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*Peggy*
She was aware of him the instant she woke up, feeling his warmth beside her. It should have seemed strange, but it didn’t, not at all. She had fallen asleep pressed against him, with his arm around her, and even though she had never shared a bed with anyone but Angelica or Eliza before, she didn’t feel awkward or embarrassed.
He had turned a little in his sleep, lying on his back, his arm across her pillow. She propped herself up to look at him, the crescents of his dark lashes shadowing his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, curls falling onto his forehead. Without thinking, she leaned over and kissed him softly. His eyelashes fluttered, and his arm came down to pull her closer. She put her arm around his waist and rested her head on his chest.
His grasp on her tightened. “Bonjour, ma chérie,” he murmured.
She understood that. “Good morning,” she said.
He opened his eyes all the way and smiled at her. “You are not a dream.”
“No. It’s real.”
He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss, beginning gently and then, as she responded to him, sliding his tongue between her lips. After a few seconds, he pulled back. “We should get up.” He gestured over her shoulder. Katie was standing up in her new crib, holding onto the side, watching them. “Ne t’inquiète pas, ma petite,” he said to her. “J’aime ta soeur.” He turned to Peggy to translate. “I told her not to worry and that I love you. She understands.”
“Oh, really?”
“Oui. I told her last night.”
*Gil*
He hadn’t fallen asleep right away, but that wasn’t because Peggy was in his arms. That was absolutely perfect. Part of what kept him awake was his aching need for her, knowing she wasn’t yet ready. He accepted that, and he would never do or say anything to pressure her, but that didn’t mean it was easy. The other part was the flannel pajama pants and tee shirt he had put on. He wasn’t used to wearing clothes in bed, and he didn’t like it. A small thing though, all of it negligible if it meant he could hold her like this, his face against her hair, feeling her softness against him. He could be patient. He kissed her hair and closed his eyes and finally fell asleep thinking, mine.
She woke him with a kiss, like in a fairy tale, and when he pulled her close, she put her head on his chest as if they had been sleeping together for years. Mine.
*Peggy*
John had brought over an ID and a driver’s license in the name of Adrienne de Noailles. Peggy couldn’t see any difference between the IDs that John made and the ones issued by the government.
“Told you I was good,” John said. “French passports are tricky, though, so I’ll need a few more days. These should be enough for now.”
“So I’m okay to shop? Gil wants to go shopping.” She looked at John uncertainly, but he just grinned.
“Of course he does.”
She needed socks and underwear, and a pair of shoes that fit properly, and maybe another pair of jeans and a tee shirt. She’d need a winter jacket soon too; it was too cold already for just hoodies or sweaters. Katie really needed clothes. All she had was three sleepers. Peggy didn’t have any money of her own. Mrs. Miller had given her fifty dollars, but she’d had to spend it on the baby carrier for Katie and their bus fare. She was sure that Gil intended to pay for things, but she wanted to talk about it first.
*Gil*
“John did a good job with your IDs, but he always does. Now, where do we go first?” He was excited to take her out, even to go shopping. Everyone would be able to see how beautiful his girl was.
“Before we go, I need to tell you that I don’t have much money.”
What was she thinking? “Chérie, I understand that. I have money. I can buy whatever you need.”
She looked up at him, her brown eyes serious. “You’re okay with that being a long-term situation? I don’t know when I’ll see my parents again, and the Greaters probably already took over our house.” Her voice was shaky.
He knew that the likelihood of seeing her parents soon – or ever – was small. Accused seditionists could be held indefinitely. He didn’t say anything about that, though, and he took both her hands in his. “First, mon cher petit mouton, I am okay with this being a permanent situation. I have enough money. Let’s go shopping so I can buy you things.”
He wanted to buy her diamonds and pearls and ball gowns and her own car. He wanted to outfit Katie in beautiful hand-smocked dresses and silk hair ribbons and give her every toy she looked at. Not yet, he reminded himself. When it’s over, when we’re all safe, I will give my girls everything they could possibly want.
Peggy stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I think we should go to Target,” she said. She couldn’t understand why that made him laugh, but when he picked her up and spun her around, she laughed too.
*Peggy*
It was a well-known family joke that none of the Schuyler girls knew how to cook. Peggy could manage scrambled eggs and grilled cheese sandwiches and could bake cookies, but that was the extent of her culinary ability. She felt as though she should be preparing nice meals since she was in the apartment all day and Gil was going to class. When she said that, he laughed.
“Do you think I want you to be my cook or housekeeper?” he asked her, his eyebrow up.
“Well, I have more free time,” she told him.
“Please, it takes us an hour to clean the whole apartment because it is small, and it’s so easy to order a meal or get something fresh at the deli. Please don’t think you need to …” He waved his hand, frustrated.
“Earn my keep?” she suggested, and the smile left his face.
He took both her hands in his. “Peggy, chérie, this is not … I don’t … ah, merde.” He broke off and took a breath, searching for the words in English. “You and I, we are not together for a financial arrangement. You do not work for me in exchange for room and board.”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” she said hastily, her eyes wide. “I just … I want to help, you know.”
His face softened, and he pulled her in for a hug. “From what I know of your sisters’ skills, your cooking would not be much help.”
Peggy had to laugh at that, her face against his shoulder. “I think you’re right. Can you cook, by the way?”
“Not even as well as you.”
She pulled back and looked up at him. “We may starve, then.”
“Not tonight, though, because we will order pizza.”
