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Cardinal Points

December 16, 1773 Boston, Massachusetts

The dark night was tense as Oona helped men into war-paint and feathers. She stuck a feather in a knitted fisherman’s cap and blinked. It was the grown face of the boy whose smile she had longed for through ten long years of indenture. A contract she would no nothing to break or extend past her birthday in May. Certainly not fall in love.

Jason was one of the seamen here to commit treason, by dumping the tea. Lifting her by her waist, he kissed her soundly. Lucky, he had no memory of that sniveling ten year old, crossing from Dublin on his uncle’s ship. 

The men howled “no one kisses Oona,” Jason FitzSimmon laughed. He had come to Boston to make the American town his home. He liked it here, even the treasonous energy that seemed to hover in the air, enticing to the fourth son of a Duke.

IN A WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN, THE ONLY THING RIGHT - MAY BE LOVE.

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