DISCLAIMER: I don't own Amy but I DO own the new guy! (Although I'd rather own Laurie "sigh" why must he be so cute?)
Chapter 29
AMY'S JOURNAL
Dear Diary,
Who would ever believe the world to be so vast? I have been to so many countries and so many places, I feel I shall be overwhelmed from the sight of it all! England with their charming citizens, pretty accents, and quaint clothing, Germany with their rough deep language and serious yet interesting folk, Holland's cheerful and kind people, Scotland's wild and beautiful countryside, beautiful Rome, and the lovely France, where I now reside.
I know each of my family members would have a different place to their liking: Marmee for the exotic Rome, Father for the raucous Germany, sociable and quaint Meg for England, Kind and affectionate Beth for Holland, and wild Jo for Scotland. But I believe I shall always favor France. I just can't seem to stop myself awing over the people and their "a la mode" clothing and styles so unlike the modest clothing of New England for which has always been too drab for my fashionable taste.
I have decided to take up painting again while I am here. Everything is too beautiful to resist trying to capture on an easel!
Well I must get to bed. I need my rest for I intend to go early tomorrow and find a nice painting spot. (Not to say lack of sleep gives me such unsightly circles as to look a horrid thing compared to the smooth fair complexions of the French. Goodnight my dear journal, I bid you adieu.
Dear Diary,
Today I woke up early and ate a delicious breakfast of buttered baguette with honey, hot chocolate, and little quail eggs. I would never have had such a breakfast at home. I feel so pampered!
I started out to look for the perfect painting spot.
It was a lovely day and while on my quest to find the painting spot, guess who I happened to bump into?
Fred Vaughn! Can you believe it? I couldn't myself at first. It had been more than 4 years since I had seen the lad and he was indeed a dashing fellow. I also found that he is very wealthy which suites my taste perfectly. I say this because I do believe he has taken a fancy to me. Or rather, has begun to in any case. He asked me to join him for a carriage ride and luncheon tomorrow. I didn't refuse.
I am sad to say I could not find a perfect painting spot today. Suitable, perhaps but not perfect. I shall continue my pursuit day after morrow. (I can't very well go browsing about while on with Fred! He'd think me so unladylike and queer). So I shall have to continue my quest at a later point.
Dear Diary,
I had a capital time with Fred. He is a very nice and comfortable character to be with and we had a pleasant time. True, there were some moments that felt slightly...long. But overall things went well. He has also asked to take me to the Opera House in Paris sometime. Oh how I am excited! My first opera! I used to be so jealous of Jo and Meg and Laurie going to the opera. Makes me remember the time I burned all of Jo's books out of envy. What a horrid little brat I was. I probably should have let Jo beat me for that. But I guess a near occurrence drowning was punishment enough. I laugh because that is just the sort of thing Jo would say! I never could be so full of humor as she. I needn't worry so if I was as kind tempered as dear Bethy, or good natured as Meg, or even as patient as Marmee dear. But sadly all I have to rely upon are my looks and airs.
Oh what am I going off about? I was about to tell of my discovery. Yes, it was while I was in the carriage looking about, and there it was: my perfect painting spot! I dare not shout it out but I did so wish to. I will make haste tomorrow and secure the location. I cannot wait to begin painting in my new place.
Dear Diary,
I was in great haste to get through breakfast this morning so that I might go out at once to find my "Peinture Evasion" but not as to be impolite to my dear Aunt I sat through the meal then left in a quick yet graceful manner, taking with me my easel and painting things.
My little endroit was in a lovely, grassy garden filled with all sorts of flowers. There was a tree in particular that not only was shady and beautiful but I could actually picture myself painting under - alone and content.
When I entered the garden I was distraught and aghast to see that not only was my little paradisiacal island invaded, but the invader also happened to be under my tree!
I was furious of course but considering my ample amount of graciousness did not show it. Instead I walked up to the figure, smiled my sweetest smile and said "Dear sir, would it be forward of me to ask you to please move? Only if it is convenient of course."
The man's head came slowly up. He looked to be about 20 or so years old, and had thick, partially messy auburn locks atop a heart-shaped face. He had a light goatee. The man was not handsome persay, but had an interesting look about him.
"Excuse me?" he said with a slight English accent, lowering the book he had been reading before my interruption.
"The tree of which you are currently sitting under. I need it for my artistic use." I said patiently.
The man's blue eyes flashed with amusement. "Artistic use? Is that so?" he said, eyebrows arched.
I did not care for the amused tone in which he spoke to me. It only irritated me further. But I was above him. I plastered the smile on my face and said as one would say to a slow child "Yes, I need this tree. As an artist, I need space for inspiration."
Now the look upon the man's face was that of question. "Could you not receive your inspiration at another tree, mademoiselle?"