When the weather was nice, she took Katie to the park and talked to other young women there, introducing herself as Adrienne and referring to Katie as her daughter. Nobody questioned the story she told, that she and Gil had been in love in France nearly two years ago, that she hadn’t realized she was pregnant until after they had broken up angrily right before he returned to New York. She had decided to raise the baby herself, she said, and it wasn’t until a couple of months ago that her brother had called Gil and told him about his daughter. A series of phone calls between New York and France had purportedly ensued, and they realized they still loved one another. “Adrienne” packed up her baby and her belongings and came to New York to be reunited with her true love. Gil had composed the story himself, and Peggy always told it with great dramatic flair. Gil had, in fact, once had a girlfriend named Adrienne, but the rest of it was pure invention. Several of the people she told it to sighed over how romantic it was. No one knew that the real story was every bit as romantic, but a lot less believable.
*Gil*
He went to class every day, just as he had before, but now when he came back to the apartment, Peggy and Katie were there. Now he was coming home, not just back to the place where he slept, but to his girls. Peggy would always have a story to tell him about something Katie had done, and Katie’s face would light up when she saw him. He taught her the French children’s song “Ainsi Font, Font, Font.” She couldn’t sing it, of course, but she could do the hand motions that went with it, and as soon as he started singing, she would twirl her hands.
“You see how intelligent she is,” he said to Peggy. “Look how quickly she learns.”
“Maybe she can even learn a song in English,” Peggy suggested.
“You will have to teach her that. Remember, I was not an English-speaking child.”
“Then I can teach you and her at the same time.”
Gil was less than enthusiastic about that idea, but he agreed that it was fair, and he did his best to learn “Patty-Cake” along with Katie. Peggy found, though, that Katie wasn’t interested, and she continued to prefer “Ainsi Font,” much to Gil’s delight.
When Katie was asleep, they would talk. There was so much to learn about one another. One night Peggy was lying on the couch, her head in his lap, and she asked, “Have you always wanted a big family?”
He wound one of her curls around his finger before he answered. “I think so. I wanted a brother or sister so badly when I was a child. I was lonely.”
“Poor little boy,” Peggy said softly, putting her hand on his cheek. “I love my sisters so much. I can’t imagine being without them. I think it would be fun to have a houseful of kids.”
“Five or six, maybe?”
She thought about it. “Three boys and three girls?”
He smiled down at her. “They would never be lonely.”
“And you’re going to be a doctor, so we would be able to afford that many, right?”
“Yes, of course. I have some family money, also.”
She turned and pulled herself up to sit on his lap and put her arms around his neck. “I like to think about it,” she said.
He slid his hand into her curls and kissed her, imagining a lifetime with this amazing girl who was everything he had ever wanted. He looked ahead to a future of babies and school concerts and family vacations at the beach. Comme c'est étonnant de rêver du foyer au lieu des flingues, he told himself. A short time ago, if anyone had asked him what he was proudest of, he would have said his marksmanship or, if he were being completely frank, his kill rate. Now the simple answer would be that Peggy loved him. He could still shoot. Love hadn’t changed that. It was just that now, the shooting had a purpose apart from the satisfaction he felt when he fired the gun and hit what he was aiming at. The purpose was what it had always been, to bring about free elections and a just government. That was no longer an abstract goal; accomplishing it would mean that he could have the life that he wanted for himself and the girl he loved.
*Peggy*
Now that she had said she was ready, her heart was hammering, and she felt shaky. Not scared, but nervous and … excited. Eager.
Gil was very gentle and very patient. He had helped her undress and had begun to fondle her breasts, stroking them and then taking her nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it just a little, and Peggy felt the sensation shoot through her like electricity. He played with her breasts, licking and sucking, and then he said, “Tell me how it feels.”
All she could manage to say was, “I want you to keep doing it.”
He did, and without really being aware of it, she began to arch toward him, wanting more.
“Where do you feel it?” he whispered, and she put her hand between her legs. All the electricity seemed to be gathering there.
Gil’s hand followed hers, and he began to rub her clit, gently at first, but then a little harder and faster. She wanted more, but she didn’t know what to ask for, didn’t recognize the longing she felt. He slipped a finger inside her and pressed up, and the electrical sensations rippled through her. She pushed against his hand, wanting more pressure than his finger could give her. He knelt over her, and when he asked if she was ready for him, she said yes with no reservations. He slid just the tip of his cock in, and she gasped. He pulled back a little, rubbed against her clit, giving her time. She was breathing hard, waiting, aching to be satisfied, but not sure what it was she wanted. He began to push in, very slowly. She expected it to be painful, but it was more a sensation of pressure, of being stretched to fit him. He pushed harder and there was a moment of anxiety, but he gave her time to relax, kissing her mouth and her throat before he went farther. He pushed in again, and the anxiety dissipated as the pressure and stretching increased, the sensation of fullness astonishing her because it felt so good. Involuntarily, she spread her legs apart, her body reacting on its own. Then he was all the way in, filling her, his body tight against hers. Having him inside her was incredible, amazing in ways that she couldn’t describe. His cock felt huge, big enough and hard enough to split her in half, and nothing had ever felt better. He began to move, his thumb on her clit, and all the sensation that she had been feeling began to center on that one spot. She had touched herself, but it had never been like this, and she lifted her hips toward him as he thrust into her, increasing that pressure inside her that aroused in her an unfamiliar, exciting expectancy. An ecstatic quivering began to spread through her and she felt herself tightening around him, trying to hold him in as he moved faster. Then the ripples became waves that lifted her in spasm after spasm, as she wrapped her legs around his waist to hold on. As she came down, she felt his arms around her, felt his lips on her throat and her face, and she realized she was crying and shaking.
*Gil*
After two patient weeks of kissing her, touching her very carefully, aching with want, he had come home to find Katie’s crib moved into the alcove, and Peggy ready for him, but nervous. He wanted so much to take away all her anxiety, but all he could do was go slowly and be gentle with her. It took every ounce of self-control that he had to hear her whimper when he sucked her nipples and not to rush, to feel her writhe under him as he touched her and still hold back. Finally, when he felt her start to come, he let go, the waiting over, his patience rewarded. He held her, his arms tight around her as the spasms subsided, kissing her and finding her face wet with tears. “Peggy, chérie,” he whispered, “have I hurt you?”
