Chapter Three
May 5, 1770
That day, as Gillian would admit, felt very strange. She didn't know what exactly caused it, for the morning had gone as it typically did: her and Samuel waking up, gathering Fillan's sleepy body up and setting him to work before continuing into their normal routines. Everyone moved about in no different fashion than that of their normalcy, leaving the girl to ponder why on earth she'd feel something slight to dread invading her mind.
Even as she cooked their lunch, she couldn't help but let fear rise in her as she peered about their furnace and kitchenware. Something just seemed… off.
As she tried to pull her mind away from the lingering feelings of anxiety, Gillian abandoned their meals for a moment, strolling into the room adjacent to the kitchen to find Samuel working hard at sanding down a table top. Upon approaching her other half, the girl cocked her head at his handiwork, admiring the craft.
"That looks very nice, darling," she said, focusing on making her expression less worried and more sincere as the young man looked up in pleasant surprise. His smile was so bright she could've melted.
"Not as nice…" he said, standing up and throwing the sander down, coming to stand in front of the girl while wrapping his arms around her waist. "As you." Then he gave her a quick kiss, taking Gillian's hands within his wood dusted ones. There was a moment of silence as the girl could tell there seemed to be something he was about to say, though it just didn't seem as if he could spit it out. Sam's eyes darted here and there for a moment, before landing on the girl's. It only aided in increasing her fear.
"What's wrong?" She asked, eyes wide and stepping back to assess him, as if he'd been injured in some way. Though Samuel only shook his head, pulling on the redhead's hands in order to bring her back into close proximity to him.
"Nothing, nothing. It's just, I've done a lot of thinking… and I'm seventeen now, as are you. And I wanted to know…" he trailed off, reaching into his pocket for something that the girl was unaware of. "... if you would… m- marry me." Then from the palm of his hand, the carpenter revealed a small wooden ring that Gillian knew he'd made just for her. And of course, the ring was ever beautiful, full of winding engravings and their initials etched on the interior, similar to that of Faline's ring.
Gillian felt almost winded for a second, having not expected that with a morning of dread would there be an evening of celebration, because she was going to in fact say yes to his anxious question.
"Samuel, I'd have no other hand but yours in marriage," then she took the ring gently, placing it upon her finger in the moment of their binding. Together, they were one. For the girl, it was something truly special, not only for the reason that they were engaged, but for the idea that she'd never thought she could trust in a man again. Albeit Sam's age being hers, it still was a sting in her heart to see that perhaps they all grew up the same. Though, as it seemed, she was wrong, knowing that she'd never met anything more sweet in all of her travels. He wouldn't ever dare hurt her like she'd been tarnished by so many others.
Unable to contain his delight and excitement for the successful proposal, Samuel wrapped the girl in a tight hug before leaning away and kissing her feverishly on the lips, hand tangled in her shoulder length hair in an attempt to pull her closer.
Soon, things were led to the bedroom, where they enjoyed their new chapter in life together as the rest of the house was quiet, and the lunch on their kitchen counter laid abandoned. Slowly, the food began to stale…
Later that evening…
In the midst of the couple's eventful day, they'd decided to keep their newfound engagement a secret until that night's dinner, where they had gone to eat at their dearest friend's house. During the supper, both Gillian and Samuel decided that it would be wise to announce the proposal to everyone while they were all together, as occasionally their plans became rather busy and it was few in times they'd be able to earn these visits. Though, the ring in which the redhead wore would give it away if anyone seemed to notice.
Even as she brought out the food to be served, she attempted to conceal the small accessory, though she truly doubted anyone would notice the item, lesser comment on it.
"Here we go lads," Gillian sighed, coming around the table to seat herself between Fillan and Samuel, who casually spoke with their friends, the Carys and the Greendwoods.
On the beginning days of the brother and sister's descent into Boston, they'd been greeted warmly by Isaac and John Greenwood, having been secured quickly by them through Fillan's apprenticeship beneath Samuel, who himself was an apprentice, but a rather skilled one. Luckily their business held a stance of wealth and they owned a home fitting for more people, allowing Gillian and her brother to stay within the Greenwood establishment. She'd never been more thankful for the wonders they'd done for the siblings, and even more for the fact that they had brought her and Sam together.
Harry and Reginald Cary were merely friends of the Greenwoods that they had gotten the pleasure of knowing through time. And as of late, they'd all been in a schedule of having dinner at some point over their weeks; which Gillian would admit, was almost like living in a dream for her. She'd never had such great friends who not only cared for her, but just simply had great intentions.
"Smells delicious," Isaac commented, seeing the fish on his plate salted and buttered to a perfect degree, laced with various spices. Immediately he was digging in, having a long day at work really grinding down on his appetite. After taking a mouthful he waved his hand in the air. "And tastes delicious!" Then he was back to it.
Everyone around the table laughed, taking a portion of their meals and confirming that the dish was truly well made.
"You better snatch her up before someone else does, Sammy boy," John said to Samuel, nudging his arm while they both stared at Gillian. The girl went on, not noticing the commentary directed at her, though Fillan heard it.
"Oi, what are ya' sayin' down there?" The boy, now fourteen and rather proud, asked, making John blush slightly when everyone's gaze was directed unto him, and Samuel. Well, he looked about ready to reveal his secret to everyone now that he suddenly had their attention.
Though right as he opened his mouth to confess the simple words, the alarm bells from outside began ringing. Everyone in the party looked around in confusion, having not heard the chimes ever before. Typically if the bells had been rung, there'd been a fire or something more disastrous going on to warn the people about.
"I reckon that's the alarm bell," Isaac said, standing from his precious meal to peer out their front windows with curiosity. It didn't seem to reveal any smoke wafting into the air, nor any sort of glow hinting at a flame. What on earth could be the matter? "I will go and see what the trouble is."
