AmericaxReaderxEngland~The Loyalist~Part 1

AmericaxReaderxEngland~The Loyalist~Part 1

"Promise me you'll write when you arrive safely," you said clutching your fiancé's hand.

Arthur Kirkland gave you a light kiss on your forehead and smiled sadly.

"I promise, _____________," he said. "And when I return, then we shall have our wedding."

A single tear escaped your eye. Arthur moved forward and kissed it away.

"Don't be sad, _____________," he smiled. "I'll only be a few months. You can take care of yourself for me until then, can't you?"

"I'll try my best," you sniffed.

"Alright," Arthur chuckled softly, but sadly. "Farewell then."

"Goodbye, Arthur," you said taking your fiancé in one final embrace before leaving.

Eventually, Arthur had to back away from you with a pained expression and headed for the ship that was set to go back to Great Britain, his red coat creating a stunning contrast against the dull landscape of winter.

-----

For many weeks you waited for a letter from Arthur to arrive. You knew that each voyage took several days, if not weeks, so you told yourself to be patient and look forward to each day for the letter to come.

One brisk day, you heard a knock on your cottage door. When you opened it, you saw a redcoat standing in front of you.

"Yes?" you said opening the door in full view.

The British soldier took off his black hat and clutched it with both hands.

"I'm sorry, Ms. [last name], but I'm afraid your fiancé was lost at sea when he was on his way back to the Empire."

You only stared with lightless eyes. It couldn't be true. It wasn't possible. You had spoken to Arthur only a few weeks ago.

"You have my condolences, Ms. [last name]," the soldier said placing his hat back on his head. "I truly am sorry for your loss. Farewell."

Without another word, the redcoat walked away in a similar manner as Arthur did those many weeks ago.

You didn't know how long you had stood in your doorway letting in a cold breeze that swept inside your heated cottage. Time could have easily passed you by without you even noticing it as the sky began to grow dark.

You had given up so much to be with Arthur. You were prized for your beauty, and with the death of your parents leaving you with a large sum of money, suitors had travelled far and wide to court you, but you had refused them all for lack of interest.

From the day you met Arthur, you knew he was a trueborn gentleman: polite, noble, and handsome with his golden-blonde hair and lovely green eyes—a notable feature he had was his sporting pair of thick eyebrows. You had met him when you were picking up textiles to make a new quilt for yourself when he had asked you if you knew where the colored threads were. He had been impressed with your knowledge of the different threads and stiches—and your beauty—and offered you to have tea with him at his appointed cottage.

You had known right away that he was British from his accent and mannerism, but you had not known he was a redcoat until he was called to move to Boston. These were troubled times for the redcoats as tensions were rising between the colonies and the British. You had heard rumors floating around about taking action against the "blood-backs," but nothing was completely certain at the time.

When Arthur had asked if you would like to go with him to Boston, you agreed immediately. It was shortly after settling down that he had proposed to you, but any plans of having a wedding were put on hold when Arthur had been called back to Great Britain to sort out some matters with his higher-ups and the Crown.

Now that Arthur was gone, you had nothing to look forward to. There were other suitors, but they were so dull and old. Even if you had a reason to spend your fortune, you couldn't because you needed to be married before even a pence could be passed on to you.

Arthur had been the perfect man. And now…he was dead.

There was no reason for you to live anymore.

-----

Your feet somehow led you to a cobblestone bridge. You walked to the edge and leaned forward looking at the icy river below. There was ice on the banks and snow cloaking the leaves, but there was still run-off from the mountains, and a swift-moving current was seen flowing underneath the thin layer of ice.

You and Arthur had shared your first kiss here. He had told you that it was rare to see such clear and raw beauty of nature back at Great Britain because of all the villages and towns that were set up over the large island. He had compared you to the river: sharp and swift, powerful, and ever-flowing like your free-flowing hair that blew in the wind.

Just then, you could have sworn you saw something in the reflection of the icy current.

Is that…?

A green rabbit. It had wings. It circled around the thin ice and flew up to you forming its muzzle in an adorable smile.

You remembered Arthur talking about his "magical friends." And here was one of them. Judging by its green fur, you assumed that this was Flying Mint Bunny. At first, you thought he was teasing you, but when he would embroider intricate patterns of unicorns, fairies, tiny blue balls of fire, and green bunny-rabbits with wings, you were convinced that perhaps Arthur was able to see something that you weren't.

You gasped as Flying Mint Bunny circled you and dove down from the bridge plunging into the freezing depths of the river.

"Wait!" you cried reaching over the bridge. You hurried over the other side hoping you could see Arthur's magical friend, but he was nowhere in sight.

Maybe… you thought. Maybe Arthur is waiting for me. Surely being able to see this creature is a sign!

Without even a moment's hesitation, you stood on the edge of the bridge and jumped.