She was trembling, and she clung to him, but she shook her head. “No, no, it was …” her voice caught on a sob. “Oh, God, Gil, I didn’t … it was amazing. I don’t know why I’m crying …”
He kissed the tears off her face and her eyelids, murmuring to her in French because he couldn’t manage English at the moment. “Ma belle, ma chérie, mon coeur, je t’aime, je t’aime. C’est toi la plus belle, la plus douce, je t’aime, et tu es à moi, à moi seul pour toujours.”
He felt more than heard her tiny giggle. “I really need to learn more French …”
“I am telling you how much I love you,” he told her, kissing her between words. “You are beautiful and sweet and amazing, and I will love you forever.”
“I love you too. It sounds prettier in French, I think,” she said, a little sleepily. “I’ll learn it.”
“Of course you will. There is no hurry.”
She snuggled closer to him. “I understand now why sex is such a big deal.”
“Ah, bon?”
She didn’t know the expression, but she recognized the tone. “Mm-hm. But I don’t think it’s always quite like that.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Girls talk, you know? Some of the things I heard made me a little anxious.”
“Maybe those things came from high school girls who were having sex with high school boys?”
“That’s true.” She was quiet for a few minutes, relaxed and warm against him. “Gil?”
“Oui, ma chérie?”
“Gil, I really, really liked it.”
He laughed out loud, his heart overflowing. “Chérie, there is nothing you could say that would make me happier.”
*Peggy*
Their first time had gone well, better certainly than she had anticipated, even though she had been so nervous that she couldn’t think clearly. Gil had been his usual calm self, incredibly gentle, incredibly patient. Gil was so much more than she had ever imagined a lover could be, as if someone had magically combined every fairy-tale prince and romantic book hero into one actual live human being. Here he was, hers, and madly in love with her. She knew he wasn’t perfect – she wasn’t an idiot – but he was exactly right for her, and she had known that when she met him. Five years older than she was and light years more experienced, he never made her feel childish or clumsy.
A few days after the first time, and so after the second and third and fourth time, he had told her that he hadn’t worn clothes to bed before she moved in with him, and he was not going to wear them anymore. She had on her usual tee shirt and underpants that night when he came to bed naked. She was still getting used to just seeing him naked – okay, he was the only guy she’d ever seen without his clothes on, and there was a lot to take in. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, nuzzling her neck, and she reached up to play with his hair.
“Do you think I could persuade you, chérie, to take off your clothes?” he asked.
She’d never slept naked, but she’d spent the last few weeks doing things she’d never even thought of in her life, so she let him help her remove the tee shirt, and she kicked off her underpants, and then she was lying in his embrace, her back to his front, skin to skin, in a kind of intimacy that was another unknown experience. It was amazing to feel him, feel his warmth, the texture of his skin.
“I want to touch you,” he whispered, and she shivered. One of the things she loved most about Gil was that he never assumed. He talked to her, asked her what she liked, made sure everything he did was okay with her. He made it all easy.
“Please touch me,” she told him, and he did, his hands sliding over her shoulders and down her arms, then back, gently touching her collarbones, her breasts, her belly, her hips, not stopping, just stroking. It was wonderful. She leaned back into him, sighing, and he kept caressing her, more slowly now, his fingers lingering a little longer on her breasts, reaching to stroke her inner thighs.
“Oh, God, Gil,” she sighed, and he gave a satisfied hum.
“Ça te plait? You like it?”
“I like it very much. J’aime beaucoup.” She only knew a few phrases in French, but he liked to hear her use them.
He chuckled, his hand sliding over her belly and playing lightly with her navel. “Tu fais du progrès en français.”
She had no idea what that meant, except for the last word, but it sounded positive, so she didn’t ask. His hands were still moving on her and she felt warm and yielding, and now when they moved over her thighs, she found herself opening her legs, almost unconsciously, but his hands found their way there, and she caught her breath.
“Okay?” he murmured against her ear.
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
Her back was still pressed tightly to him, and she felt him hard against her. She liked knowing that he reacted to her that way. She wanted to touch him, but she didn’t know how. She moved a bit to rub against him and he caught his breath sharply.
“Is that okay?” she asked, afraid she’d done something wrong.
“Oh, chérie, that is good.”
She did it again and he responded by kissing his way softly down her neck and then moving her just a little so that he could reach her mouth with his. She loved the way Gil kissed, his mouth soft, as if he were tasting her, his tongue moving gently between her parted lips, exploring her. Without really thinking about it, she reached down and began to stroke him, and he gasped.
“I don’t know …” she stammered
“Don’t know what?”
“How.”
He put his hand on hers and guided her, and she was rewarded by hearing his breathing quicken.
“Gil …”
“Mm?”
“I want it to be good for you.”
“Mon cher petit mouton, tu n’as aucune idée …”
“Do you want to wait while I look that up?”
He laughed and pulled her closer. “That, chérie. You have no idea yet what you do to me, but that is what I mean. You are real, and you are mine, and my whole world is different now.”
She understood. A few weeks ago, she had been a high school student, whose understanding of love, when she thought of it at all, was vaguely related to movies or books, or maybe even her parents, but apart from a few teenage crushes, it was outside of her experience. She knew that both of her sisters had had fairly serious boyfriends by the time they were her age, but it just hadn’t happened for her.
Then she saw Gil, and within an hour, she had made a lifetime commitment. Everybody said they were crazy, but nobody else would ever understand what she and Gil knew from the start, that it was real and right, and that it didn’t matter how long they had known each other because they had always known each other.
If she didn’t believe in love at first sight at seventeen, Gil, at twenty-two, cosmopolitan and skeptical of everything, was the last person likely to be struck by it, and yet within that first hour, he had been on his knees in front of her, promising that he would cherish her forever. They had both accepted it without understanding it because whatever had happened was so strong that it couldn’t be denied.
