Sally in Kindle available free for three more days &...

Sally in Kindle available free
for three more days       

You may “buy” the Amazon Kindle version of Sally of Monticello: Founding Motherwithout charge on any of three designated days before Christmas: December 19, 20, or 21.
 
 
Please see a feature on Norm and Sally of Monticello on http://www.thewriterslens.com/  
 
 
Sally of Monticello: Founding Mother
(complete novel available on Amazon Kindle and in paperback)
The story continues…
 
15
Early March, 1788, and Thomas’s departure for The Hague was imminent. Did I have the nerve to carry out my scheme, or would I faint at Thomas’s feet?
I’d already confided to Espagnol. His knowledge of languages and horses had led Adrien to select him for this trip. It could last a month or more.
However, I’d conspired with neither the maître d’nor Thomas’s secretary. Adrien and Mr. Short would have balked. I planned simply to tell Thomas, “I’m going with you.”
I’d read the copy of Thomas’s letter to John Adams. The carriage would arrive from the repair shop tomorrow at three. Thomas would set out Tuesday morning and meet Mr. Adams at The Hague Friday night. I believed that schedule optimistic, but I didn’t care so long as we could snuggle at the inns on the way. I’d already started packing, lightly but with clothes that would survive frequent laundering.
This was an important mission for the two envoys. Final terms of a Dutch loan were in the balance. Mr. Adams was the better negotiator, but Thomas’s presence would make a more favorable impression. And I would enjoy seeing John Adams again.
Laws and customs back home would make it impossible for me to travel with Thomas, so it was best to make my opportunity here and now.
These two revolutionaries no doubt found relief in James Madison’s monitoring ratification of the Constitution, a process now under way. Thomas said Mr. Madison had promised state leaders he would give a Bill of Rights priority in the new Congress.
Thomas’s main worry now was the turmoil rising in Paris. Even Jimmy and the staff of the Hôtel de Langeac chattered about the spreading unrest. Louis Sixteenth continued his doltish heavy-handedness. Defiant parlementairesremained under threat of arrest. Hungry out-of-work citizens demonstrated in the streets.
France’s money crisis was due in large part to its support of the American Revolution. Thomas wanted the Dutch loan to repay the French. And he hoped on his return to present the French a written plan for effective administration and relief of the distressed.
Through a doorway to the parlor I observed Thomas, seated and listening to Patsy play the harpsichord. The tuner had returned yesterday, his fourth visit since the instrument arrived. Polly was also in the parlor, reading. Gazing on this domestic scene, I wondered when I might spring my surprise on Thomas.
At last he rose, applauding Patsy’s spotty performance. He announced he would retire and see them before their return to the Abbaye in the morning. Would he hug and kiss his daughters good night? He did not. I added his reticence to the list of changes I planned for him.
I hurried to meet him in his combined study and bedchamber. When he entered, I was prickling from head to toe and blurted, “I’m going with you.”
He stopped, stared at the floor, then looked up questioningly. “Why would you want to do something so inappropriate? I’ve arranged further schooling for you while I’m gone. And M’sieu Petit will need you here.”
His response crushed me. And his use of “inappropriate” converted my act of love into a childish whim.
Thomas strolled toward his bureau, shaking his head. He turned. “Why now, Sally? Wouldn’t it be better to wait?”
I breathed deeply and found courage again. “I hate being separated from you. Like Polly I felt strange after not seeing you for three years. Then I was weeks at Père-Lachaise. And now you’ll be gone a month or more. This way I can also see Mr. Adams again without Abigail, not to mention places I’d love to visit.”
Thomas opened a bureau drawer where I’d placed lilac-scented sachets with clothing he would pack. I’d also put in extra combs, a fresh jar of shaving lather, and a bottle of eau de toilette. “Thank you, Sally, for the amenities for my journey. Very thoughtful. I’ll reciprocate with candor for yours.”
“For my what?”
“Your trip. I’ve decided you may come with me to Holland and Germany—”
I thought I might jump out of my skin. I gasped, ready to rush at him for embraces and kisses, until he added, “—if you can stand the odors.”
“Odors?”
“Yes, up close, therefore worse than anything rising in the city. Terribly disagreeable ones, owing to primitive facilities for bathing at the inns, not to mention onions and garlic in their foods that cause frequent flatulence in the carriage.”
“Oh, my.”
“Indeed. And we won’t always find facilities for relieving ourselves. We may squat by the side of the road. But Espagnol and I will be there to shield you from embarrassment.”
I hadn’t considered the rough side. I wasn’t ready for Thomas to know me that well.
“So,” he said, almost cheerfully, “run along and pack your things. But keep in mind laundering facilities will be severely limited.”
I’d had time to reflect that I may have been slightly manipulative from the day I arrived in Paris. Now he was turning it around on me. He expected to discourage me, that I’d back away from the travel plan.
I called his bluff. “I have an extra jar of shaving lather. Do you think Mr. Adams would appreciate my taking it to him as a gift?”
Thomas compressed his lips and shook his head. I knew he was about to end this playacting. I hoped he wouldn’t patronize me. I wanted us on equal footing.
“Sally, let’s stop and discuss this as adults.”
Adults.I rose to that. “You’ve described the travel conditions accurately?”
He raised his right hand as though swearing an oath. “I have.”
I groaned softly. “I should stay behind. Being with you under such circumstances could damage a relationship before it finds footing.”
“Exactly.”
I moved toward a chair near his desk and sat. “My plan wasn’t entirely self-serving. I’d hoped my presence would show support for your work. Regardless of my attitude toward Abigail, she does set an example for keeping up with her husband’s duties and standing beside him. I’ll give her that.”
“I realize you’re capable of understanding what I do, that you wish to help bear the burden of my work. It’s beyond anything I’ve known in a relationship.”
I wasn’t going to pursue that by diminishing Martha Wayles. Her frustration over Thomas’s work absences from Monticello was still sharp in my memory. I chose a cozier course to round off our evening’s conversation. “It’s nearly springtime.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“We’ve shown patience, and restraint.”
“Yes, we have,” he said, “making the feast of life that’s spread before us more appetizing.”
His words seized me like a giant but gentle hand.
“Oh, Thomas. What a lovely little speech.”
I must write Mama. Freedom in France meant freedom to love as I chose, so long as I was certain my love—my giving—would be returned by this man. Such a dear man.
What else could possibly matter?