You were expecting your body to make contact with biting cold water upon impact, but you never did. Instead, you felt the air whoosh out of your stomach as you felt something grab onto your waist preventing you from getting any closer to where Arthur may have been.

"No!" you cried thrashing about. "Release me! He's waiting for me! Arthur's waiting for me!"

"Are you crazy?!" your captor cried holding you firmly. "You were about to fall to your death, and you wanted that?!"

"Arthur! I'm coming!" you shouted still resisting the—judging from the voice, it was a man—man's grasp. But you lost, and the man pulled you back to the safety of the solid ground.

"Why?!" you screamed striking the panting man. "He was there! I know he was! The rabbit was showing me the way!"

The man caught his breath and looked up. You couldn't help but feel a slight blush come along as your eyes fell on the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes you had ever seen.

"I don't know if you've gone insane or what," he breathed, "but I'm glad I saved you."

You blinked and furrowed your eyebrows. "And why would you be glad to separate me from my love?" you asked.

The man leaned back to rest and gave you a smile that could win even the most cold-spirited woman's heart over.

"Because it would be a shame to see such a beautiful lady die in such a tragic way."

You were at a loss for words. This man had saved your life, and you should have been grateful. But you were certain that Flying Mint Bunny would not be appearing again. Arthur was dead, and you would have to accept the fact that joining him meant killing yourself. He would not have wanted that. You were sure of that much.

"Thank you…" you said in a barely audible voice.

The man smiled again making something stir in your bosom.

"You're welcome," he said. "I'm Alfred F. Jones."

"I'm ___________ _____________, Mr. Jones," you replied.

"Please just call me 'Alfred,' Ms. [last name]," your savior chuckled. "I don't enjoy bothering with formalities."

"Then you must call me _____________," you said with a smile.

"Of course, _____________," Alfred said getting to his feet and helping you up.

-----

"That's awful," Alfred commented when you told him why you wanted to jump. "I can only imagine what it must feel like to lose a loved one."

"I feel selfish, but I shouldn't be so distraught over this," you said with a sad waver in your voice "I have already had to witness my mother die at such a young age, and my father left me only a few months ago."

"I see…" Alfred's voice trailed off.

You picked you head up and looked at your walking companion. "But at least something good came out of this absurd day," you said.

"And what would that be?" Alfred asked directing his gaze into your (e/c) eyes.

You made a small smile. "I was able to meet a brave and noble colonist for a change."

Alfred raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Are you implying that most, if not all, colonists are cowards and rugged barbarians?"

"Not at all!" you giggled softly. "I am just saying I have not been exposed to many men of good virtue in my lifetime."

"Well, I'm glad I'm an exception, ____________."

"Indeed," you chucked.

-----

Weeks went by. The colonies changed. You changed with them.

Since the day Alfred had rescued you for your watery doom, you had begun to notice things. Taxes were beginning to get out of control; the redcoats were starting to situate themselves in large numbers, and the townsfolk were beginning to grow restless. Ever since the horrific massacre in the cold streets of Boston had taken place shortly before you and Arthur had settled down, there was a deathly tight tension in the air. Everyone was telling you that the British could not be trusted, and it would only be a short amount of time before something big happened.

Though you had not completely gotten over the fact that Arthur was gone, you often wondered if things would have been safer if he had stayed back in Great Britain where he would be safe from the radical colonists that would publicly humiliate redcoats and tax collectors in front of the town square.  

Luckily for you, Alfred had helped you through troubled times by falsifying your name under his so you could withdraw money from your family's inheritance. The dashing colonist had a youthful vigor that talked of his past when he would help his family out in their settlement in the woods in the far north. Now that he had grown up, he bid his family farewell to make something out of himself in the larger settlements.

You had to admit: Alfred was not the brightest man in the colonies, but his heart was in the right place, and your spirits would lift whenever you spent time with him—which happened to be quite a hefty amount these days.

"__________, I won't be coming tonight," Alfred told you after thanking you for supper. You noticed that he did not touch his tea.

"Would you be so kind as to tell me why?" you asked taking a sip of your own tea. You saw Alfred wrinkle his nose when he saw you drinking from your cup.

"I can't tell you," he said looking away.

"Alfred?" you cocked your head to your side and lowered your eyebrows.

"If I tell you, you might get hurt," Alfred said adjusting his suit. He walked to your front door and opened it. "Have a good night, __________."

"You, too…" you said feeling a dreadful feeling in your gut.

-----

"Did you hear the news?" a local shopkeeper asked you as you stopped by to get some groceries.

"No," you said looking up from your grocery selection.

The shopkeeper looked around suspiciously as if she was being spied on and leaned close to your ear.

"They say that last night, three ships'-worth of tea was dumped overboard!" she whispered excitedly.

You frowned. "Does this have something to do with the tax on tea?" you asked.

"I believe so!" the shopkeeper said. "The ones responsible called themselves the 'Sons of Liberty!' Dressed up as red-skinned Mohawks, they did!"

