Chapter 26

It was nearing noon when Anne found herself standing on a plinth in Madame Girard's dressing room, in the cottage that she used for her workshop. It sat on larger grounds that the family lived in, and the dressing room looked out on a quaint, old-fashioned garden with water fountains dotted around the place. Madame Girard had been fussing and clucking ever since Anne had stepped up to the platform, and chattered away in French to Mrs Gordon. Priscilla, Stella and Phil were waiting nearby, having had their turns earlier. There had been a wondrous moment that morning when Phil had appeared in her gown; exquisitely made, and looking more beautiful than Anne had ever seen her. She herself had swallowed back tears, but most surprisingly she saw Stella wiping away little tears surreptitiously, and came close to put an arm around her friend with an understanding smile.

After over twenty-five minutes of this, she was growing weary. The skirts were a perfect sky blue and immaculately tailored, with the finish she had always admired in Phil's clothing. It was a lovely dress, and ordinarily Anne would have been delighted in the swish of the taffeta skirt. Now, however, after sitting through everyone else's fittings in the stuffy little room, she was starting to feel mildly unwell.

As Mrs Gordon turned to her with a frown, Anne took in a deep breath and tried to pay attention.

"Anne, dear, were your measurements correct?"

Phil looked up from the lounge she had been watching from, surprised. "Yes, mother, I took them myself."

Mrs Gordon gave a little sigh. "I did say that doing this so close to exams might have made a difference. No wonder, with all of the stress you have been under. Your dress and Stella's need some alterations made, Anne; Madame Girard will bring them to the house tonight to try on again. However, it would be advantageous if the two of you could simply eat a little more for the next two days."

Anne looked up blankly at Stella. They hadn't eaten enough? With four oversized courses at every meal?

Stella frowned slightly. "So we are trying them on after the garden party?" she asked.

"Yes, after dinner, and before the dance instructor comes. We will have to be very prompt for the evening, as Mr Featherstone does not like to be kept waiting." Mrs Gordon said, consulting her little pocket journal.

Anne saw Phil give a little groan, briefly burying her face in the arm of the chair. Her eyes met Priscilla's and those of a concerned Stella, and she raised her eyebrow at them, with a little smile. They had already discussed a plan, it looked like they would now need to use it.

"Now, dear, do you think you could try eating a little more?" Mrs Gordon pleaded with the tall red-head, and Anne bit back the retort on her tongue, making herself breathe deeply. She managed a little nod.

Phil stood up at that point, coming to Anne's side. "Mother, speaking of food, we haven't stopped to eat yet this morning; do you think we could continue this after we stop for lunch?" she asked cautiously.

Mrs Gordon looked up in surprise. "Well, yes, there isn't anything more than we can do right now. I suppose it is time to head back."

On slightly shaky legs, Anne stepped down, and thankfully was led to the little ante-room to disrobe. When the voluminous dress and petticoat had been removed, she looked at herself in the mirror with a little frown. Surely she hadn't lost much weight, had she? As she dressed in the white dress with its delicate ivy pattern, she sighed. Either that, or the measurements were wrong.

A wry smile crossed her face at that point, thinking of Phil attempting to get measurements from a surprisingly ticklish Anne. She chuckled, remembering Marilla and Mrs Lynde's frustrations with her when she was younger, as she protested vainly that there was nothing she could do- you couldn't just decide to not be ticklish. It was something Gilbert had discovered quite early in their relationship, and she had blushed at the wicked grin that crossed his face in that moment.

Phil had eventually finished the measurements, but not before an involuntary reflex had acquainted her head with Anne's sharp elbow. She had been fairly good natured about it, but told Anne that she wouldn't repeat the exercise. As Anne laced her boots up again, looking with wonder at the pretty sparkling shoes that Mrs Gordon had chosen for them to wear, she gave a little grin. Madame Girard would fix it, and right now she did need food.

Back at Mount Holly, the gentlemen had arrived halfway through the elaborate luncheon. Gilbert came straight to Anne's side, with a kiss on her cheek when she handed him a plate of food. When Mrs Gordon called Phil and Jo into her father's study Anne, Stella and Priss sat down to discuss their plan.

