AmericaxReaderxEngland~The Loyalist~Part 2

AmericaxReaderxEngland~The Loyalist~Part 2

Something stirred in your heart. Whether it was a feeling of dread or expectation, you did not know; all you knew was that there was uproar in the colonies—particularly in Massachusetts—due to the recent amount of acts Parliament was enforcing. Nowadays, the colonists referred to them as the "Intolerable Acts" or the "Coercive Acts" due to the absurdity of the laws they carried.

When the first act, the Boston Port Act, was enforced, the Boston harbors were shut down making getting resources extremely rare. You had noticed the supplies in the stores were beginning to dwindle, and some desperate people resorted to stealing from the British forts. Needless to say, it didn't go so well.

Shortly after, two more had followed: the Massachusetts Government Act and the Administration of Justice Acts. As a result of the acts, Alfred brought suspicious characters over to his house. He would usually tell you to go to a friend's house while he chatted with them in secret. You had protested several times, but the look in his eyes told you that he was truly concerned for your safety.

One night, after Alfred's company had left, you told him to stay behind so you could talk to him.

"Alfred, not all British are bad," you said washing the coffee cups in a bin of water.

"I know there are exceptions," Alfred admitted, "but think about what Parliament is doing to us! They've closed the ports, they've restricted our privileges to hold meetings in public, and they've even let the damned bloodbacks get away with theft and murder thanks to the Murder Act!"

"It's not called the 'Murder Act,' it's called the 'Administration of Justice Act,'" you corrected Alfred with a defiant voice.

Alfred scoffed. "'Administration of Justice,' my ass," he spat. "Three of my friends were sentenced to prison for refusing to let a bloodback pass—"

"Must you insist on calling them 'bloodbacks?'" you cried out suddenly startling Alfred and making him jump back.

Your breath became short as you tried to maintain your composure in front of Alfred, but remembering the times you had seen him disappear for nights at times and come back exhausted was too much for your delicate frame to handle.

"Arthur was one of those 'bloodbacks'" you reminded your friend. "And he was the kindest gentleman anyone would ever meet—more than you could ever be! I will not tolerate you calling the group that Arthur was proud to serve as anything bloody!"

Alfred opened his mouth to protest, but he held himself back.

"___________, forgive me," he whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you." You could see the regret filling his eyes, but the damage had already been done.

"I still have my regrets, Alfred," your voice quavered. "There are times I wish that I had followed my husband, and times I am grateful that you saved me." You looked into Alfred's blue eyes with a hard gaze. "When I see you disappear, I don't know when you'll come back. Do you realize how much that hurts me? To know that you could be hurting others, hurting yourself?"

Hurting the people that were once Arthur's friends and companions? you longed to say.

Alfred was a Son of Liberty. Arthur had been a British soldier that served directly under the Crown. Even after Alfred had saved you and talked of bringing change and freedom to the colonies, you still found your heart tied down by your late fiancé.

But there was another problem. Even though your feelings were conflicted with Alfred, your feelings were growing stronger for him. Worrying about him constantly made you realize that.

"___________, I'm not only doing this for the colonies, I'm specifically doing this for you," Alfred said breaking you from your thoughts.

"Excuse me?" you blinked.

"___________, there is so much out there, you wouldn't believe it until you saw it," Alfred said with a far-off smile. "The world has so much more to see. Our ancestors came to this land looking for an opportunity to begin their lives anew. When I saw you on that bridge with the thought that the world had nothing left for you to offer, I couldn't just ignore you." He trailed his hand through your jawline, but you didn't flinch.

"Once Parliament has removed the Proclamation Line, we will be free to expand to the west. There, true potential is just waiting for us to make a grab at it! To start over! Wouldn't you like that, __________? You could forget about your old life and your painful memories once this is all over. And…" He paused.

"A-Alfred?" your voice trembled as he leaned closer and closer until his lips sealed yours in a kiss. It was warm and tender, just like Arthur's, but it was stronger and more passionate than the gentle touch of your late fiancé's lips.

The two of you had stood locked in an affectionate trance, Alfred for his love for you, you for your longing to have assurance from Alfred.

"…We could start over together," Alfred said with a warm smile after leaving your lips. "Leave your old memories and pain behind, ____________. I'm sure Arthur would not have wanted you to wallow in mourning for the rest of your life."

"Alfred…I…" For the first time in a long time—even since meeting Alfred—you smiled. "You're right. Arthur's heart would break if he saw me like this." You took a moment to regain your composure while Alfred jumped in.

"Have some faith in me, ____________," he said with a soft chuckle. "With just a little more time, we will soon be free from the British rule. You just need to be more patient. You'll see."

You sighed and giggled. "Alright, Alfred," you said. "I'll put my faith into you. But you must promise not to get into any serious trouble."

"Of course not!" Alfred laughed.

You narrowed your eyes. "Promise," you repeated.

