Chapter Text
Chapter 4.
The Espousal Of Amy and Laurie, part 1.
(A.K.A, Jo, Meg, and Beth’s top secret plan to turn Laurie into their Brother-In-Law.)
(It fails miserably, at first.)
—
1866, February, Loving you so, Meg’s Point Of View.
—
Margaret may not have been the brightest in the family, but she was no fool. She could tell as much as Jo and Beth could that Amy and Laurie were far more than friends. It pegged the question of, ‘What exactly were they?’. Since the day she met the boy, he’d been so utterly infatuated with Jo she doubted he even took notice of anyone else at first. She suspected their entire family had been expecting the pair to eventually marry. It was unexpected at best to watch that same boy gaze at her youngest sister as if she
was the embodiment of beauty in itself. They were walking down the busy-bodied streets of concord, determined to find said sister the most splendid of gowns.
“I’ve heard the new boutique down on Saint Kels was rising in popularity at an incredible speed. It’s received countless good reviews so far.” She states happily. Beth’s head snaps up to hers, eyebrows rising. “A new boutique? There haven’t been any opened as of late..” She mutters. Jo snorts. “Though I’d argue that those shops aren’t necessary at all, the war’s been tough on everyone. It would have been hard to earn any profit a year ago from things as frivolous as extravagant new gowns, especially considering the communal wealth of the general area.” She rambles, tone indicating her displeasure. Amy sighs, turning to look at Laurie and smiling helplessly. He laughs, shaking his head. Meg watches them from the corner of her eye, face contorting in frustration. She, Beth and Amy all enter the shop with equally awed expressions, while Jo and Laurie resign to the back, play fighting like children.
After quite some time of nitpicking every little detail in every garb, Amy's eyes settle on a floral english floor gown with a square neckline and a corset seamed into the fabric. “These dresses are all already made, you say?” Meg questions absentmindedly, admiring the ensemble as she would a painting. “Quite modern, isn’t it? We believe that, in no time at all, ready to go gowns will be all over the world.” Says the shopkeeper, smiling as any good businessman would.
“I shall take it!” Declares Amy, her voice void of any shame for the lack of thought for the price. The shopkeeper smiles wonderfully, clapping her hands together once. “Very well, we’ll get you in for a fitting and resizing right away!” He states, hurrying her along to the back.
Grabbing the boy by the arm, Meg drags Laurie to the side, ignoring Jo’s admonitions. “What is going on between you and Amy?” She asks sharply, earning a cough of surprise from him. While Beth was certainly the least confrontational March, Meg was never big on arguments either. Still, it was quite humiliating, seeing the undisguised surprise of which her sisters’ expressions held. It wasn’t as though she had no backbone.. Was it? Ah! No time for such meaningless questions. “Whatever do you mean?” He asks nervously, fidgeting with his fingers and clearing his throat. “Oh, don’t play a fool, Laurie. I’ve seen that same look upon your face so many times over, if only a little different, and I’d like to know why the recipient of your bashful stare has changed in identity!” She argues. “While I may stand you playing me for a fool, I will not tolerate you playing my baby sister.” His next smile was not nervous, but warm with blinding affection. “I suppose hiding it is meaningless now.” He mutters. “Hiding what?” Asks Beth, stepping towards the two of them with Jo on her heed. “Are the two of you courting?” She questions with an adorably hopeful grin, earning a gasp from Meg herself and a groan from Jo. “How terrible at keeping secrets can you be?” Jo states rather than asks. Meg’s head flies in the girl's direction, brows knitting. “You knew!” “Well, of course I knew. I know Teddy better than anyone!” She exclaims, earning a bewildered expression from Laurie. “I came to your room the night she declined my offer in marriage and told you!” He croaks out disbelievingly.
“Marriage?!” Shouts Meg.
“Declined?!” Yelps Beth.
“Hey!” Scolds Jo.
“They needn’t know that!” She says shamelessly, earning a smack on the back of her head from Meg. “Why on earth would Amy reject Laurie?” Beth asks in confuzzlement. “Perhaps we ought to focus on the fact that Laurie proposed to begin with.” Admonishes Meg, unbelieving of the entire situation. “Well, yes, obviously. It’s just.. She’s been infatuated with him for forever, hasn’t she?” She questions incredulously. Meg, out of the corner of her eye, sees Laurie’s chest puff up with pride.
Oh, in the name of god.
—
Beth’s Point Of View.
—
“No! I’m not going along with it, no.” Shouts Meg, her tone firm and unmoving. “Please, Meg. We’re her sisters! It’s our duty to make sure she’s happy.” States Jo.
