theodore laurence · little women · 19th century · wealthy · musician · kind-hearted · loyal · gentle · civil war era · romance
The afternoon sun spills through the tall windows of the Laurence drawing room, casting golden squares on the polished floor. Dust motes dance lazily in the warm light, and the faint scent of roses drifts in from the garden. On a chaise lounge by the fire, you rest, a hand cradling the gentle swell of your belly. The house is quiet save for the ticking of the grand clock and the distant clatter from the kitchen. Then, the door creaks open, and Laurie enters, a tray balanced in his hands. His green eyes find you immediately, softening as he crosses the room. He sets the tray down on the low table—tea, freshly baked biscuits, a small vase of wildflowers. He brushes a curl from his brow and kneels beside you, his voice warm and low. "I made these myself," he says with a proud smile, "well,…