Chapter Eleven

Amy had received the letter from Marmee late, as the missive had first traveled to Nice before being forwarded on to Vevay. Though she had been expecting its contents for months now, the news hit her with such force that she collapsed to the floor, overcome with grief.

Her dear sister was dead.

Flo had rushed to her side, embracing her wordlessly. She had held Amy as she wept, and Aunt Carrol stroked her hair, murmuring words of sympathy. That had been several days ago.

Though her aunt and cousin were kind, Amy longed for solitude. If she could not be with the people she loved the most, she wished to be alone. Flo tried her best to cheer her, but nothing could console her just now. It was a grief that must be experienced and moved through if any peace was to be found on the other side.

Since the news of Beth’s death, Amy had walked out every morning to a local park situated on the lake. The yard offered a green sanctuary shaded by trees with an excellent view of the water, and Amy sat for hours each day staring out across its wide blue expanse.

She sat there now, alone as usual, with a pile of letters in her lap. Behind her, a bed of flowers bloomed with roses, her black crepe dress standing in stark contrast to the riotous blooms of pink and yellow behind her. How she wished for Laurie to be here! But she had told him to stay with his grandfather, and she would not be so selfish as to pull him away. Nevertheless, she felt certain that, once he heard the sad news, he would come. Her dear sister had been gone almost a month now.

Tears slid down her cheeks once again. She should have gone home long ago. How would she ever bear this heartache alone? And how could she have missed the opportunity to say farewell to her beloved Beth?

She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, absentmindedly fingering the black cross she wore around her neck. Laurie had given it to her many years ago. Jo had laughed at such a serious gift, but Laurie knew her better. Amy had a solemn, serious side that her sisters did not often appreciate. Meg understood, perhaps, but Jo never would. Though they had quarreled often as children, she and Jo had come to a pleasant place of understanding as they grew older. Her sister’s letters were full of affection and came with endearing regularity. Jo’s pages overflowed with snippets of stories she was working on, tales of her life in New York as a tutor, and the everyday ups and downs of life at Orchard House. All that would change if Jo ever found out about Amy’s love for Laurie.

Amy thought that Beth might have suspected, but—as was her gentle sister’s way—she had never asked about it, unwilling to force a confidence. She should have confided in Beth. Now she would never get the chance. A fresh wave of tears overcame her, and she buried her face in her handkerchief. The loneliness of Vevay was suffocating.

She longed for Laurie with a force that shook her confidence. She had practiced for so many years! Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus on the mantra that she often repeated to herself: He does not care for you in that way. You will be respected if you cannot be loved.

But the words did not bring her comfort now. The letters from Laurie had drawn him too close to her heart. She loved him so very much but was still in ignorance of his feelings. He had never shown her more than brotherly affection.

Yet the tone of his letters had changed. He spoke to her now as an equal, not a younger sister to be teased. His words were of a man to a woman. And though they were friends as they always had been, she felt that their friendship had deepened in a way she didn’t quite understand.

Laurie—would he not come?

She looked up and gasped. He stood on the other side of the courtyard, handsome as ever, though he wore a suit of mourning. Blinking to be certain she was really seeing him, her lips formed his name, though no sound escaped them.

In a moment, she was on her feet and running toward him. The forgotten letters fluttered to the ground as she opened her arms. “Oh, Laurie! I knew you would come to me!”

The words escaped her lips without her realizing it. In a moment, she was safe in his embrace. His strong arms came around her and she rested her head on his lapel, taking in his familiar smell and the comfort that only his presence could bring.

“I came as soon as I got your letter,” he muttered against her hair.

After a long moment, she realized she was still holding onto him. She stepped back, feeling the flush on her skin. “I’m so sorry! I couldn’t help it. I was just so lonely, and I looked up and saw you, and…well…”

He took her arm in his, leading her back to the bench. She sat and watched him gather up the forgotten letters. She felt her cheeks heat again when she realized just how many of them were from him. As he sat beside her and handed her the letters, his look was almost shy. She tucked them away in her reticule and struggled to meet his gaze.

“How are you doing, my dear? Really?” His voice was gentle, and she felt tears coming on again.

“I shall be well in time.”

“I wish I could say something to comfort you for the loss of dear Beth, but I can only feel and…” Unable to finish his thought, Laurie took her hand instead, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You needn’t say anything. This comforts me.”

They sat for a moment in silence, thinking of Beth and all they had lost.

“Beth is at peace now,” Amy whispered at last. “I am so grateful you have come, Laurie. My Aunt and Flo have been very kind, but they didn’t love Beth the way we did.” She looked at him with sudden anxiety. “You need not return right away?”

“I shall stay as long as you want me, my dear.”

Something in his voice struck her heart in a way that stole her tongue. She could not trust herself to reply, so she nodded instead. Still, he said nothing, and she whispered, “I do want you. Very much.”

She chanced a look at Laurie’s face and saw something there that made her heart beat faster. He was looking at her tenderly—in a way he never had before.

The moment passed, and he said in his usual way, “Poor little soul! I am going to take care of you now. Come. It is too chilly to sit still here in the shade. Let us walk together.”

He slipped her arm through his and led her out into the sunlight. They walked along the stone walkway near the lake’s edge, admiring its beauty together.

***

Despite the grief he and Amy shared over Beth’s death, Laurie felt a peace that he had not known in many months. He was hopeful. Amy had greeted him with such open warmth, and he had not failed to notice that it was his letters she had been rereading as she sat amongst the roses.

He had watched her for some time before she had noticed him. With her black dress and blonde hair, she looked like a distressed angel, with heaven above offering her roses for her pain. The necklace he had bought her before she left for Europe adorned her neck. It was her only ornament save the black ribbon that held her hair.