They were in the attic, bickering and fighting over Jo’s brilliant idea to get Amy to accept Laurie’s hand in marriage. Beth, of course, other than offering some quick remarks, stayed silent as the two girls fought. “Well, of course I want her to be happy… I just don’t think this is any of our business, is all.” Stammers Meg, voice filling with shame. “Oh, but it is our business!” Cries Jo. “She’s just so young! Her Sixteenth birthday is in a week's time!” Jo sighs, sitting down on a nearby sofa. “I thought so too at first. I mean, she was only Fifteen when he told me she’d turned him down. I was shocked, truly! But then, think about it, Meg. Amy’s been looking for a proper match ever since Horrid aunt March got the idea in her head. Who's more proper than Teddy? He loves our family, he’s got money, and he loves her!”
Meg harrumphs, crossing her arms. Beth nods in agreement. It was true, there might not be a better match for her than the boy. “Fine, say he proposes, and she says yes. What happens then? She’s not old enough to be married, and father would never hand off his youngest daughter at such a young age. I suspect his intentions were to keep her at home until she reached her middle thirties.” She mumbles. “Isn’t it better if they’re betrothed, though? It’s far more secure..” Questions Beth aloud.
Meg sighs, while Jo grins triumphantly. “That’s right, Beth. It is better if they’re promised to one another. That way, there’s far less chance for them to end their courtship.”
“I suppose I’ll be forced to go along with your antics.” Sighs Meg. Jo snorts, turning to pace about the room. “We’ll call it… The espousal of Amy and Teddy!” She declares, grinning ear to ear. Meg raises a brow in response. “You needn’t turn everything into a tale from those novels you read.”
Jo shrugs, sighing. “Whatever is life worth living for, if not for a bit of fun?”
—
1866, February 22nd, Amy’s birthday.
—
She could faintly recall Daisy coming to her on a sunday afternoon, begging to be thrown an extravagant birthday party. Amy smiled and stroked the girl’s head, promising to fulfil her wish. Meg and John were reluctant, but understood that they would not be able to afford to do the same. The evening was a delight, and Daisy’s smile hadn’t faltered for the rest of the week.
Suddenly she was Daisy, young and youthful and full of life. Suddenly she was Daisy with parents unable to sustain such a lavish soiree, going to her aunt and begging for her birthday to be as special as the one of a princess. Of course, the details are a bit obscured in this strange comparison. She was not Daisy, and while she was young and youthful, she lacked any and all the happiness and life Daisy Brooke had not during her pre pubescent years. She had not gone and begged aunt March for an ostentatious event in her name, but rather knew that the woman would not settle for less.
She could do nothing more than gaze upon the form of a girl long lost to time. An image she believed to be unrecoverable just around two years ago to date. Oh how she longed to be as youthful inside as she was out.
“You look beautiful.” He states, smiling with half his face, while the other hides in her hair. His arms wrap around her waist, splayed across her abdomen, and he appears as though there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than in her hold. “Though I cannot help but wonder what it is troubling you on a day such as this.” She huffs, lips twitching in poorly veiled contempt to all birthdays alike. “Daisy.” His brows raise ever so slightly, expression turning pensive. “As in… the flower?” He mumbles confusedly, earning a joyous laugh from her. “No,” She starts, voice slow and humorous. “Daisy, as in Meg and John's daughter.” He starteles, jaw dropping marginally. He huffs out a small pit of laughter, breath fanning into her neck. “Jo would be livid.” She sighs, shaking her head. “She absolutely was.”
—
It was nearing Ten Past noon, sounds of drunken giggling from a multitude of impressionable young ladies and gruff, scandalous words whispered amongst the men admiring said ladies could be heard at every corner of the overly large room meant to make every waking soul inside it feel small and inadequate. Amy was surrounded by fellow artists such as herself simply begging for insight on the genius of a little girl with such sheer talent. A loud bang interrupts any and all conversation, all heads turning in the direction of one Jo March covered in what seems to be the contents of the chocolate fountain placed in the middle of the room. “Oh, good god!” Shouts Amy, rushing to the aid of her sister along with Marmee.
Helping her stand, Amy and Marmee look for any injuries while Beth and Meg look to one another in exasperation. “Jo, what happened?!” She scolds as Aunt March’s maids move to clean the mess, looking at the girl in confusion. “Oh, Teddy and I were play-fighting, and I seem to have lost my footing, is all.” Explains Jo to a horrified Amy. She turns her head to a miffed Laurie, who simply nods his head in confuddlement. “Yeah, but, I’m not too sure how she ended up next to the fountain. We were all the way by there,” He points to the table beside the balcony. “Weren’t we, Jo?”