"The garden party doesn't start till three, with guests arriving at half past two." Anne said softly. "We want to deflect the attention from Jo and Phil between now and then, to let them have a little time together alone. Phil is missing Jo terribly."

Patrick frowned. "So what do we do if they go looking for the happy couple?"

Stella took over at that point. "If we do our job right, hopefully they will get away before anyone can find them. In the meantime, we will just be as charming as we can."

Aaron pretended to stretch, an unholy grin on his face. "Just show me who to charm, and I'll charm 'em."

Stella laughed at that. "I'm holding you to that, Aaron. In the meantime, keep your smiles and compliments ready."

At a question from Priscilla, the men began to discuss their trip to the tailor, and when Phil and Jo arrived they all managed to forget the size of the room, talking as comfortably as they had at Patty's Place. Anne watched Gilbert's face as he talked and laughed with the others, her hand held tightly in his. She gave a sigh of pure happiness. This was what she had envisioned the two of them doing for Diana's wedding- Diana, who even now was preparing for the birth of their first child. Would the beloved child arrive on the shores of time before they themselves arrived home in Avonlea? A little girl with Diana's black curls, or a sturdy fellow who would follow in his father's footsteps?

The afternoon of the garden party was as lovely as if it had been made to order- brilliant blue skies, with white puffs of cloud lazily moving across the horizon. Giant marquees had been set up across the lawns, with sumptuous spreads of food and beverages being served from lace covered tables. Anne stepped out onto the veranda, her frilly green dress swishing behind her.

Gilbert met Anne at the veranda, drawing her arm through his with a huge smile. "You look like a garden fairy, sweetheart."

Anne rested her red head against his shoulder for a brief second and then smiled up at him, reaching up to stroke his strong chin. "You look wonderful too, dearest."

"Did Phil enjoy your surprise?" he asked, his face loving.

Anne beamed. "Our surprise, Gilbert. I couldn't have pulled it off alone. She had a wonderful time, and her face was glowing when she and Jo returned." She gave a little laugh, running her hand up his arm unconsciously. "Prissy and Stella kept the staff guessing their whereabouts all afternoon, Aaron sat with Mr Gordon for an hour going over the wedding ceremony- it turns out that he is a little nervous about his part in the ceremony, and was glad for his attention. Patrick kept a lookout at the front entrance-"

"And we kept Mrs Gordon occupied," he added with a grin. "I think we deserved the medal- you and I ended up with about three extra jobs apiece. She is very determined-" he said diplomatically.

Anne chuckled. "Yes. And yet she adores Phil completely. This is just one of her ways of showing it." There came a sheepish smile on her face. "Let us be thankful that neither your mother nor Marilla chooses to show their love in such a demanding form!"

Slowly the two of them walked toward the main tent, with Anne stopping to breathe in the scent of the satin-soft red roses along the pathway.

Gilbert turned to look at her with a small sigh, wishing that the pathway was longer, that he could keep her by his side for the whole day. "Where did Phil and Jo go?"

"Jo took her for a walk to the lake, and they had a blessed hour to themselves- exactly what Phil needs right now. She loved it." Anne turned to him, with a small frown. "She's looking so tired, Gil. I only wish I could shield them a little more."

He took her hand in his, studying her face. "You're doing as much as you can, Anne. All we can do is be here right now." he said practically.

As they reached the main tent, Mrs Gordon was flying around, organising the waiting staff. As she passed by, she stopped with a brief instruction to a waiter and turned to greet her daughter's maid of honour, and Jo's best man.

"Anne, you look lovely, dear. I was wondering if you would be able to settle Jonas' family this afternoon, and make sure that they know where everything is. I understand his grandmother is in a wheelchair, so if you can assist them, Gilbert, I would appreciate that. Jonas' sister is yet to arrive from Kingsport, I understand she will be bringing the baby with her." she said distractedly. She gave them a few more instructions, and then released them only to seize upon Stella and Priscilla.