"Sons of Liberty?" you repeated. Why did it sound so familiar? You heard it somewhere before, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

Dismissing the thought, you reached for a container of tea that was marked with a British Empirical seal on it.

"Ah ah!" the shopkeeper said catching your hand.

"Something the matter?" you asked lifting your eyebrows in surprise.

"Nowadays, because of the high taxes on tea, the colonies are beginning to boycott the bloody stuff," the shopkeeper informed you. "You don't have a problem because of your inheritance and Alfred's help—bless the young gentleman—but if you're caught seen with this stuff, they consider you a follower of the Crown."

"But this is just tea!" you exclaimed softly looking longingly at the container. You had never like the colonist alternative, coffee—dreadful stuff—and this particular brand was Arthur's favorite. Having a cup or two every now and then soothed your nerves and took you back to those simple days when the British and colonists weren't neck-to-neck in protests about taxes.

"Tea or not, this is still considered to be a mark of loyalty to the British Empire!" the shopkeeper hissed. "If you value your safety, you will do well to watch yourself, __________!"

You snorted and put the container in your basket.

"I'll still take one, if you don't mind," you huffed.

"____________! You've still got the potential to find a good husband! Don't take the risk!"

"I am not taking any risks," you insisted. "I am merely desiring a simple luxury for myself that will remind me of my long-lost fiancé. Is that really a problem?"

"It's your funeral. Not mine," the shopkeeper warned.

-----

When you got back to your cottage, you nearly jumped out of your wits when you saw Alfred making himself at home by fixing up a pot of coffee using a simple method of filtration to let the hot water seep into the roasted beans.

"Alfred! You startled me!" you gasped holding your hand to your chest. Your heart was pounding like mad in your chest cavity.

"Sorry, ___________," Alfred apologized. "I was just doing some errands last night, and I thought that since your cottage was nearby, then I could just ste—" He stopped talking and stared at your basket. He walked over and pried the basket from your arm despite your protests.

You held your breath when you saw Alfred take out a container of tea, the British Empirical symbol cutting through the design of the box like knives against bleeding skin.

"Is this tea?" Alfred asked looking at you with a sort of disgust on his face that you had not seen before.

"It is," you said shortly.

Alfred said something under his breath and set the box down. You gasped out in surprise when he put his hands on your shoulders and pinned you to a wall.

"What are you doing, Alfred?" you asked in a quavering voice. Your body was trembling in fright and your legs had turned into fickle pudding.

"___________, I'll tell you this once for your safety," the blue-eyed colonist said looking straight into your eyes with a fiery glint. "Do not buy anymore of that stuff. It's British trash. Things are changing in the colonies, and I can't afford to see you get branded a traitor."

"It's just tea, Alfred!" you said in a similar way as with the shopkeeper.

"It's a symbol of the Crown!" Alfred shouted making you flinch. He immediately regretted raising his voice and lowered it to a soft lull. "I'm sorry. It's just that…there has been talk in the colonies. The redcoats' numbers are starting to get stronger, and the taxes are just plain ridiculous. It isn't safe to show any loyalty to the Empire, __________. If they dub you a Loyalist, then…" Alfred's voice trailed off.

You eyed Alfred suspiciously.

"What were you doing last night, Alfred?" you asked him taking his hands off of your shoulders. You examined him scanning every detail of his clothes and face. Then you noticed something peculiar and brushed your hand on Alfred's cheek. When you pulled your hand away, it was covered with a smudged bluish paint.

That's where you heard of the Sons of Liberty! You had overheard Alfred talking about it with some of his acquaintances only a few days ago.

"Alfred! You're a Son of Liberty!" you exclaimed in horror.

"So what if I am?" Alfred sneered throwing you a hard glare.

"You worry about me being exposed by the colonists! I worry about you being exposed by the British!" You threw your hands into the air. "Dumping tea into the harbor! What a foolish thing to do!"

"Are you angry because that means a shortage of the wretched stuff you so enjoy drinking?" Alfred growled through his teeth.

"No!" you raised your voice. "It's because if the redcoats detain you…" Your lips quivered and you looked away in emotional pain. "I cannot bear to lose another man in my lifetime. Not when it could have been so easily prevented."

Alfred ran his hand on your cheek to give you reassurance. "___________, the tides are switching. Pretty soon it will the redcoats and Loyalists who will have to fear the colonists and the Sons of Liberty. I will be fine." He gave you a slight smile. "I'm touched to know you care so much about me, thought."

"Alfred…" you placed your hand to where Alfred had his on your cheek.

"It's alright," Alfred said placing a finger on your lips to silence you. "The redcoats did not recognize me. And…" He looked back at your container of tealeaves. "I suppose drinking tea won't hurt—so as long as you do it in private."

"Thank you, Alfred," you giggled feeling slightly better.

"Don't mention it," the radical colonist said getting back to his coffee. He offered you some, but you refused.