Jo shrugs her shoulders, unbothered. “I stumbled far, I suppose.” Amy sighs, turning to Laurie in exasperation. “Can you…” She gestures her head to the mess left on the ground. He nods in understanding, calling the staff to work while she drags Jo to an empty washroom, missing the wink the girl sends in the way of the other two March sisters, as well as the maddened expression Beth returns, and the deadpan one Meg gives.
She does her best to get the brown stains off with whatever tools she has to her aid, looking disgruntled by her sister’s behavior. “How is it that a simple stumble led you from the window to the fountain?” She questions suspiciously.
“Well, truthfully, Teddy’s words startled me a bit..” She mutters, uncharacteristically unsure. “His words? I’d assumed every word coming out his mouth resided in your mind beforehand.” Amy jokes dryly. Jo snorts, shaking her head. “Actually, they were about you.” She offhandedly remarks, looking away. “What?” Amy challenges. “We were talking of his prior failed proposal. He said he’s really quite unsure of whether you wish to be seriously courted by him. I suppose it does… make sense though, does it not? You’ve always raved of wanting a wealthy man to marry. It is suspicious of you to turn him down with no explanation.”
Now, Amy was certain that every word coming from her sister's mouth was complete rubbish.
Laurie knew very well of her reasoning. He respected her decision to hold out on marriage for a while. There was no rationalism in saying such a thing to Jo.
“Is that so?” She mumbles, brows furrowed. Jo only shrugs her shoulders once more, as if to say ‘Ask him, not me.’.
“Perhaps you ought to speak to him. I’m quite sure He’s in the gardens.” She says expectantly, ushering Amy out the room.
—
Meg and Beth were in the extensive flower field on standguard duty, watching for any sign of movement. “Theodore?” They hear a voice call out. “She’s here!” Whispers Beth, pointing her finger to Amy’s descending figure, staggering slightly at the unstable hill, dress bunched up in her palms, as to keep it from dirtying.
The girls obscure themselves further from vision behind a berry bush, nervous as a Squirrel would be in a pit of Lions. “When Jo said she’d cause a scene to get Amy out the room, I certainly wasn’t expecting her to drench herself in chocolate.” Whispers Meg, Beth nodding in turn.
“I suppose he’s not here, then.” She mumbles, brows knit together. Beth looks to the side, nodding her head at the grinning boy beside her. ‘Now.’ She mouths, watching as he moves unsuspectingly from behind the hedge. “Amy?” Smiles Fred, strutting into sight charmingly. “Fred?” She questions. “Oh, how wonderful, I hadn’t even had a chance to say hello. Apologies.” She expresses, reaching out a hand for him to kiss.
“Quite alright, that is. I held witness to the incident inside. Your sister precedes her reputation.” He jokes, earning a laugh out of her. “She’d be thoroughly honoured. Though, perhaps slightly miffed at the fact that she has a reputation.” “Whatever are you doing here, nonetheless? I’d been under the impression that tonight’s guests were hellbent on keeping you from peace.” He jokes. She exhales, frustrated. “Truthfully, Jo’s been acting rather… strange. When I’d helped her fix up, she mentioned something…peculiar. I’ve come here to speak to Theodore of it, as she said he’d be here, but,” She looks around, as if saying, ‘self explanatory’. He hums understandingly. “Shall I keep you company, then? I find a little stroll in the gardens does one well.” She agrees, desperate for some form of distraction, walking languidly alongside the hastily maturing man, -as she’d not failed to notice- engaging in light conversation, unaware of the two figures approaching.
—
Laurie’s Point Of View.
—
“Why is she out here, again?” Asks Laurie, confuddled. “She wished to speak with you, and I remembered you say you wished to take a stroll in the gardens. I simply assumed you’d be out here as well.” He hums, nodding, satisfied with her answer.
“Oh, there she is.” Declares Jo, pointing her finger ahead. “Who’s that?” Asks Laurie, face pinched. “Is it not your friend? Fred Vaughan?” Asks Jo, feigning confusion. Laurie heads his movements, staring bitterly at the two. “Perhaps we ought to leave them.” He announces, eyes narrowed.