A month into it now, what had seemed an overwhelming force had only become stronger. Gil still had to go to classes, of course, and they had Katie to look after, but every moment they weren’t together felt strangely wrong. The minute Gil came through the door at the end of the day, Peggy was in his arms, sometimes with Katie between them giggling at the three-way hug. Touching Gil was like drinking water when she was thirsty and just as necessary. She had nothing to compare it to, but she had heard enough talk about relationships that she knew not everyone experienced this. It didn’t matter. This was theirs, and Gil was hers.
She turned in his arms to face him and slid her hand into his hair, twisting her fingers in his curls. He was without a doubt the best-looking man she had ever seen, and she got to spend every night with him.
*Gil*
When he held her, he couldn’t imagine ever letting her go. Her skin was like warm, living silk under his hands. His eyes closed, he ran his fingers over her throat, her collarbone, her shoulders, letting the tactile sensation claim all his attention. His hand skimmed the soft roundness of her breast and he felt her quick intake of breath
Peggy was inexperienced, but not awkward, and not at all embarrassed. She trusted him as wholly as he trusted her, and she responded to him with a depth of passion that he had never known before – and he had long ago lost count of how many girls he’d taken to bed over the years. Maybe it was true that being in love made all the difference, but he was skeptical of that simplistic idea. It was Peggy herself who had changed everything for him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. She held nothing back, and for the first time, neither did he. With her, he let down a guard that he hadn’t even known he’d held in place for ten years. Having her under him, in his hands, watching her as they made love, feeling her body react to him was the most powerful experience of his life.
It had become his goal to show her everything he knew of physical pleasure. That first night, he had cursed himself when she cried, until he realized it wasn’t from pain or fear, but the unexpected intensity of her own response. He took things slowly and gently, but she was as passionate as he was, and she wanted everything he could give her.
His hand came back to her breast, cupping it, feeling its soft weight. He brushed the nipple with the pad of his thumb and felt the quick frisson that went through her. Again then, and then his left hand on her left breast, and she pressed into him, her back against his front, turning aside a little to rest her head on his shoulder and bare her throat to him. He kissed it, feeling the pulse against his lips, then traced her jawline with his tongue, so that she made the soft whimpering noise that he loved so much.
She rubbed her ass against him. God. He slid his hands down to her hips and moved her back and forth, and then she had her hand on him. “Show me,” she whispered, and he guided her. She rolled off him and turned so that they were face to face, as she continued to stroke him.
“Chérie,” he murmured, and she brought her mouth to his, melting into him. He sucked her bottom lip, and she made a noise, half-surprise, half-pleasure, that went right to his groin. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, her pupils so wide that he couldn’t even distinguish the dark brown iris. She didn’t look away, but he saw her reach to the nightstand, and he smiled as he realized she was getting the condom. He rolled it on, and then she surprised him by straddling him.
“Okay?” she asked.
“Yes, of course. Anything you want is okay, always.”
“I want to try this.” She got up on her knees and began to slowly lower herself onto him. It was the first time she had taken the lead, and he threw his head back and just let himself feel her, warm and wet and silky smooth, and God, so tight around him. She took him all in and then leaned forward a bit to put her weight on her hands. That changed the angle and she gasped as she felt the pressure against her nerve center. He put his hand on her and pressed hard from the outside, compressing the nerves between his hand and his cock. She started to move up and down, and he kept his hand in place until she was moaning as she slid back and forth on him. He moved just his thumb to get to her clit, and her moan caught raggedly. He thrust up into her as she moved, and she gulped a deep breath and began to quiver around him. Then stronger spasms pulsated against him, and he grabbed her hips to hold her in place as he came.
A little while later, she lay quietly, her head on his chest. “Alors, qu’est-ce que tu en penses?” he asked, stroking her hair. “What do you think?”
She rubbed her cheek against him. “I liked it. I don’t have to decide which way I like it best, do I?”
“Oh, no. And anyway, we’re just at the beginning. There are lots of other things to explore.”
“Mm.” She was silent for a while, then, “Gil?”
“Oui, chérie?”
“I love you so much.”
How had he managed so long without her? “I love you too, ma belle.” His arms tightened around her. He had never felt more content.
*Peggy*
It was ten o’clock at night, and she knew the minute she saw Alex’s face that something awful had happened. Her mind went first to Angelica and Eliza, hiding out somewhere with somebody called TJ. Alex grabbed her hands, and she could feel Gil close behind her.
“Peggy, I’m so, so sorry. I just got a call from TJ. Both of your parents were killed trying to escape.”
Both. Both. Her knees gave way, and Gil caught her and picked her up, carried her to a chair, sat holding her as she sobbed. She hadn’t even seen John behind Alex, but the two of them were in the apartment. John made tea, and Alex kept saying he was sorry.
Both. Katie would never even know them.
She reached for Alex’s arm as he stood there. “I want my sisters. I want to see Angelica and Eliza.”
Alex knelt down next to the chair. “Peggy, I can’t … I can’t take you there, and I can’t bring them here. It wouldn’t be safe for any of you.” Alex was crying too. She looked across the room for John, and when he saw her face, he came and put his arms around her.
“They were the best, Peggy,” he said. “They were the best Mom and Dad I ever met, and I was so lucky to know them.”
“They loved you,” she whispered, wiping the tears off his face.
Gil was saying something in rapid French to Alex over her head. She put her face against his shoulder and didn’t even bother trying to understand what they were saying. John brought her tea that she didn’t want, but she drank some of it because it seemed to matter to him.
After a while, Alex and John left, and Gil picked her up and carried her to bed, holding her close to him. He pulled the blankets up and tucked them around her. “Ma pauvre chérie,” he whispered. “Your heart must be breaking.”