I was at that moment very tempted to roll my eyes. But such an action would pronounce me as being very unladylike and immature. "No." I replied simply.
The man considered me for a small while. Eventually he said, "Well it seems neither of us is willing to leave this tree be, nor this quarrel. So let us see if we might try and share the tree." he said.
I thought on this. On the one hand I could argue in a very uncomely and childish manner until this man gave me my desired post. But on the other hand I could try to share this tree with him, bothersome as he was.
"Alright," I paused "But in this may I choose which side of the tree?"
I had never seen a being raise the eyebrows so. They almost seemed to disappear into his thick auburn waves. "Whatever aids your inspiration, madam."
"Then I shall have your side, sir." I said.
"Of course." he said, trying to hide a rouge smile, and scooted to the other side of the tree.
I sat down, spreading my skirts and setting up my things. "I thank you for your cooperation, Mr...?"
"Alrick. Alrick Wesley. And may I ask who you might be?"
"Amy March."
"Nice to meet your acquaintance, Ms. March."
"And yours, Mr. Wesley."
And so I went about my sketching, and he to his book. But after awhile I could not help but notice the book in which he was so thoroughly engrossed.
"Why I am sorry Mr. Wesley - "
"Please, call me Alrick. I'm not one for formalities." he interrupted.
"If you will, Mr. Wesley, I am one for formalities." I said brusquely.
He half-smiled on this. "I did not mean to question your manner. Call me what you wish. You were saying?"
"I noticed you are reading 'Midsummer Night's Dream'."
"Yes. I do love the story and the play. Bit of a romantic - can't help myself. Have you seen it perchance?"
"Well...sort of."
"Sort of? Would you tell me what you mean by that?"
I fiddled with the lace on my dress.
"Well...you see...my sisters and I...used to put on little silly plays and things. We were very little." I added hastily. I could feel the warm flush on my face. I did not dare to look into his face. But to my surprise, his reaction was contrary to my thinking.
"Well that sounds rather enjoyable! I wish I had siblings of mine own to do that sort of thing with."
I looked up at him then. "You mean you're an only child? Why I'll bet you enjoyed that rather a lot. Not having to share all of your things and the like."
At this Alrick wrinkled his nose. "I absolutely hated it. My parents - bless their souls - were always working to keep the food on the table and I never had a soul to play with. Horrid boring childhood." He shook his head, as if shaking off the sad memories. "Tell me about your family."
"Are you sure you want to hear about my family? You might find it quite tedious conversation." I said.
"Yes. Please do." said Alrick. He closed his book and looked at me with interested eyes. I had a feeling it was a common look to him.
"Well...my father is very gentle, and wonderful sense of humor. Marmee - our mother that is - is extremely patient. No one can say she isn't when you consider her raising 4 girls."
"Only girls? Hmm." Interrupted Alrick.
"Yes." I said, only slightly annoyed (I didn't care to be interrupted). But I continued. "Then there's Meg: beautiful, kind, caring, as well as romantic. She has a set of twins and loving husband (John). Second to oldest is wild, vivacious Jo - good at heart but quite the tomboy. She is near 20 years old and has still not learned to behave properly."
Alrick chuckled softly on this.
I gave him a sharp look, "Propriety is very important and not to be laughted at Mr. Wesley." I said.
"Of course" Alrick replied, taking on a serious expression. But I could see the glimmer behind his eyes, which led me to believe that he did not, in fact, think propriety was of extreme importance. But being the generous soul I was, I let it go.
"And last but certainly not least is my dear sister Beth. She is 17 and thus only but a year above me, but I think the maturest of us all. The sweetest being you will ever meet in your life. Bless her soul."
"Your family sounds positively delightful." said Alrick.
"Well I can't go on about my life without letting you have a say." I said fairly.
"Not much to say." said Alrick, plucking at a piece of grass. But he continued nonetheless, "I've grown up poor all of my life, but my parents were determined I get the proper education, so they saved every penny to send me here to study."
"You go to the university? What are you studying?"
"I hope to be a professor someday. Doesn't matter what kind exactly - Language or History preferably. Not the best at math I'm afraid."
"It's not much of a pay." I said.
"True but I've never wanted to chase after wealth. I've been poor all my days thus far, I see no reason why I can't manage to live poor the rest."
This stung me a little, as wealth was what I had sought after. But I had perfectly good reason to do so and if this man had a different opinion, I should not care.
Alrick glanced at his watch and gave a half-sigh. "I'd best be going I suppose. Perhaps I shall see you again, Ms. March?" he said, standing and brushing off his trousers before offering his hand.
"Perhaps." I said with a smile, shaking his hand. He smiled back, and headed out of the garden, his tousled auburn hair glinting in the sunlight.
Then I remembered my painting