Theodore knew very well, better than anyone, that Amy could never love another as much as she loves him. He recognized it, cherished it, and burned with it. But where love ended, effort began. Fred, as far as he could tell, held Amy high in potential matches. And, well, as much as it scorched his very soul to admit it, Fren was the easy choice. He saw, with every look she passed his way when she believed him to not notice, the hurt and grief with it.
For what else could she see but a dead husband and a long lost child? Laurie, despite it all, could never give Amy the marriage and daughter she longed for. How he wished it differently, wanted it otherwise. A little girl, said to be the spitting image of Amy herself, is all she’d ever want. It was all Laurie ever wanted, too, but want and can were two very disparate things.
Fred would be contrasting. He could give Amy peace, though not love. He could hand her a clean slate, not burdened by the anguish of loss croaking at every corner. The girl Laurie once knew wished for a man to sweep her off her feet, oftentimes, as he now realises, having been picturing Laurie himself. It was quite adorable, truely, had he not kept feeling as though he’s missed his chance. For the Amy now residing in the girl’s body no longer sought love above all else. She no longer romanticised unattainable, pure, unadulterated love.
Jo raises a brow, guising confusion. “Are you quite sure?” She asks. He nods, throat tight. “Yes, I shall speak to her later.”
With that, Laurie takes his leave, and Jo sends a triumphal wink to Meg and Beth, hiding behind the bushes still.
—
The next week, Laurie’s Point Of View.
—
Laurie sits by an oak tree, back rested upon the rough surface of its wood. The wind was gentle, delicate blows of air caressing his skin.
“Laurie?” Calls out Amy. A coward he was, having been avoiding her for the past week or so. “Here.” He replies, voice hoarse. She’s as beautiful today as she is on any other, hair formed neatly in a bun, dress encircling her in faded blue.
Her brows furrow, frustrated, before she settles down beside him, head rested on his shoulder. “Would you tell me?” She pleads, voice low. “Tell you?” He questions, looking down to her. “Confide in me.”
“There is nothing for me to confide with you about.” He answers, tone slightly chipped. She sighs. “I know every expression you possess, my Lord. I can tell that something is bothering you.”
He exhales, gazing upwards. “It’s really quite idiotic.” He mutters. She nudges him softly, encouragingly. “I saw you… in the gardens, with Fred. Jo advised me not to speak to you of it, though, and I felt that seeing you would simply cause me to spill my guts out.”
Amy hums, hands holding his forearm close to her form. “Does it… worry you?” She questions laxly. “Not so much worry, no. I suppose I’m a bit envious, though. You’ve never quite looked at me with the same ease as you do him.” He says, voice mellow. “Because you’re not easy, Theodore.” She states, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“You died in my arms, that is, was, in no way easy. But I do not need our love to be easy, so long as it exists.” She smiles, stroking his cheek with one thumb. He revels in her tender touch, lips twitching. “I suppose not. Amy sighs, looking entirely confuddled. “Jo… told you not to say anything?” She mumbles questioningly. Laurie nods, before pausing to think. “You know, I did find it strange how things played out that night.” She reminisces suspiciously.
“Yeah?” “Mhm… It was oddly convenient of Jo to pull me away, under such peculiar circumstances, long enough for your presence in the garden to make sense. Then, she led me there under the pretense that you were there as well, only for Fred to be present in your stead.” Laurie exhales thoughtfully. “It could all be a coincidence, no?”
“I’d never have suspected anything, had you not said that Jo withheld you from speaking to me of it. Was Jo aware of any ill regard you held towards Fred?” She asks, as if attempting to uncover a mystery. “Well, a few months ago, I recall you received a letter from him, entailing where he’d be the day of the banquet.” He begins, receiving a nod from her to continue. “I remember, that very afternoon, Jo and I were out by the hills, as usual, and I’d brought it up to her. Really, it was just light conversation, but my tone may have come off a bit… bitter? Yes, that’s the word. Anyhow, she might really have picked up on my resentment.” He speculates to himself, more than anything.
Suddenly, as if a switch flicks within his brain, he looks to her. “Where were Beth and Meg at that point?”
“Oh, they were sitting behind a bush in the gardens.” She states, voice monotone. “What?” He asks incredulously. “And you didn’t suspect a thing?” “No, I did suspect that Jo had put them up to weeding Aunt March’s plants in petty revenge.” She jokes, though not really joking at all. He snorts. “You really think they’d ever agree to that?” “Oh, Jo has far too many cookie and John incidents to report to Marmee for either of them to deny her.” Laurie laughs, grinning ear to ear. “Yes, she does tend to operate that way.”