“I wanted them to know you,” she sobbed. “I wanted Dad to walk me down the aisle.”
*Gil*
The pounding on the door had roused him, made him wary, even as the thought I hope that doesn’t wake Katie up floated through his head. Before they crossed the living room to the door, he heard Alex calling his name, but it was Peggy who got there first. He stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, knowing that nothing good would bring Alex here at this hour.
He caught Peggy as she fell, wailing, and picked her up. Katie woke up crying, and John went to tend to her, got her calmed down and back to sleep, while Peggy wept great wrenching sobs that left her gasping for breath. Alex hovered, saying over and over that he was sorry, as if he felt responsible. He probably did; that was Alex. Alex and John had known Peggy’s parents, and now he himself never would. He would never go to them and tell them that he loved their daughter and wanted to marry her. His children would have no grandparents to tell them stories and teach them how to bake cookies or build birdhouses or whatever grandparents did. Anger bubbled up in him white-hot, even as his heart broke for Peggy, for Angelica and Eliza, and for Katie, who would have no memories of her parents to comfort her.
He looked up at Alex. “C’est certain?”
“Oui, absolument.”
“Où ça?”
Alex hesitated. He knew what Gil was thinking. “Pas loin d’ici.”
“Tu sais qui?”
“Non, impossible à savoir. Il y a des dizaines d’agents …”
Gil nodded. “Pas maintenant, mais …”
Alex stared at him, troubled, the shadows under his eyes already dark as bruises. He put his hand on Gil’s arm. “Mon frère …”
“Ne t’en fais pas,” Gil told him gently. “Tout ça ne te regarde pas.”
Alex ran his hand over his face and pushed back his hair. Of course Gil would say that, but if it didn’t concern him, it would concern somebody else, and that would almost certainly be John. He knew that trying to persuade Gil to change his mind once it was made up was like trying to dislodge the Rock of Gibraltar, but there was at least a possibility that he could talk some sense into John.
John was in the kitchen pouring cups of tea, and he brought one to Peggy.
“I don’t want any,” Peggy told him, shaking her head.
“Just a little bit,” John coaxed, holding the cup for her. “It’s got sugar in it.”
She took a tiny sip, and John brushed her hair back. “That’s it,” he told her, as if she were Katie’s age. “A little bit more.”
He got her to drink about half a cup that way, while Gil kept his arms around her and watched John, his eyes filled with tenderness. John still had a father somewhere, but he hated him, and Alex didn’t know if he had a father or not, so all of them were essentially orphans. Well, then, they would manage. If his and Peggy’s children had no grandparents, they would have aunts and uncles who adored them, and one couldn’t ask for better family than Alex Hamilton and John Laurens.
*Peggy*
She needed him now more than ever, and he stayed with her, skipping a week of classes with a forged medical report about a bad bout of the flu. Alex left them only to go home for clean clothes, and John and Herc came whenever they could. John arrived one morning with bags of groceries and spent the day making five kinds of soup, putting it all in neatly labeled containers and filling the freezer so they wouldn’t have to worry about meals for a few weeks. He couldn’t persuade Peggy to eat on her own, so he fed her chicken-rice soup spoonful by spoonful, talking to her softly the whole time.
Alex took Katie to the park and pushed her on the baby swings and sat on the living room floor singing “Ainsi Font” over and over. Herc built her countless block towers that she knocked down, falling into fits of giggles at Herc’s outraged face every time. While Herc and John played with Katie, Alex kept trying to get a secure phone line to TJ so Peggy could talk to her sisters. It took days, but he finally did, and handed Peggy the phone.
She heard Angelica’s voice and broke down in sobs. All she managed to choke out was “I love you so much. I wish I could see you.” Angelica and Eliza wept with her as they handed the phone back and forth. It didn’t help.
*Gil*
She clung to Gil, physically as well as emotionally, finding whatever comfort she could in his closeness. Two nights after Alex had brought the terrible news, she found herself overwhelmed with such physical need that she was frightened and ashamed as she wrapped her legs around Gil, kissing him passionately, her hands tangled in his hair, crying even as she pressed herself against him. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, and he put his hands on her shoulders.
“Sh,” he told her. “There is nothing to be sorry about. Ah, chérie, you are suffering, and so you need love. You have lost those you love, and now you seek love in the most natural way. Never be sorry.” He slid his hand between her legs and opened her with his fingers. She whimpered, and he kissed her, his tongue in her mouth as his fingers circled and stretched her. Her hips bucked up, and he knew she was about to lose control. He pulled her under him and pushed into her, not slowly this time, because he understood how desperately she needed the release he could give her. His forefinger flicked her clit as he kissed her again and again, murmuring against her lips. “Je t’aime, je t’aime, ma belle, ma chérie, mon coeur, I love you so much.”
Her breath caught on a gasp and she arched up, wailing, as he worked her through it. This was all he could do for her, the only comfort he could give her. He couldn’t bring her parents back, he couldn’t mend her broken heart, but by God, he could finger her and fuck her until he made the stars explode for her.
*Peggy*
When she thought about it later, she realized that in some way she had known that she was unlikely to see her parents again after the night she ran into the woods with Katie in her arms. There was some comfort in remembering that they knew she got Katie out. “What mattered to them, in that moment,” Veronica Mulligan told her, “was that they knew their girls were safe.” For the rest of her life, every fall, she thought of that and was grateful.
Katie was a year old now, walking a few steps and trying to say words. Peggy and Gil were effectively Katie’s parents, and always would be, but she couldn’t encourage Katie to call them Mom and Dad or Maman and Papa. Gil finally suggested Tatie and Tonton, children’s nicknames in French for aunt and uncle, and that seemed to be a good compromise, although, as Alex had pointed out, it would probably confuse the hell out of Katie later.
