For Becky and Josie.
Counting the freckles on each other's noses
There was a knock at the door. Marilla, hands and apron covered in flour, hair pulled tightly back into its characteristic bun, called out to Davy to go and answer it. She heard him skidding down the hall and enthusiastically opening the door, and smiled. It was good to hear the sound of young feet in the house again, now that Anne was so grown up.
"Anne! It's Master Blythe here for you! He wants to take you walking in lover's lane. He wants to…"
There was the sound of a hand being placed firmly over Davy's and as Anne rounded the corner, he wriggled out of Gilbert's grasp and ran laughing into the kitchen, where he demolished two cookies before settling down to talk to Marilla.
Anne smiled at Gilbert, her eyes alight with laughter.
"He's a scamp, isn't he! So, what was it that you wanted to do?"
Gilbert took her hand and drew her close, but before he could kiss her, Davy popped his head around the kitchen door.
"Marilla!" he exclaimed in a delightedly shocked tone, "You'll never guess what Anne and Gilbert are doing!"
Marilla, who had a fairly good idea what Anne and Gilbert were doing, said seriously,
"I assume Gilbert is counting the freckles on Anne's nose. Six, I believe?" she called out to Gilbert.
"Seven!" called back Gilbert, laughing, his dark eyes dancing as he looked into Anne's.
"Shall we walk?" he whispered to Anne, one hand lingering on her waist, the other tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Let's" she agreed, stepping back into a more conventional position and placing her hand on Gilbert's arm.
Davy waved from the kitchen window as they went past, but the young couple had eyes only for each other. Marilla smiled secretly to herself, remembering something from her own girlhood… but then the moment was gone, and she went back to stirring the sauce on the aga stove.
It was nearing dusk as Anne and Gilbert stepped into lover's lane, now walking somewhat closer together in the quiet privacy of the trees.
"Lover's lane has the loveliest feeling to it, don't you think Gil? So many happy people have walked here."
"It does indeed, Anne-girl. I wonder, though, if anyone as happy as us has ever walked here before.
"I think that would have to be impossible," Anne said softly, her red hair catching the glow of sunset as she looked up at Gilbert's happy, friendly face. She thought she had never seen him look so handsome.
Gilbert looked down at Anne's upturned face, with its rosy cheeks and lips, seven-freckled nose and grey eyes, and as the golden light touched her hair, he thought he had never seen her look so beautiful.
Then again, he thought that every time he saw her.
They stopped underneath a cherry tree, the blossoms creating a carpet underfoot, and the sweet scent filling the air around them. Gilbert took both white slender hands in his own capable ones, and bent to whisper in her ear
"Shall we have another attempt at counting the freckles on each other's noses? I may have been wrong, you know."
Anne reached up and, putting her arms around Gilbert's neck, and stood up on her toes slightly as Gilbert leaned in and kissed her softly. She kissed him back, her hands holding him tighter, moving over his face, his neck, and finally entwining themselves in his hair. He laughed, and she laughed too, and then he kissed her again, more forcefully this time, one hand on her waist, drawing her still closer, the other in her beautiful red hair. He moved his kisses to her jaw-line, moving down to her neck. Suddenly, she grasped his shoulders and went still. A faint vulnerability appeared in Gilbert's eyes, as he stopped kissing her and looked into her grey – now turning to green – eyes.
"Gilbert Blythe," she exclaimed, mock outrage in her voice. He looked at her with a worried expression, not sure of this new Anne he had to cope with.
"I do believe, Gil, that I've fallen in love with you!"
Gilbert chuckled, relief evident in his face as he said, "Well, Anne, I'm glad you've finally worked it out. You know, I realised the moment you smashed that slate over my head. I thought 'I don't want a girl who will allow herself to be walked on. I want a girl who will stand up for herself and tell me off if I deserve it'. And you know what Anne? I still carry a piece of that slate around with me just to remind myself of that fact."
Anne giggled a most un-Anne-ish giggle, and threw her arms around Gilbert again, cuddling him to her.
"You know what?" she said, resting her head on his shoulder, "I still have a piece of that slate too! Here!"
She pulled up the chain around her neck and on the end of it, with a neat hole bored through it, was a piece of slate. She laughed, blushing a little.
"I meant to keep it just to remind myself of how much I hated you. But somehow, it little-by-little became a symbol of how much I love you."
They kissed again, and then Gilbert stepped back with a playful glint in his eye.
"You know Anne, I never asked you to dance at that ball, remember the one? And you looked to pretty in the puffy sleeves, too. I regret it now, of course. May I have the honour?" he said with a bow.
"I'd be delighted, young man!" said Anne back, curtseying and fluttering her eyelashes just a touch in the way she knew Gilbert couldn't resist.
He held her close as they waltzed to the music of the wind in the trees and the birds singing.
Anne looked up as a drop of rain fell on her nose. Gilbert stopped dancing and just held her as the rain began to fall more solidly. A wind came up, but neither felt cold, warm in their love and in their embrace. The rain fell more heavily, and soon Anne's dress was sopping wet, her hair plastered to her face, but her eyes bright and happy.
Gilbert almost shouted over the noise of the storm, "Anne, I've been meaning to ask you something, and now seems as good a time as any. Will you marry me?"
Anne's heart skipped a beat, as she gazed into the youthful and hopeful eyes of Gilbert. A wicked thought suddenly occurred to her.
"I will, but only if you do it properly – on one knee"
Without a second thought, Gilbert knelt on the wet and muddy ground, and took Anne's hands in his.
"Anne Cordelia Shirley. I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?"
"Yes, yes, oh yes, Gilbert!" said Anne joyfully, as Gilbert stood up and picked her up in his arms, kissing her warmly everywhere he could reach, as he walked back up lover's lane.
They ran together up the garden to the door, both dripping wet, both laughing, and both knowing that nobody else could ever have been as happy as they.