Anne and Gilbert were delighted to meet Jonas' family. His parents were quiet, warm folk, with a genuine love for the bright girl who had stolen their son's heart. Gilbert saw Anne into a chair beside Mrs Blake, and amused himself by fetching drinks for the family, and professing ignorance whenever anyone asked where the bride and groom were. In the course of his duties, and relieved that Anne could be settled in the shade where he could keep an eye on her, he began to notice that the serving staff stopped at the table more often than was necessary. At first he assumed that Mrs Gordon had wished for especial care for the Blakes, however as he watched them, he realised that Anne was the one they kept approaching. When she had declined the perfect ribbon sandwiches for the third time in a row, Gilbert took her hand in his.

"Could I please ask you to excuse us for a short time; Mrs Blake, Mr Blake? I need to borrow Anne for a little wedding business for Saturday." Gilbert said smoothly, pulling a surprised Anne to her feet. She followed him past the marquee and away from the people, and down a little path fringed with newly planted birches until he stopped in a shady corner of the big garden.

"Anne, I'm just curious, why do those people keep bringing you food that you don't want?" he said, lightly. To his bewilderment, he saw her scowl.

"It's nothing, Gil."

When he merely raised one eyebrow at her, she slumped in defeat. "Mrs Gordon is chasing Stella and I with food." she admitted reluctantly.

His face gave nothing away as he looked around them carefully, and finding no one pulled her into his arms. Anne gave a little sigh, and ran gentle fingers along his lapels.

"Stella's dress and my own aren't fitting as well as they should, so she is chasing us with rich food to make us eat more so that they fit us better." When he still looked confused, she sighed in exasperation. "She says I've lost weight."

Gilbert's hand tightened on her waist. "Oh. Do you feel alright?" he asked, his tone light.

Anne huffed. "Well, of course I do. But I am still only one person, and even if I ate everything she gave me I still don't think that two days would make much difference."

Gilbert held her close then, his hand stroking up and down her back unhurriedly. When he could feel the tension lessening in her body he pulled back from her, and gave her cheek a kiss.

"Do you want me to intercept some of it?" he asked, with a grin. Anne looked relieved, partly since she had feared Mrs Gordon's worrying would concern Gilbert as well.

"Yes, please. I promise I am not not eating," she said, her tone exhausted.

Gilbert's mouth firmed in frustration, seeing the unnecessary stress that had been added. "Anne-girl, don't worry about anything. I promise that you will look like a dream in your blue dress, and I will have on the finest suit I have ever worn," he said with a robust grin. "We will enjoy this wedding together, and then we will go home- home to the place that knows us and loves us;" he said softly. "Exactly as we are."

She gave a little laugh, slipping her arms around his waist. "This is the most relaxed I've been all day, Gil. It would be lovely to just slip away together, wouldn't it?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I won't say no…" he said expectantly.

"No, dearest, I shouldn't have said that. We have duties this afternoon."

Gilbert turned her toward the path again and bent his head to kiss her nose. "Then let's go and perform them."

Back at the table, Jonas' sister Susan had arrived with her husband Jake. Jonas had proudly introduced them, and the squirming bundle that was his one-month-old nephew. Anne was delighted to be handed the baby while Gilbert fetched refreshments for the exhausted young family, and returned to a sight that made his heart skip in his chest. A grin was on his face, seeing the practised way her slim hand cupped the infant's head and the ease with which she transferred the fussing little boy to her shoulder, chatting to his sweet, brown-haired little mother about newborn sleep routines.

Jonas came up to take the cups of punch from a frozen Gilbert's hand, with an amused smile. "Getting distracted by the future, Gil?" he muttered, turning to see Anne croon to the baby. Gilbert's face was blissful, and he nodded. She would be wonderful, and so natural a mother. As her eyes sparkled, she looked over the baby's head at him with a luminous smile. He took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. It was a promise.

Later that evening, the eight adults were in the company of Mr Featherstone, a tiny man who had brought his own accompanist with him. The little man walked around correcting arms and feet, and the position of the shoulders, evidently enjoying his work. Gilbert was kindly told that he had been doing the waltz wrong for years, much to his chagrin, but he was more than consoled by the impromptu passionate embrace that Anne pulled him into when no one was looking.

While Mr Featherstone lectured Phil and the others about the correct placement of her hands, and Priscilla was led by a nervous Patrick to the side of the room to work on entering and exiting the floor, Anne and Gilbert kept practising to the music in the dimly lit room.