Alfred cleared his face of any expressions so that you could take him seriously, but you saw a faint spark in his eyes. Perhaps it was the candlelight.

"I promise, _____________," he said putting his hand to his heart. Then he moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face upwards for another kiss.

-----

The streets of Boston were humid from the coming of summer of 1774. You were on your way back from the textile shop when you saw a crowd gathered across the main square. You could recognize some of your colonist friends and neighbors and the brilliant red coats of British troops that were lined up around the front borders of the crowd. A man was reading from a long piece of parchment. Judging from the powered wig and accent, he was British.

"…And be it further enacted by the authority aforedsaid that, if it shall happen at any time that any officers or soldiers in His Majesty's service shall remain within any of the said colonies without quarters for the space of twenty four hours after such quarters shall have been demanded…

"…and to put and quarter such officers and soldiers therin for such time as he shall think proper."

"What sort of madness is this?!" a spectator cried.

"We'll have no bloody redcoats stationed in our homes!" a woman shouted.

"Red coat bastards!"

"Go back to where you came from!"

Another act has been enforced? you wondered after hearing the last of the act being read.

"Silence!" the announced shouted. "The Quartering Act is a direct response to your own refusal to cooperate with the Crown! Any resistance put up against the Empire will be detained and questioned!"

Still, the protests continued. You sighed and went on your way. It wouldn't be long before Alfred would pick this new Intolerable Act up.

-----

You knew that Alfred and his acquaintances had gone off to Charlestown to meet with men of similar ideals as he did. With the cottage all to yourself, you had plenty of time to spare to practice your needlework.

Arthur's embroidery skills had been better than yours even with your practice, though. You were never able to recreate the beautifully woven dyed threads that spun pictures and tales of his magical friends.  You had not seen Flying Mint Bunny or any of Arthur's other companions so it was hard to capture the details that he knew of.

Sighing in your frustration at not being able to recreate your late fiancé's work, you set down your embroidery hoop and needle and went to a drawer and opened it. Memories of Arthur flooded back to you when you saw the familiar things that reminded you of your late beloved. There were handkerchiefs and quilts that had been decorated with pictures of fairies, unicorns, will-of-the-wisps, and green rabbits with wings. A smile cracked across your face when you saw them, but this time, you did not cry for Alfred was right; it was time to leave the memories of your late fiancé behind.

You took one of the handkerchiefs out of the dresser. When you unfolded it, you could see a small pattern of Flying Mint Bunny on the corner. You remembered telling Arthur that you couldn't bear to waste such a perfectly good piece of handwork on yourself so you had kept it tucked away along with all of the other works he had given you upon completion.

This isn't something that I'm trying to revive from my memories, you told yourself. I am merely using this as a reference.

After setting the handkerchief on the edge of your lap, you picked up your needlework and resumed embroidering.

A few hours had passed and you had made good progress just by looking at Arthur's work. With nearly a third of it done, you decided it was time to call it a night. You had changed into your nightgown and went to your room to sleep, but a few minutes later, you heard a knock at your door.

Could it be Alfred? you wondered questionably. He wasn't supposed to be back until next week, but one could never be too sure.

When you opened the door, you jumped when you saw the red uniform of a British soldier. The soldier blinked and looked down in embarrassment as your were still in your nightgown.

"Good evening, Ms. [last name]," he said, his face flushing in the same shade of red as his coat. "I am here to let you know that in regards to the newly-enforced Quartering Act, you have been given a twenty-four hour notice to inform you that your residence will be used to house a British soldier."

"Oh…" you said. This wasn't good. Alfred would be back in a few days so you had to make sure.

"Do you know how long this person will be staying?" you asked.

The soldier cleared his throat. "He didn't have a set time. I was only assigned to be the messenger."

"Very well then," you said not wanting to embarrass yourself or the soldier anymore with your inappropriate attire. "Good night, sir."

"Same to you, Ms. [last name]."

You shut and locked the door when the soldier turned to leave and began to pace.

If a soldier is stationed here, then Alfred could have a chance at being exposed! you thought horrified. I'll just have to wait and see. I don't want to notify Alfred immediately because the soldier could be gone by the time he gets back, but I don't want to jeopardize his safety, either!

Letting out a heavy sigh, you just decided to wait until the morning to see if you could find out how long the soldier would be staying.

-----

You had spent all morning tidying up your cottage for the British soldier's arrival. Alfred and his friends were generally clean folks, but they would sometimes track mud and funny smells into your home so you had to scrub the floors and air out the living quarters.

Once you felt like everything was in order, all you had to do was wait. You took out your needlework and began to continue at where you had left off.

After a few hours, and the wings of your recreated Flying Mint Bunny complete, you heard another knock on your door. You set your things down, straightened yourself up, and went to your front door.

When you opened it, you could've sworn your heart had stopped beating. Your breath grew short, and your (e/c) eyes grew wide upon seeing who was going to be stationed in your home.

"A-A-Arthur!" you exclaimed.