“Never mind,” Gil said. “Katie’s going to grow up in an unorthodox family, so she’ll figure it out.”
Alex had gone to wherever Angelica and Eliza were hiding out, because the person named TJ had to move to a different hiding place. They weren’t allowed to know where anybody was because of a policy called need to know. She understood it, but she still hated it. Sometimes Alex got a call through and she could talk to Angelica or Eliza for a few minutes, and of course they saw John and Herc a lot, but things were different without Alex.
Early in December, Gil had to go to some sort of seminar in Boston. It would be the first time they would spend a night apart since the day they had met.
Despite her best intentions, Peggy found herself getting tearful at the idea.
“It won’t happen often, chérie,” Gil told her early Thursday morning, “And I will be back tomorrow afternoon.”
“I know,” she nodded, forcing a smile. “I’m being silly. After all, if you’re going to be a surgeon, you’ll have to do emergency operations at all hours, so I should get used to it.”
“Why don’t you invite someone over?” he suggested. “Maybe one of your friends from the park?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Mm, no, not them. They’re all pretentious Haves that I only talk to so I can establish my identity. I’ll call Herc’s sister.”
Gil smiled. “Venus? That’s a good idea. You can do …” He waved his hand vaguely. “Girl things?”
That made her laugh. “It is so obvious that you never had sisters. Let’s see, we’ll gossip about boys and paint our nails, right? Oh, and eat chocolate?”
He hesitated, not quite sure what the right answer was, and Peggy laughed again. “Je plaisante, chéri,” she told him, using a phrase she had recently learned. “I’m kidding. We’ll probably order pizza, and Venus will try to convince me that math is the coolest thing in the world.”
Venus Mulligan was a math genius, already looking at college programs at Stanford and MIT. While Peggy didn’t share her enthusiasm, she always enjoyed her company.
Of course, neither Peggy nor Venus had a phone license, so Gil and Herc transmitted the messages, and Venus came over right after school.
“I can’t sleep over,” she said. “Mom has to get to work early, and Herc has an eight o’clock class, so I’ve got to make sure the kids get off to school on time. Mom’s working extra hours as much as she can before Christmas.”
Peggy nodded, well aware that the Mulligans’ economic status was precarious. Gil had been trying to find a way to help them without offending Veronica’s pride or pissing Herc off, but he hadn’t figured it out yet. “Okay, but that means you’ll have to take the coffeecake I got for breakfast home with you because I can’t eat the whole thing.”
“Deal,” Venus agreed.
*Gil*
John had hacked into the computers at the detention center and knew when the perimeter guards would change. “They’re idiots, you know,” he said to Gil. “At this time of year, they have three shift changes in the dark. If they weren’t so tied to military time, they could cut it to two.”
“Let’s be thankful,” Gil responded. “We’re set for midnight. There won’t be much traffic, but some I think.”
The detention center was a converted factory in an industrial area of Elizabeth, New Jersey. It was impossible to secure it effectively, located as it was near other large buildings. They knew the area well since they had been part of an attack there six months earlier. The Greaters had repaired the damage from that attack, but hadn’t upgraded their security. More evidence of their stupidity, Gil thought with contempt.
John nodded. “Enough to make the streets impassable.” There were plenty of tire spikes in the trunk of the Acura.
They’d had a casual meal at a diner a few hours ago and had then given the neighborhood one final review. They’d done two practice runs in the past couple of weeks, checked out the heights and angles of the nearby rooftops, and watched the guards change at noon and four o’clock. They were reasonably sure that the procedures would be the same at midnight. The guards had handguns and AKs, good enough weapons, but no match for high-precision rifles with telescopic sights and night-vision capability.
They only had to take out two guards to even the score for the deaths of Philip and Catherine Schuyler, but Gil thought they could do better than that.
“God, that place still looks like something out of a fucking horror movie,” John muttered as they drove past the detention center, a huge, ugly cinderblock structure surrounded by concrete and a twenty-foot fence topped with razor wire. “Every time I think of Philip and Catherine dying in there, I get sick. I wish we could blow the whole building up.”
“We can’t.” Gil told him, “at least not now, when there are still innocent people imprisoned in it. Someday, though, I’d like to be the one who lights the fuse.” Gil had the look in his eyes that John knew well, something between ice and steel, a cold fury that even he found unsettling. He’d seen Gil shoot, and he’d seen him fight, and he was deeply thankful they were on the same side. Gil had decided on this plan to avenge Peggy’s parents the night Alex had brought the news of their deaths. Alex wasn’t in favor of it, thought it was too risky, told him it was unnecessary. Gil had listened, nodded politely, and then gone to John. With Alex off now running sabotage missions for the General, the plan was being put into action. Only Herc knew about it. As Gil reminded them, Peggy didn’t need to know.
“I miss Danny,” Gil said now, taking John by surprise. They didn’t talk about Danny much precisely because they missed him, but he was on their minds now because the previous attack had been to break him out of the same prison. “We could have triangulated the fire,” Gil continued with a crooked smile.
“Yeah,” John nodded, biting his lip. “Almost as good a marksman as you and me.”
“Better than you, I think,” Gil said thoughtfully.
“Fuck you,” John told him, laughing. He pulled the Acura into a small parking lot of a vacant building. It was dark enough that they wouldn’t be seen in the car, and maybe they could get an hour’s sleep.
At ten, Gil’s phone alarm woke them, and they set out, getting the duffle bags from the trunk and carrying them the couple of blocks’ distance. There was – stupidly, again – only one street that had access to the detention center. They scattered the tire spikes on it, tossing a few onto the sidewalks just in case. Then they separated, Gil to the building across the street from the detention center, John to the one behind it. It would be a fast operation. They would meet back at the car at twelve-thirty, be across the Goethals Bridge and on Staten Island by one o’clock, and back in John’s apartment by two-thirty or three. Not the most direct route, but that was part of the plan. They would still have a few hours to catch up on their sleep, so John could go to class later in the day, and Gil could return from his “seminar” on time.