She was magnificent. He had been aware of this, but now he recognized it in a new way.

They walked arm in arm along the lake, speaking little, simply content in one another’s company. Poor Amy—how terribly lonely she must have been! He did not count her cousin and aunt, for they didn’t know her the way he did. She had gone far too long without being able to be comfortable and easy with someone.

“Laurie, how is Grandfather?”

“His heart is broken. But he urged me to come here and be with you.”

“He did?” She bit her lip, and Laurie had the sudden urge to clarify himself.

“Yes. Good man that he is, he was worried for you. Of course, I had already begun packing before he suggested it.”

She seemed to relax. “Are you sure Grandfather is well?”

He smiled down at her. She was such a warm-hearted person. “Yes, dear. He will bear it on his own now—just as you have been forced to do until I arrived. He plans to spend time with the Darcys, who will do all they can to comfort and distract him. And I believe we will travel home soon.”

“Oh!” At this, she stopped walking and turned to face him. “You will? Not directly, I hope? For I cannot leave with Aunt Carrol being ill.”

Laurie’s brow pinched in concern. “Is she feeling any better at all?”

“Yes, some. But it has been a hard winter for her. The fever has well and truly passed, but she is weak and fatigued. The journey here wore her out considerably. The doctors advise her to stay until she is fully recovered. But that may be months!”

“Come home with us, then.”

The thought of going home was irresistible. However, Amy did not immediately reply. “I shall ask Aunt Carrol. She has gotten rather European in her ways of thinking. As you are old family friends, perhaps she may relent and let me go.”

They said no more about it at that time but turned and walked back to the chateau where Amy was staying.

Laurie had disembarked from the boat that brought him and had come to Amy immediately without even securing his lodging. He left her now to find accommodations, first holding her hand in his and making her promise to take tea with him that afternoon.

“Of course I will, Laurie. I’ll be waiting for you.”

As Laurie walked toward the town, he meditated on how pleasant Amy’s promise felt in his heart. He was so glad to be here with her—to be a source of strength for her once again.

Fortunately, a room was available in his favorite chateau that was not far from where Amy and the Carrols resided. Vevay was beautiful this time of year, but all Laurie could think of was his poor girl and how she must be aching for home. He would just have to convince Aunt Carrol to allow Amy to travel with him and Grandfather.

True to her word, Amy was waiting for him when he got to the little courtyard behind her hotel. He saw her peering about before she noticed him. When their eyes met, hers lit with unmistakable warmth.

Laurie thought of Mrs. Darcy’s advice. If you wish to pursue Miss Amy, then you must do so openly and honestly. Even so, would it not be poor timing to approach her now? With dear Beth so recently lost?

Amy beckoned to him, and he immediately went to her side. Once he was sitting at the little table, she gestured to the plate in front of them. “I asked for the croute au fromage. I do hope you like it.”

“Of course I do,” Laurie said with a smile. “Cheese, toast, and wine. What a marvelous combination.”

“The Swiss make delicious food.” Amy took a delicate bite of her toasted cheese. Her smile reached her eyes for a moment, which lightened Laurie’s heart to see. Only a moment later, her sadness returned. “Beth would have loved croute au fromage, don’t you think?”

It was a simple, hearty dish that gave one a homey sense of comfort. “Yes, dear. I think she would have.”

Amy sniffed and then gave herself a little shake. “It is so hard not to fall into melancholy. I’m sure Beth wouldn’t want it, but I cannot seem to help myself.”

Laurie cut a portion of the crusty bread for himself. “With a heart such as yours? Of course you cannot help it. You feel things deeply, I know.” When he looked up, Amy was staring at him. He blinked, wondering what he had said that made her look at him so seriously.

The moment passed, and she looked away, out toward the lake. They could just glimpse it from the courtyard. The old stone buildings rose up protectively around them, making the yard seem cozy despite the slight chill in the air.

“I never lost someone I truly loved before now.” She brushed a tear from her eye. Laurie desperately wished he could hold her and let her cry. The struggle to keep it all in and maintain an aura of staid serenity was a burden he remembered well.

“As you know, I have.” Laurie met her gaze. They had never spoken of his father; Laurie had avoided it, burying his pain. “My father and I were always together. After his death, I was at a loss.”

She just looked at him, her sympathetic expression urging him to continue. “I felt as if my world had ended when he died.” Memories of that awful day filled his mind. He had stayed by his father’s side until the very end. The fever had made Father delirious, but in a moment of clarity, he had taken Laurie’s hand and promised that everything would be well.

“Father promised that Grandfather would take good care of me. He told me to be happy. He…” Unable to continue, Laurie covered his eyes with his hand. The pain was too near the surface now—he could not hold back the tears.

Amy took his free hand and they sat in silence for a while, both thinking of their dear loved ones lost to this world.

“We shall see them again,” she whispered.

Laurie swallowed hard. “Grandfather did take care of me, and we have grown close over the many years since Father died. But I was very alone at first, Amy. I came to America from Europe alone. There was no one I could talk to about any of it.”

Amy just squeezed his hand. She was crying again.

“I am sorry, my dear. I did not wish to burden you with my own suffering. I simply hoped to show you that you are not alone. I loved Beth as if she’d been my own sister. This is a pain I have experienced before.”

“Thank you, Laurie. It means so much to have you here now.” She released his hand to retrieve her handkerchief, and Laurie felt the loss. All he wanted to do was hold onto her.

“I feel the same, you know. I can be myself with you.”

Her mouth parted slightly in surprise at this direct statement. “I’m glad.”

Once they finished eating, Amy wanted to rest, and Laurie promised he would visit in the morning. They had each other now and would find their way through this unbearable sadness together.