"I never thought to ask you this before, but who showed you how to dance, Anne?" Gilbert asked as they swayed to the lilting melody.

Anne looked up with a puzzled look. "I suppose the girls did, first. Diana, and Jane and Ruby." Anne smiled. "Ruby would set up miniature balls for us to practice at in her back yard, including lessons on how to talk to a gentleman."

Gilbert swung her in a circle, making her laugh. "And just what did you learn, Miss Shirley?"

Her look was mischievous, as she batted her eyelashes at him becomingly. She then pressed herself tighter into his arms, in a way that made her fiance start at the warmth of her chest on his. Her breath was in his ear, as she whispered- "She taught us how to do this, dearest. Tell me, does it work?"

It was at this point that he began to laugh even harder at the smug expression on Anne's face. "It's- it's very distracting," was all he could trust himself to say, his smile enormous. "I had no idea that was what you girls used to talk about."

Anne shrugged with a little smile. "Oh, I think all girls do," she said thoughtfully. "Phil showed us a dance or two shortly after we all moved into the house together, and then Roy was quite a good instructor with some of the newer dances."

Gilbert gave a short laugh. "Well, then we are heavily indebted to others. My mother taught me when I was about fifteen and made me practice incessantly with my cousins. Ruby taught me a dance or two while we were at Queens- nothing so exciting as what she taught you, it seems, and Christine tried to get me to perform better too, and to practice. She didn't think I was that good at all."

He had been sharing absently and turned back when an indignant Anne stopped cold, her eyes flaming.

"How dare she?" she spat, making Gilbert laugh. "Of all of the inconsiderate, selfish and shallow beings that have walked this earth-"

He chuckled, loving the protective way she responded. "It's all right Anne; after all, I wasn't raised the way she was. And thank heavens for that," he said philosophically. "Like Phil, she would have been taught by a master."

"But it isn't true. You dance beautifully, Gil; everyone says so," she said, looking at him with a reproachful look. "You are gentlemanly and strong, and you lead so confidently- you make ladies feel safe when you dance with them."

He smiled, holding her close. "That might just be with you, sweetheart. You're the other half of me, remember. Although I did wonder if I performed more poorly back then because I was always watching you with Roy." he said honestly.

"And I was usually watching you." Anne sighed and turned to him then with a cross look. "And I saw nothing wrong with your performance, whatsoever."

Forgetting the rest of the room Gilbert snatched her close then, with a low laugh.

"Well, now I'm where I'm where I'm supposed to be. And it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks."

Aaron's voice finally penetrated the little world they were in, making Anne pull away with some confusion.

"Well, what do you think, Patrick? Don't you think they are a little too close for this type of dancing?" Aaron asked, his face as innocent as a baby's.

Patrick expertly twirled Priscilla under his arm, and cheerfully agreed, with a grin. Gilbert held Anne close to him smugly until he heard the dance instructor clapping his hands to gain their attention. He solemnly congratulating the group on their efforts, and most especially Jonas, who had successfully mastered the wedding waltz. Phil beamed, holding on to his arm proudly. When the eight of them were alone, Phil looked around at the group with a bright look.

"Would anyone like tea?" she asked suddenly.

When the consensus was yes, Phil led them all into a narrow hallway that opened out into the biggest kitchen Anne had ever seen. She had a kind word for the housekeeper and the cook, who were talking over a cup of tea regarding the rehearsal dinner for the following evening. The two of them moved into the staff room to continue their conversation with loving smiles after the cook admonished Miss Phil to clean up after herself this time. Phil only laughed and kissed her cheek, and got Stella to pull out the tea cups. From the stools around the bench in the centre of the big room, Anne watched Phil with a tender smile. She moved with capability; and far from the will-o-the-wisp girl she had met four years ago, Anne now saw the wife and mother and homemaker that she would be for Jonas and their family. She pulled a tin of cookies from the pantry to go with their tea, talking merrily all the while. After a hurried trip in to see the cook, an iced cake was produced to complete their repast.

With a contented look on her face, Anne turned to watch Gilbert, who along with Aaron was tormenting Phil about turning domestic after four years of wrestling with the academic world. Much freer in the presence of their friends, Jonas gave her a supportive kiss on the cheek, telling her that he loved her for both of those things. Anne thought happily of the times she would spend with them on her visits to Kingsport, of the joy of seeing them in their home on Patterson Street in the future- perhaps one day, with darling little curly haired babies of their own to cuddle at the same time.