From behind, Samuel grabbed their coats and began walking towards the front door. "Aye, I'll come as well," he added, stepping outside and into the cold evening, the sun just barely having an effect on the sky. "Perhaps it is but a meeting that had no better means of gathering people." As Isaac pulled his coat on, he appeared doubtful to the explanation but processed the possibility.
"I suppose, though we shall find out," he said, leading Samuel out the door. Everyone else clamored to the windows, some of the brothers putting their coats on, as well as Fillan. Seeing everyone suit up for a departure, Gillian fetched her shawl and came by her brother's side, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder.
"We will wait a few minutes and see if they return," she told him, that feeling of dread rising within her again. Something was wrong, more than a mere fire terrorizing the night.
Making leave were both the Carys, Reggie turning to peer in the door at Gillian. "Stay here, don't want you and the young one to freeze, tis bitter tonight." Then he was off, leaving the girl to roll her eyes. She'd do as she pleased, and had her own say about the means of herself and Fillan. John, who stood there yet laughed lightly at seeing her reaction to the statement, though didn't speak on it when the girl herself continued to look despaired.
"Can't we go?" Fillan asked, wanting to quell his curiosity and see what all the fuss was about, to go out with all the older men.
"Yes, I don't know this feeling in me, but it is nothing good," she sighed, taking hold of her brother's hand, though he tried to free himself before realizing it was a battle not to be won. He'd make his sister feel better and just… be treated like a child in the protection of it's mother.
As soon as she'd took hold of Fillan, they were rushed out the door to go to Commons and see what was going on. And it appeared not to be too hard to discover the location of the disruption when crowds of people were heading to the Commons House. Meandering through the Bostonians and embarking upon their shouting figures, Gillian and Fillan were able to discover the true madness of what they dealt with.
There, in front of the house, was a massive mob that had gathered, and was continuing to get bigger. And from her place in the rear of the mass, Gillian could spot Samuel and Isaac entering the sea of people. Her heart began racing, wondering why on earth they'd allow themselves to be sucked into whatever mess it was. The redcoats would most likely reprimand those who were participating in the act, so it would be wise to stay clear of the riled up crowd, even more considering they were hounding soldiers who stood on the front steps of the building.
Sure, Gillian didn't quite agree with everything that the British were doing, but she didn't think it was so awful to criticize those who were only following orders and doing what they could to provide for their families, and country. Everyone in the world had a devoted loyalty, which obviously created sides to be fought on behalf of, and Gillian wished that everyone could just respect that fact instead of believe there is something truly atrocious of it. If there was really such an issue, they should be heading to the commander's house, or even report on the governor.
"What's happening?" Fillan asked, looking onto the rather violent scene.
Gillian just exhaled, leaving the cloud of a sigh to roll past the boy's face. "I've not much clue on what the matter is, but I suppose they aren't happy with the soldiers being here," she explained. "You see, many people were evicted from their property in order to give the soldiers homes." As if the vile act had been done onto Fillan himself, he scowled and looked up to his sister.
"How dare they? March in here and expect to take the house of another, like they've been entitled due to the gun and coat on their back," he bickered bitterly, arms crossed as he turned back to look at the scene, a newfound respect for those who were standing up for themselves and battling back against the redcoats. "This truly is tyranny of the King."
"Watch your tongue. Your belief has right, though you say the wrong things here and whether or not it's fair, you'll be ridiculed." The girl wrapped a protective arm over his shoulders.
"Is it not obvious to you that everyone hates them? The lobsterbacks?" Fillan asked his sister innocently.
"Christ Fillan, don't call them that, they're soldiers. And there are plenty still loyal to King George," Gillian explained, watching as the mob became louder and seemingly more disruptive. "There's an amount of respect you have to give them for standing there, taking a beating under the things that are out of their control."
"Have you not respect for those who are no more ordinary than me and you, standing up against an entire empire?" The boy asked, slipping from the girl's arm to look pointedly at her, trying to make her see what exactly he was picturing.
"Of course I respect them, but perhaps there is a better way to go about this."
"In what way?" He questioned.
She thought for a moment, "well, I suppose-"
Suddenly, out from nowhere, there was a loud echo of a gunshot, prompting the siblings to look up sharply. Then, no sooner than it sounded, there were more, a cloud of smoke rising from where the soldiers had been standing at the front of the house. Gillian didn't even know how to think straight as she realized they'd just fired into the crowd; the same crowd that Samuel and Isaac had disappeared into.
Forgetting about her brother, the girl broke out into a sprint, running into the dispersing crowd to see if she could find Sam or even Isaac. Though she hoped she wouldn't and they'd have already fled home to tell them of not a fire but just a mob. Though as she approached the area where a few bodies had fallen, she found a mop of light brown hair peeking out from a jumble of middle aged men.
Gillian flocked over to them, pushing through their shoulders to peer down at whoever had been struck on the ground, gasping when she saw Sam's pain riddled face, a large bloodied hole in his stomach.
"Samuel!" She cried out, making the men who'd been giving aid to the boy turn and assess her stance in the situation.
"Step back girl, he needs room," one of the men said quickly, looping one of the boy's arms around his shoulder while the other four took separate limbs, hoisting him up. Gillian was about to follow them to the doctor, as she figured that was where they'd been headed, when she remembered that Fillan was still out there.
"Fillan!" She called, running back to the place she'd left him, only to find the boy standing there, frozen in his place, just staring at the Commons House. "Fillan, are you alright, you're not hurt? Come with me, come," she took his hand, leading them quickly back to where the men were working their way through to the Wolcott practice. A small feeling of relief washed over her as she saw the business sign meet her gaze, knowing that Samuel would be well taken care of.
Templar doctors were in fact the greatest kind.