Gil threw the grappling hook up and pulled the fire escape ladder down, then made his way to the roof as quietly as he could. The building was empty at this hour, but there was no point in taking unnecessary risks. He set up his tripod, and waited for midnight.
“How many?” he asked at twelve-forty, as John eased the car into the entry lane for two seventy-eight.
“At least four,” John told him with satisfaction. “You?”
“Six certainly, maybe one or two more.”
“Damn.”
“They killed my children’s grandparents,” Gil said.
*Peggy*
Don’t be silly, she told herself. You’re fine. It’s not like you’ve never spent a night alone.
Wait, maybe she hadn’t. She tried to think of a time when her parents had left her home alone overnight, and she couldn’t. If they’d gone out for an evening, they’d come home early enough to be there in the morning when she woke up. They’d taken some brief vacations when she and her sisters were little, but their old neighbor Mrs. Henderson had always come to stay with them. As she looked back, she realized that the terrifying night in the woods less than two months ago was the only time she’d been alone overnight – well, alone except for Katie. Peggy got out of bed to look at Katie sleeping peacefully in her crib. Katie wasn’t scared or anxious. She knew that the people who loved her would take care of her and keep her safe.
I know that too. Gil will keep us safe. He promised. She went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of cocoa and sipped it slowly, thinking of Gil and everything that had happened over the past weeks. The last time she had seen Angelica and Eliza, she had struggled to explain to them how she knew she loved Gil after just a few hours. She couldn’t find a way to put it into words, and if her sisters were standing there right now, she still couldn’t have expressed herself any more clearly, but each passing day had only confirmed what she had known then. She loved Gil in a way that she had never loved anyone, and she knew without any doubt that he loved her the same way. It didn’t have to make sense to anyone else.
She smiled and drank some more cocoa. I’m not scared, she realized. I just miss him. I don’t want to sleep without him, ever. She thought about how it felt when he wrapped his arms around her at night and pulled her close, one hand twisted in her hair and the other wherever he wanted to touch her. Well, that’s not making it any easier. Oh, Gil, come home soon. I can’t wait to show you how much I’ve missed you.
He came in the door at around three o’clock in the afternoon, earlier than he had expected to be home, and she threw herself into his arms.
*Gil*
He had told Peggy that he’d be home at around four, but by two o’clock, sitting alone in John’s apartment, his longing for her was overwhelming. How was it that he could hold a strategic position for hours with no problem, but one night away from her had him feeling as if he had lost part of himself? Was he going to be useless on missions now because he missed his girlfriend? He didn’t want to think about what Alex would have to say about that.
Even as he thought it, though, he knew that wasn’t the case. He and John had accomplished their mission last night with no difficulty. He had remained focused throughout it; it was only afterward, staying away from Peggy to fit his cover story, that he had become impatient. I’ll need a better cover story next time.
He checked the Boston weather on his phone so that he could talk about it as though he’d been there, and he saw that snow was expected overnight. That was helpful. The seminar might close an hour or two early to enable out-of-town participants to get on the roads before the snow hit. He went straight home.
She had missed him as much as he had missed her. He felt like he could breathe again with her in his arms, felt as if his heartbeat had returned to normal. She had her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and he had barely enough presence of mind to ask, “Katie?”
“Asleep,” Peggy said against his mouth. “Just went down for her nap. She’ll sleep for at least an hour.”
By the time they got to the bed, he had Peggy’s top and bra off, and she was unbuckling his belt. He bent over her while he pulled off his pants, kissing her and licking her nipples, as she squirmed to get rid of her jeans. Then he was stretched out next to her, pulling her to him, kissing her throat and telling her, “Tu m’as tant manqué, chérie, I missed you so much.” She was warm and soft, and he slid his hand over her breast, along the curve of her waist and the roundness of her hip and when he cupped her ass, she gasped and spread her legs, bending her knees to make it easier for him. He took a moment to look down at her, her lips parted, her eyes unfocused, wanting him the way he wanted her. God, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He opened her with his thumb, and she was soaked, dripping, as slick and warm as melted wax. He slid all the way in with one long, hard thrust, and she moaned, arching up and tightening around him. He wouldn’t last long like this, but neither would she, and he didn’t hold back. Peggy got her legs around him again, and with every stroke into her, she let out a whimper that he loved to hear. She reached between them and got her hand on her clit, rubbing back and forth. Within seconds she had figured out that she could rub the base of his cock at the same time, and he drove faster, harder, deeper inside of her, as she pulsated and shuddered around him, and then everything whited out.
He heard Peggy wailing his name as she clung to him tightly, and then he had his mouth on hers again, sucking her lip, scraping his teeth across it the way he knew she liked. Both of them were gasping and sweating, and she slid her hands into his hair and held on to him. “Oh, God, Gil,” she whispered when she could finally get her breath, “how is it always so amazingly good, and then it gets better? How could it ever be better than that just was?”
*Peggy*
At the end of the semester, the new regulations were announced. There would no longer be exceptions to the exclusion of foreign students. With only one semester to complete in order to graduate, Gil was dismissed from the university.
He spent the first twenty-four hours raging around the apartment, swearing creatively in both French and English.
“Do you … maybe you could finish pre-med in France?” Peggy suggested cautiously.
“Fuck France,” Gil spat.
“Okay.” She gave him time to pace some more until he ran out of words or energy and sat down next to her.
“I will not go back to France. I will stay in this country and fight to save it until we have free elections and a constitutional government again, or I will die trying.”
That sent cold chills through her, but she nodded and held onto his hand. “What are you thinking about doing?” she asked.
“I think we should join Alex and help him.”