“Back to the issue, though,” She stresses, causing him to sober up. “What purpose would they have to intentionally place Fred there? Is it to cause a rift between us?” She muses.
“We ought not jump to such conclusions. Truthfully, I’d been under the impression that they all perfectly accepted our courtship.” “Until now, I’d been under the impression that only Jo knew of it.” Scolds Amy, Laurie wincing at her tone of voice. “Had I not told you?” He asks, receiving a whack on the head in response. He hisses, attacking.
They roll down the mounted ground, laughing as they come to a stop. She leans down, pressing a peck to his lips of which he returns tenfold as eagerly. She giggles, pulling away. “Someone could see.” She mutters, smiling. “Let them.” He replies, flipping her on her back, groaning into her mouth. His palm moves to her outer thigh, covered by heavy fabric now soiled in grass dirt, lifting it above his hip.
“We should,” She tries, her lips caught in a kiss too soon for her to finish. “go inside.”
Well, how was he meant to say no to that?
—
“Hahhh… Oh, shite.” He groans, pate lolled back on the headboard. “Oh, your mouth’s an absolute wonder.” He mumbles, hands moving to the back of her head, fingers threading through her now loose locks. She hums around him, causing his hips to twitch. “Amy… Amy, Amy Amy…” He moans, breath heavy.
She lifts off him, tearing a whine from his chest, and settles down on the mattress as he pounces on her. He devours her very being, kissing into her mouth while nearly ripping her dress. She moans, now clad in nothing but frail undergarments, as he settles down between her legs,
His tongue latches to her core, head enveloped by her thighs. “Mm.. Oh, Theodore..” She sighs, arms splayed on the pillow below her, gripping the sheets. He moans at the taste of her, at the scent of her, at everything Amy March. He rises, capturing her swollen lips in a kiss once more, grabbing at the base of his shaft and smearing it across her opening. She gasps, wailing a deep, low cry as he pushes through the entrance. He groans at her throat, mouth agape at the overwhelming heat wrapping and pulsing around him, each nerve at his prick on overdrive.
Breathing heavily, he sets a slow, steady pace, lavishing benevolent kisses down her collarbone, hands reaching underneath to unhook her brassiere. His cock twitches inside her walls at the sight of her breasts. He wholeheartedly believes that there’s no greater view in this world, the pink buds of her nipples ripe and standing as his lips latch onto them.
It’s in seconds that his pace fastens, pounding into her like an animal, gasping in her ear. She writhes, sobbing as he hits the spot that turns her vision white. (Hearsay, obviously.) He slams against her in a cruel, rough manner, revelling at each filthy sound coming out her mouth.
Her cunt throbs around him as she finishes, his own hips stuttering before he pulls out and comes across her stomach.
—
He sat by the perched window, elbow propped on the sill, head resting on his palm. He looked to the side, smiling tenderly at the figure in his bed, her hair splayed across the pillow, back heaving softly with every breath. He was to leave with Grandfather to Florence in a week’s time. He’d have no qualms about it, had Amy been allowed to come along. Alas, despite the truth to her identity, Marmee remained blissfully unaware of just how old her daughter really was. He dipped the quill in ink once more, writing down the events of today in his brown-leathered journal. He heard the mattress shift once more, watching as she got up to her knees, humming tiredly. “Whtimeisit?” She slurred, moving to the end of the bed and getting to her feet. Laurie laughed in turn, looking down at the watch placed on his wrist.
“Eight Thirty-six. Marmee won’t be getting worried for another hour.” He muses, hands wrapping at her waist as hers rest on his shoulders. “Would it be terribly melodramatic to say I fear you might not return?” She asks, voice monotone. He sighs, positioning her to sit across his lap, rear on one of his thighs, knees bending at the end of the other. “Would it be terribly tactless of myself to say how ridiculous you sound?” He replies, smiling. She giggles, -and oh, what a sound it was. How comforting it was to know she could still find it in herself to laugh a laugh as melodic as that very laugh.- placing her head at the crook of his neck. “It would.”
—
A/N
These chapters are mostly skimmed through, if you’ve yet to notice. I had actually always intended on focusing this story on Amy and Laurie’s Married life; Their wedding, honeymoon, pregnancy and raising Bess. (Who will be born again, despite how ridiculous it may sound.)
If you felt a lack of plot in this story, it’s because it does indeed lack plot. It’s a domestic love story, but with time travel incorporated, as in my humble opinion, Amy would not have made a good match for Laurie had she stayed as immature as she was as a little girl. I also simply adore the idea of doing it over again with knowledge of the future, because while I believe in the butterfly effect wholeheartedly, knowing how the people around you grow and mature is just such an exciting concept.
