We've been carrying our luggage with us all day, having intended to leave for London in the morning, so we need not stop at the hotel again. We relieve ourselves and get into the carriage, with orders for the driver to take us to a boat at the channel. We hope to be at the channel in two days, where we will be swap our hired French driver for an English one. My heart will break to no longer hear the language.

Aunt March snorts in her sleep and comes awake. She is sitting opposite us.

"You", she says coldly, staring at Laurie. Suddenly, she's lucid, but seems to have forgotten or not noticed the events of the day. "Mr. Theodore Laurence. You are of your grandfather's stripe", she says. "Why are you here?"

"To help Amy take you home. You're very ill, Aunt March", he says.

"Very ill, very ill, I know I'm very ill, young man. And I am not your aunt."

"But you're wrong...", I start, but my lord husband holds up a hand. I say nothing.

"You've always been my aunt in my heart", he answers. "I am accompanying you and Amy back to Concord for Beth's memorial service."

"Oh yes, she died, didn't she? Tragic one so young. Of course, she never did have a chance, not with a mother like yours, insisting the child risk her life visiting the worst sort of white trash imaginable. The Hummels, she caught it from them, that type always carries disease. Too generous for her own good, I always said it, it would be her ruination. The end, you must do what's best for yourself."

"Aunt March!", I shout.

My lord husband holds up his hand again and swat it away, ignoring him. He can't be surprised. He says he knows me.

"I will not hear a word against Beth!", I shout, "She was good. Better than any of us."

"Of course, of course", she waves my display of temper away, irritated, "The poor child's loss is a tragedy, I understand. So why are you really coming along Mr. Laurence? Where my nieces are, you've never been far behind. Please don't tell me you intend to propose to Jo again. Her refusal of you was the only drop of common sense the child ever showed."

"I have no desire to wed Jo", he says, squeezing his eyes closed.

"Well good."

"I am already married."

It's then that she looks down at my hand and gasps.

"Amy March, you did not. After all I've done for you", she booms.

"I swore I would marry rich, Aunt March. For me, for you, for my sisters, for my parents...and I know Fred Vaughn was even wealthier than Laurie..."

"And refined and connected, and could give you the kind of life you couldn't dream of in Concord!", my aunt booms. "He was the catch of the century, child. My god, you're the dimwit your mother is."

"I have enough", Laurie starts, his voice breaking with temper, anger, and pain, "To keep my wife and her entire family. I would not have married her if I didn't. The sums we're speaking of are nothing to my family. They are inconsequential. And you will not speak to my wife in that fashion again."

He refuses holding my hand.

"Worth more than I thought", Auntie comments. "Well good, at least something will come out of this." She shakes her head at me, so disappointed. Then she snatches my hand up and looks at the ring.

It is worth more than any piece of jewelry she owns, more than all of them together. Worth a thousand times the pretty amethyst she offered me if I was a "good girl" and found a husband she approved of. It is grander than anything she could even dream of.

"Well", she says, after studying the 5-carat diamond for a moment. "No one can take issue with your taste in baubles." She drops my hand back on my lap aggressively. Jealousy is steaming off her. But soon she's back to sleep, and I have to make sure she gets her medicine. Digging in her toiletry bag, I pull out a dark bottle of medicine and use the dropper to put two drops between her lips.

"I'm sorry", I offer.

"She was never the kindest of people and now she's feeling her own mortality, she's frightened. It is not your fault, or even her own." He takes my offered hand and kisses my temple.

"You are generous, my Lord", I answer. He smirks and rolls his eyes.

"Why do I feel like I'm going to enjoy being married to you, my Lady?" he asks, and pulls me into a deep kiss.