There was a small falter in her thoughts then as she studied Gilbert. He would have three more years yet in student accommodation- bland meals and stained wallpaper, shared bathrooms and musty smells. Of going to bed each night alone, with the knowledge of how far she would be from him. Anne closed her eyes in pain. She wanted to take care of him now- to look after his wellbeing, to be there when times were rough. She wanted to be the one helping him to unwind, to draw him out of the worries that would intrude when he was once more at work. To comfort and demonstrate her love through more than words- even the most powerful words could not enfold, could not physically touch him. It was with an effort that she remembered her own work- the Summerside High School that was waiting for its principal, and the bonus of three last years to be closer to Marilla, close enough to visit home often.

She smiled then. Gilbert and she had spent some time talking with the medical students who had sourced the stethoscope for her; cheerful, pragmatic fellows who spoke of long days, sleepless nights, and corpses that refused to do anyone's bidding in dissection classes. Gilbert had only laughed- his own discussions with Dr Edmonds and his interns had revealed that much already. Oddly enough, understanding how busy he would be in the years to come had brought Anne a measure of peace. Gilbert was keen for the challenge, and he would throw himself into the work wholeheartedly. She could only hope the three years would pass as quickly for her.

As Phil placed a steaming cup in front of her, she thought with a little smile of all she would have to do in the coming years- a hope chest would need to be filled, linens of all kinds would need to be made and embroidered- tablecloths and napkins, kitchen cloths and cushions. The stitches Marilla had laboured hard to teach her would decorate her home: a beaded stitch for her napkins, a basket stitch for the kitchen linens. Crocheted lace for pillowslips, and delicate, time-consuming lace for items of a more personal nature. Her cheeks were a rosy pink as she sipped the perfectly brewed tea from the blooming rose teacup in her hand, with a little sigh.

Gilbert was the only one to hear her exhalation and looked across to see his fiancee with a smile and an adorable blush on her cheeks. Leaning in close to speak with her privately, his hazel eyes studied her with a slight smile. "What on earth is making you blush like that, sweetheart? Certainly not church economics."

Anne put a hand to her heating cheek, hearing the others involved in a deep discussion. She smiled sheepishly, seeing Priss seriously discussing the financial needs of a church, no doubt from her own experiences as a minister's daughter. She looked back at Gilbert with an unusually shy look that intrigued him.

Turning so as to not be overheard, Anne gave him a depreciating look. "I was thinking about the work I need to do in the next few years."

Gilbert gave a soft chuckle. "I don't think so, sweetheart. Teaching does not make you look like that."

Her cheeks flamed again, and she laughed. "I meant work of a more personal nature. I have a lot of sewing to do in the next few years."

He pulled a face. "You don't like sewing, Anne."

"Oh, I think this sewing will keep me very well occupied," she said, dryly. "As far from you as I will be, I will have the constant reminder that we are preparing for a home together."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow at her. "Hmm. Yes, I see that. But I don't see why tablecloths should make you blush." His look was cheeky, and she blushed again. There was a twinkle in her eyes then, as she raised them to his.

"Well, if you must know, I was thinking about making sheets."

The effect on him was immediate, and as he caught his breath, he marvelled yet again at the girl who would be his wife. He was the tease, and yet every time Anne Shirley would prove how evenly she could match him. His eyes seemed to burn into her, as he spoke.

"Will you think of me when you work on them?" he asked in a low voice.

Her look was tender. "Gilbert, I won't ever be able to think of anything else."

The kitchen echoed with the quiet laughter and chatter of the group, as Phil and Jo relaxed with those who were closest to them. Both those whose dreams would come true in a little over a day and those who would work toward the fulfilment of them as the years would go by. And while Gilbert and Anne joined in the conversation smoothly a few minutes later, Gilbert's tight clasp on her hand was the confirmation of a promise- of working, of dreaming, and a future together. A life where practical and mundane work would take on new meaning and passion, the outworking of a love that would see them safely through whatever tomorrow would bring.