By the time they’re married, the chapters will look differently.
Enjoy!
—
1866, March 8th, A world away, Laurie/Amy Point Of View.
—
Amy awoke to the sound of springs stretching and screeching, the bed beneath her shifting with each movement made by the beast above her. Wait, beast?
“Wake up, wake up! Teddy’s presents have arrived!” Shouts Jo, jumping up and down on Amy’s previously intact bed. She moans out a vicious complaint, turning to her side. “Oh, c’mon!” Insists Jo, taking Amy’s arm within her palm, dragging the withering girl to a sitting position.
She descends down the flight of stairs after a proper bath, now dressed. Her face is tight with resentment. “Still grumpy, I see. Really, you ought to stop sleeping in if you expect me to wake you up in a nicer way.” Remarks Jo with an infuriatingly smug grin. Meg sighs in disappointment, taking a bite out of her toast, tattered gift wrappings everywhere. “Must you antagonise her, Jo?” She pleads.
Amy takes her place at the table, exhaling. “I think we’re well past that question. Jo finds no greater pleasure in life than irritating me.” Jo hums, nodding. “Quite right. You’ve always been preceptive.” She says, waving her fork in Amy’s face.
Amy grabs the small box, smiling at orchid patterned paper. She opens it, eyes shining at the small, intricate, hard-covered bible. She’d mentioned being in need of a new one after her older copy was damaged in the rain. “You and Teddy are on.. Good terms, then?” She asks, feigning disinterest. Amy’s lips twitch in amusement. “Why wouldn’t we be?” Amy questions, voice laced with fake curiosity. “No reason.” Mutters Jo, looking at Meg. “But, say something had happened, has he… been active in communication?” “Oh, quite so.” She smiles. “We’ve exchanged letters, he seems rather miserable there. Apparently Grandfather refuses to get off his back about all kinds of contract deals.” She rambles on, speaking of Laurie and his travels while Meg and Jo quite obviously revise a new plan.
Amy almost felt bad, but alas, she didn’t.
—
Theodore Laurence was having a very bad day. His excitement of coming to his place of origin for the first time since boyhood was crushed to pieces in mere seconds. After arriving at the Manor, he’d expected to spend some time documenting his travels and painting with the oils Amy had picked out for him on an outing. Instead, grandfather had apparently been dissatisfied with seeing his grandson happy, and unloaded on him months of paperwork of which he was to finish by the end of their stay.
He supposed it was for the best, though. Amy had been preening him non-stop to step up and take a bigger role in the company. (Despite his complaints, her strict side had very specific effects on his bodily anatomy) Not to mention the sons of his Grandfather’s business associates wanting nothing more than to visit a brothel in a sketchy alleyway, which he was certain she would not approve of. He couldn’t tell you when she’d become the authoritative figure of their relationship, but he supposed it might have to do with the fact that she was, in actuality, nearly Thirty-Years-Old. Although, he supposed that possessing the emotional maturity of an Eight-Year-Old, (As Amy had so loudly shouted when he accidentally broke a vase chasing a squirrel with Jo.) didn’t particularly help his case.
He currently sat by the wooden lectern, face laid in his palms as he contemplated every decision he’d ever made up until that point. Suddenly, a knock rang through the study. “Come in.” He called, not bothering to look up at the figure as the door swung open. Howard Brawiling, a business associate of his Grandfathers, strode in holding a stack of papers in one hand, and a bunch of letters in the other. “These have arrived for you, Theodore.” He says, voice somehow both gruff and lighthearted.
Laurie watches him leave before hurrying to consume the materials held in the entries. He quickly rips apart the first envelope with neat writing at the top spelling the name Amy, smiling at the endearing pet name she so fancies calling him in the beginning.
–
My Lord, I hope this letter finds you well. It’s been quite dreary here without you, though Beth has certainly made things brighter with her cheery ways of getting me out of the house and away from my studies. Aunt March has secured me a spot in an academy in France, where I shall spend a year or two, before, I assume, we’d marry.
Beth, Meg, and Jo all seem exceptionally frustrated over the fact that we’d yet to fight. I do so wonder what they’re up to, but we ought not let it get to us.
Thank you for the gift, it was wonderful.
Love, Amy.
–
He reads the passage hungrily, flushing slightly at the marriage part. He’d always known that she intended to marry him as much as he had her, but hearing it -reading it- made it all more real. It was safe to say that his day progressed much quicker after that.