She had always expected that, and while the thought of it was more than a little scary, the prospect of being reunited with her sisters filled her with joy.
“When do we start?” she asked.
He pulled her onto his lap and held her. “No questions, petit mouton?”
“Not yet. I’m not surprised, really. I know there’s still a lot to do.”
*Gil*
Making contact with Alex was never easy. There was a number to call, but he could only leave a message, and then eventually Alex would call him back, sometimes right away, but usually hours or even a day later.
This time, while he was waiting for the return call, Herc called. He had refused to accede to the university’s demand to change his major from textile design to something considered more masculine, so the university had expelled him for “immorality.” It was a catch-all word being used to dismiss students who were openly gay, as well as those who supported any political agenda other than unquestioning support for President King.
“I need to get in touch with Alex,” Herc said.
“Planning on joining him?” Gil asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good. You can get a ride with us.”
An hour later, Alex called, and gave Gil his location.
*Peggy*
It wasn’t like there was that much to pack. Alex had said to bring no furniture except Katie’s crib, which fortunately could be taken apart and put in the car. Other than that, he said they would need only their clothes and household linens. Oh, and blankets. Alex said they should bring blankets.
She thought of going out and buying more blankets, but they couldn’t give any indication that they were moving out. They couldn’t stop the mail or say goodbye to anyone except Herc’s family. They had to disappear. The few people left in New York who knew they were in the Movement would probably figure out what had happened, but even those people knew Peggy only as Adrienne. Nobody had any idea what had become of Peggy Schuyler or her sisters, and Alex wanted to be sure it stayed that way.
She had only spent a little more than two months in this apartment, but during that time, she had lived both the saddest and the happiest days of her life. The loss of her parents had left an empty space that nothing would fill, but having Gil beside her had made all the difference. Somehow, fleeing from the Greaters and leaving behind her childhood home, she had run straight into the arms of the man who had always been waiting for her.
Now this was their last night in this room, in this bed, and she was playing with his curls. “Je t’aime, chéri,” she told him, showing off her French.
He smiled and kissed her. “Je suis très fier de toi.” He pulled back a little, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her. “You are so beautiful,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe. He trailed his hand down to cup her breast, took the nipple between his thumb and his forefinger and rolled it gently. She gasped and gave a sharp cry of pleasure. He got to his knees and used both hands, one on each breast, careful with the pressure, pulling a little.
“Oh, God, Gil,” she moaned.
“It’s good?”
“So good …”
*Gil*
He bent his head down and took one nipple in his mouth, scraped his teeth over it, not quite enough to hurt, but enough to make her hips jerk involuntarily. He did it again, sucking on the nipple pressed between his tongue and his teeth, and then he kept doing it because he loved the noises she was making. When she put her hand between her legs, he stopped, kissed both breasts and then kissed her belly and flicked his tongue in her navel. He kissed right below her navel, and then gently pushed her hand away and put his head between her legs.
He started with a soft kiss, then he licked a long slow stroke back to front, finishing at her clit.
She let out a low moan.
He did it again, slower, deeper, his tongue sliding into her. She arched up and pushed toward him.
Again, deeper still, and then holding her open with his fingers so that he could bare the head of her clit to his tongue, circling it, skimming it, as her hips moved and she twisted her fingers in his hair, pulling it without even realizing what she was doing. He loved it.
Her moaning became a sort of keening wail as he went faster and slid a finger into her to press up on the nerve center as he kept flicking her clit with his tongue. A few seconds of that sent her flying over the edge, her hips bucking up again and again. He didn’t stop until she collapsed under him, gasping and whimpering and saying his name over and over.
He pulled himself back up next to her, kissing her neck and her jaw as she lay panting, trying to catch her breath. He pulled her close to him, her back to his front, wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled the back of her neck and kissed the soft place just below her hairline. “Je t’aime, ma belle.”
“Oh, Gil, oh, my God …”
“It’s good, yes?”
“Yes. Yes. I didn’t … Gil, how do you …” Her voice trailed off as if she didn’t really want answers. “Thank you.”
“Sh,” he told her, half laughing. “Don’t thank me for doing something I enjoy so much.”
“I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel,” she whispered.
“Oh, but you do, chérie, every single time. There is nothing more powerful than knowing I can give you pleasure. I see it, I hear it, I feel it … I can’t even describe to you what it is like to feel you start to tremble against my tongue, and I know I have done that, I have made you feel that.”
“And you’re proud of yourself.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
“So very proud that I may become quite arrogant.”
She rolled to her back and took him in her hand, feeling how hard he was. “Do I do that to you?” she asked.
“Every time. Every day. All I have to do is think of you.” She was stroking him, and it was getting harder to talk. She put her fingers inside herself to get them wet and rubbed the wetness on him so her hand could slide back and forth more easily. She did it again. “Ma chérie,” he murmured, and pulled her under him.
She scraped her nails lightly down his back, all the way down, trailing her fingers over his ass. He made a noise deep in his throat and she opened her legs wide. “Je veux te baiser,” he whispered, his mouth almost on hers.
“Baise-moi,” she told him, and he thrust into her as hard as he could.
*Peggy and Gil*
Peggy stood to the side holding Katie while Herc and Gil tried to get everything into the Audi. Not everything was going to fit no matter what they did. They were debating what to leave behind when John pulled up next to them in his car. He got out and leaned against the fender of the Acura.
“Put the rest of it in my car,” he said. “I’m going with you.”
Herc raised an eyebrow at him. “They throw you out too?”
John shook his head. “Nah, they like my old man’s money, but there’s no way in hell I’m staying here by myself.”
Gil grabbed his shoulder. “Dieu merci. We really couldn’t manage without you.”
They repacked everything, finding room for all of it in the two cars, and by evening, seven adults and a one-year-old baby were living in a two-bedroom, one-bath cabin in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania.