Chapter Two

Driving her little cabriolet down the street, Amy experienced a strange mixture of pleasure and homesickness. The ponies trotted blithely along on this Christmas Day, and she took delight in the fine weather and the way her blue dress matched the blue of the reins so nicely. But it was hard to be away from home on Christmas.

Suddenly, a tall young man waving his hat at her energetically caught her eye. As her gaze alighted on his tall frame, dark hair, and fine features, her heart leaped.

“Laurie!” She pulled the ponies to a stop and held out both hands to him. “Is it really you? Oh! I thought you would never come!”

“Amy dear, how good it is to see you!” Laurie took her offered hands and gave them a friendly squeeze. “I called at your hotel, but you were out.”

“Come,” Amy said, pulling her skirts to the side so he could join her in the Hansom cab. He jumped in easily and sat next to her as comfortably as if they had been at home. “How is Grandfather? When did you arrive? And where are you staying?”

He laughed at her eagerness. “He is very well. I arrived last night and am ensconced at the Chauvain.”

“Oh Laurie, it’s so good to see you!”

He smiled down at her with the warmth of one reunited with an old friend after a long absence. “And where are you off to, Mademoiselle?”

“I am going to the bank first for letters, then to Castle Hill. It’s beautiful, and I love to feed the peacocks. Have you ever been there?”

“I used to go often, years ago. A school friend of mine and I liked to feed the peacocks, too.”

“Who? Not Fred? He says he doesn’t care much for them.”

At the mention of Fred, Laurie cast her a cautious look of inquiry, which she dutifully ignored.

“Fitz Darcy. I mean to visit him after you.” He leaned back in the seat, crossing his arms behind his head. Amy took up the reins and urged the ponies into motion once more.

“You mustn’t leave too soon, Laurie,” Amy admonished seriously.

“I am here for a week at least, my dear.”

Amy clicked her tongue as if to say that this was not at all sufficient, but she let it drop. “I’m longing for letters from home. Do you have any news to share of my family?”

From the corner of her eye, Amy thought she saw his face fall, but when she turned her head toward him, his smile was firmly in place.

“Not a word, my dear, except to say that everyone was well when we left.”

She pressed her lips together at this unsatisfying reply but then remembered something. “There is a Christmas party tonight at our hotel. You’ll come, won’t you?”

“Thank you, I shall.”

“Splendid! Now tell me all about yourself. The last news I had of you was from Grandfather. He wrote that you were to be returning to him from Berlin.”

“Yes, I spent a month in Berlin. Grandfather remained in London. He has many friends there, so he stays on while I roam around. We get on capitally.”

“That sounds like a sociable arrangement,” Amy said, but her heart was troubled. Laurie seemed different somehow. Perhaps it was merely the long absence; it had been two long years since she had seen him. To think that Laurie had been in Europe for several months and had only now come to see her! It left her feeling lonely and nettled at the same time.

Laurie seemed oblivious to her reaction. “Why, you see, Grandfather hates to travel and I hate to keep still, so we each suit ourselves, and there is no trouble. And how are you enjoying Nice?”

“The river and the hills are delicious, and these glimpses of the narrow cross streets are my delight. Now we shall have to wait for that procession to pass; it’s going to the Church of St. John.”

Laurie watched the procession of priests, nuns, and brothers pass by with a listless air that bothered Amy. A new sort of shyness stole over her as she watched him, for she could not find the merry-faced boy she knew in the moody-looking man beside her. He was more handsome than ever, though she knew she had always been partial to his dark looks and fine features. But there was something new about him that she couldn’t understand. He seemed older and graver.

“Are you quite well, Laurie?”

At this inquiry, her companion shook off his pensive air and gave her a cavalier smile. “Very well. All the more so for seeing Mademoiselle.” He put his hand on his heart and gave her a bow. His admiring look, however, was disingenuous.

Amy recalled his blunt manner and easy compliments back home. Although a curious kind of discomfort filled her, she did her best to appear easy and gay.

They arrived at the bank, and Amy retrieved her precious letters from home. Laurie took the reins, allowing her time to read them. They wound up on a shady road between green hedges filled with blooming tea roses. The weather was much milder here in Nice than it would have been at home, but Amy missed the cold winter months of Concord.

The letters were troubling. Though Meg spoke mostly of her children, Daisy and Demi, and her father admonished her to keep up with her diary, her mother’s letter bore a truth that brought a tear to her eye.

Laurie looked at her sharply. “What is it? You look as if you’ve received bad news.”

“Beth is not well. Perhaps I ought to go home.”

“And what do Beth and your mother say?”

“‘Stay,’ for I shall never have another opportunity such as this.”

“I think you are right to stay. There is nothing you could do at home, and you are more of a comfort to them here, where they know you are well and happy.”

“But Laurie, what shall I do if…” She could not finish the thought but feared she would not have the opportunity to say goodbye to dear Beth should the worst happen.

“Beth knows how much you love her, dear.” He said it kindly, finally reminding her of the sweet boy she had left on the docks two years ago. Laurie had accompanied her father to see her safely aboard the ship that took her to Europe. He had hugged her close and promised to watch over her family while she was gone.

Now they had come to the ruins of the old fort. Many tame peacocks rushed to greet them in hopes of getting an easy meal. Amy did not disappoint them, fetching bread from her reticule and laughing at their antics as she cast the food wide.

They spent an hour or so in the little park before returning to the hotel. Laurie paid his respects to her aunt and then left her with the promise that he would come again that night for the Christmas party.

Amy took extra care when she dressed for the party. Though the white silk ball gown she wore was a hand-me-down, it looked well on her. She took armfuls of soft tulle and draped it over her skirts, bodice, and shoulders, giving the effect of a Christmas angel. With no jewelry suitable for the occasion, she artfully wound green vines around the shoulders of her gown and added a posy of azaleas here and there. The effect was altogether fresh and lovely.

She wore her white satin boots, which gave her great satisfaction. And her new fan matched the flowers in her hair perfectly. She was conscious of a desire to find favor in Laurie’s eyes, telling herself it was so he would tell her beloved family she was well when he wrote to them.

A small voice locked deeply away in her heart knew that not to be true.

Flo met her as she emerged from her room. “Amy, you are a vision!”

“You look beautiful, too! Look how well that new bustle suits you!” Amy felt a pang of envy as she admired Flo’s new green and white silk gown, which was done up in the latest style.

“Are you certain?” Flo angled her head to try and see the bustle. “I feel as if I might fall over backward with so much of the skirt behind me!”

“You shall do no such thing!” Amy tried and failed to suppress a laugh. “But where is Aunt Carrol?”

“Here I am, dears.” Aunt Carrol appeared, looking matronly in her old-fashioned evening gown. “Are you ready to go down?”

Amy noted her tired eyes and pale skin. “Are you sure you feel up for a celebration tonight, Aunt?”

“Of course! It is Christmas, after all.”

“We shall have a merry evening.” Flo took her mother’s arm.

“Then let us go!” Amy opened the door to their apartment and threw her arm wide with a theatrical flourish. Flo laughed gaily, and the three ladies made their way down to the merriment below.

Amy expected to find Laurie waiting for them, but she was disappointed.

“Is Mr. Laurence not here yet?” Aunt Carrol’s tone conveyed her disapproval.

“He just arrived today, Aunt. Perhaps his luggage was delayed.”

Her aunt did not reply but pressed her lips together with dissatisfaction.

“You two go on in. I shall wait for him here.”

Aunt Carrol looked as if she was about to object, but Flo cut her off. “Perfect! Don’t be too long. I am sure the count wishes to dance with you!”

Amy spent several minutes walking up and down the long hall as she watched for Laurie. At one point, she positioned herself under the chandelier, conscious that the candlelight made her hair glow in a becoming way. Then she chanced to think of Jo and how she would laugh. Shaking herself, she walked resolutely to the side of the room to wait for her friend.

***

Without a doubt, the last place Laurie wanted to be was in a ballroom full of gay, happy people. But he could not disappoint Amy.

He arrived late and expected her to be waiting near the door with a look of admonishment. But she was not. Puzzled, he surveyed the room.

He caught sight of her then—all in white, standing next to the deep red curtains. She was rather enchanting, and Laurie was properly dazzled. That he should be thinking of little Amy in such a way surprised him. Looking at her now, all he saw was an elegant young woman.

“Good evening, Diana.” He bowed with a flourish. She turned at the sound of his voice, and her welcoming smile greeted him.

“Good evening, Apollo!” Her eyes, so bright and joyful, distracted him from his purpose for a moment. Remembering, he held out a little posy.

“Here are your flowers. I arranged them myself.”

Amy took the offered posy. “How kind you are! I have admired this charming little holder in the shop window every day for a week! How did you know?”

“It seemed to fit you,” Laurie snapped the silver bracelet that held the flowers around her wrist. “It is not what it should be, but you have improved it.” Even he could hear the forced smoothness in his voice. But it was the thing in Nice to smother one’s partner with niceties.

“Please don’t!” Amy’s tone of voice startled him.

“I thought you liked that sort of thing?”

“Not from you. It doesn’t feel natural. I like your old bluntness better.” Her eyes held something of a challenge in them, and Laurie smiled.

“I’m glad of it.” He straightened to his full height for her inspection. “Is my tie straight?”

Her slim fingers came up and adjusted his bowtie slightly. “There! You are as handsome as ever.”

She smiled up at him, and the sight produced a strange tug somewhere deep in his core. Shaking off the feeling, he offered his arm, and they walked into the ballroom.

Laurie felt somehow suffocated by the gaiety surrounding them. He offended Amy almost immediately, asking her if she cared to dance in a less than enthusiastic manner.

“One usually does at a ball,” she said primly, and he grinned in spite of himself. He had always enjoyed Amy’s spunk. She was never afraid to tell him when he had stepped out of line. Somehow, her admonishments never stung the way Jo’s did.

“I meant the first dance. May I have the honor?”

“I can give you one if I put off the count. He dances divinely, but he will excuse me, as you are an old friend.”

Laurie followed her gaze to the Polish count standing amongst a throng of ladies. He was strikingly young, and Laurie wondered if he was even eighteen. “Nice little boy, but rather short.”

“How rude you are!” Amy made a dignified sniff. But then the music started, and she forgot to be offended for her friend the count.

The cotillion was rather slow and dignified for their American tastes. Nonetheless, they danced it gracefully. When the music ended, Laurie led her to the count and excused himself to dance with Flo.

For the next several hours, Laurie watched Amy dance with all the eligible men in the room. She moved with spirit and elegance, and he found he was keeping time with the music despite his melancholy.

The count seemed especially drawn to her and danced with Amy more than any other young lady. He finally relinquished her, but only because he was compelled to leave the ball early for some unknown reason.

Though Laurie thought the gentleman was foolish to let go of his prize so easily, he was happy to have Amy back to keep him company. “You seem to be enjoying yourself this evening. Come and sit, and allow me to get you some supper.”

She flashed him a satisfied smile, showing he was forgiven for his earlier slight. It wasn’t anything to do with Amy, of course. He just could not seem to shake the unsatisfied, restless feeling that followed him everywhere. But seeing her now, so full of youth and vigor, brought a smile to his lips and a warmth to his heart.

“You look like Balzac’s ‘Femme Peinte Par Elle-Meme.’” He handed her the supper plate.

“My rouge won’t come off.” Amy rubbed her brilliant cheek and showed him her white glove with a sober simplicity that made him laugh outright.

He touched a fold of her dress that had blown over his knee. “What do you call this stuff?”

“Illusion.”

“Good name for it. It’s very pretty—new thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s as old as the hills; you’ve seen it on dozens of girls, and you never found out that it’s pretty until now—stupide!”

“I’ve never seen it on you before, which accounts for the mistake, you see.”

“None of that! It is forbidden! I’d rather take coffee than compliments just now.”

Laurie laughed at her bossy tone and dutifully went to fetch a cup of coffee for her. They sat together as she refreshed herself.

“Where did you learn all this sort of thing?” he asked.

“As ‘this sort of thing’ is a rather vague expression, would you kindly explain?”

“Well—the general air, the style, the self-possession, the, the…illusion…you know.” He laughed as he waved his hand vaguely in the air.

Amy posed her head regally. “Foreign life polishes one in spite of one’s self. I study as well as I play, and as for this”she gestured to her dress—“tulle is cheap, posies to be had for nothing, and I am used to making the most out of my poor little things.”

Laurie gazed at her with satisfaction. She looked down as if regretting her frankness, but he liked her all the more for it. She charged after life with infectious enthusiasm.

Taking her wrist, he gently untethered her ball book, filling the remaining blank spaces with his own name. He replaced it with a gentle touch and momentarily became distracted by the look of pleasure that filled her expression.

Burying his gloom, at least for a moment, he decided to devote himself to making sure Amy’s Christmas was full of good cheer.