A/N: Hi friends, I did not anticipate this long of a gap between my chapters. I don't know if it was the pandemic or not, but I rather lost interest in writing. I wrote a little here and a little there, but did not feel motivated. Honestly, I still don't! It isn't really writer's block, just a reflection of the disquiet that has permeated my life, probably due to the state of things. But this chapter has finally been finished. I am a bit more motivated (cross your fingers!) for the next chapter, since it will be a Christmas one, and I'd like to have that out in time for the holiday. So here's to writing in fits and starts and finally having something to show for it. It is nice, really, to step out of my own life, and into Gilbert and Anne's during this - ahem - lovely time in their lives (fans self). Prepare yourself for a VERY intimate chapter. You have been warned (wink). Wishing you well and safe during these difficult times!
Gilbert awoke slowly from a deep and restorative slumber. Pale, wintery light came through the frosted window, illuminating the vivid red hair splashed upon the pillows beside him. Anne slept in his arms, nestled beneath the covers so much so that only her brow was visible. It was warm and toasty in the bed together, but a sharp chill permeated the air in the little room. The fires lit by Aunt Katherine and Doctor Dave the night before had long since burned out, leaving the house frigid.
Gilbert held still, gazing at his bride, nearly doubting his eyes. Their legs were tangled together, their naked bodies pressed close against one another. Gilbert bent to press a kiss to Anne's freckled brow, and she stretched sleepily under the covers. She pulled the quilt away from her face, blinking sleepily at him.
"I'm sorry, love," he whispered, smiling. "I didn't mean to wake you."
She stretched luxuriously. "I don't mind. I've never been woken by you."
Gilbert chuckled. "Likely to be the first of many times."
"A lifetime's worth," said Anne, kissing him. She hooked her leg over his hip, sending Gilbert's heart into a rapid tempo. He caressed her slender waist. They kissed languidly, unhurried, within their warm cocoon.
"What time is it?" murmured Anne, long moments later.
"Hmm? The time?" Gilbert said vaguely.
Anne laughed. "What will people say if we miss church?"
"Church?" asked Gilbert, marshalling his thoughts. He recalled the pocket-watch, somewhere in the folds of his suit coat on the bedroom floor. He had not yet fixed the time. He peered at the window to assess the time of day. "I had better check the mantel clock."
"Oh," said Anne. "I suppose we must get up."
"Must we?" asked Gilbert, pressing Anne into the featherbed and kissing her.
Anne giggled and stretched beneath him. Gilbert rolled to his side and held her close, burying his face into her red hair.
"Are you alright?" Gilbert murmured near her ear. "You know, after… "
"Our lovemaking?" Anne prompted.
Gilbert beamed, but then nodded earnestly. "I just want to be certain that you are well."
Anne nodded. "I am. Although - "
Gilbert's brow contracted with worry.
Anne squeezed his arm reassuringly. "Although I would like a wash, if that's possible."
"Of course, sweetheart," he said, relieved. "You relax here. I'll heat some water downstairs. I need to go tend to the livestock anyway."
"Thank you," said Anne softly, her eyes at their greenest.
Gilbert rose from the bed, his skin gooseflesh in the chilly air. Anne watched as he quickly donned warm, simple work clothes. He picked up the suit and wedding dress, but at Anne's insistence, he just laid them neatly at the end of the bed. Pragmatically, he informed his new bride of the his-and-her chamber pots beneath the bed, while Anne blushed. Gilbert hid a smile at Anne's hot face, then, with a quick kiss, he hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he kindled and lit the stove's fire. The water barrel was full, and he carefully scooped pitcherfuls of water into the largest soup pot. As that heated, he went to the parlor to build a fire in the fireplace. He chose a taper from the box on the mantel and caught sight of the old clock. His eyebrows rose.
"Anne?" he called out hesitantly.
A distant affirmation reached his ears. Gilbert set down the unlit taper and ran up the stairs three at a time.
"Yes?" said Anne, when he entered the bedroom. She stood before the window, wrapped in the quilt.
"Unfortunately, church is almost over," he said, rubbing the back of his neck ruefully.
Anne laughed. "Oh, dear."
He walked over to Anne and embraced her. "It's almost ten."
"Goodness," said Anne. "I suppose we'll never hear the end of it."
"Probably not," said Gilbert and kissed her. Reluctantly, he stepped away. "The poor animals. I best go see to them."
"Of course," said Anne. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Just stay here," Gilbert encouraged. "The water is heating downstairs. I'll be back in 'two shakes of a lamb's tail.'"
He hastened back down the stairs and put on his coat, gloves, and scarf. Slipping on his work boots, he went outside into the cold. Grey clouds blanketed the sky, and the snow upon the land had hardened and become icy. Gilbert carefully picked his way across the frozen ground, availing himself of the outhouse before heading to the livestock. He washed up with icy water at the pump and checked that the pump was still wrapped thickly with an assortment of rags to keep it insulated. The water bucket was missing, and Gilbert glanced around to see where it might have rolled away to. In the barnyard, he noticed snowshoe tracks. Concerned, he hurried to the barn doors. The tracks went right into the barn. Gilbert threw open the doors, alarmed, only to be met by curious looks from the cows inside. The cows munched hay contentedly in their stalls, while chickens pecked about. Gilbert quickly counted the cows and chickens, and none were missing. The animals had been fed, and the milch cows did not need to be milked. It was then that he noticed the note tacked to one of the stall posts with his name written in a familiar scrawl.
Gilbert,
Congratulations! Enjoy your honeymoon. We'll see to your chores for now. The milk and eggs are on the tackroom shelf.
Love,
Uncle George, Aunt Kitty, and your Mother
Touched, Gilbert pocketed the note. The livestock had been well cared for while he had been a lie-abed with Anne, and he had been so deeply asleep that he had not even realized his family had come. That explained the missing water bucket, which he recovered. A pail of milk and a basket of eggs awaited him in the tackroom, and he carefully carried them back to the house.
The water was bubbling in the soup pot, and he hurriedly set down the eggs and milk to fetch the wash basin. He was about to carry it upstairs, when he nearly ran into Anne. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing a nightdress over which a dressing gown was wrapped.
"I'll wash in here, darling," she said. "It's just us, isn't it? And it's rather chilly upstairs."
Gilbert set down the tub and kissed her. "Are you certain?"
"Unless you mind?" asked Anne, arching an eyebrow.
Gilbert laughed. "Hardly." This had to be some sort of fantasy he had yet to envision.
Anne helped fill the basin, scooping pitcherfuls from the barrel to temper the heated water. When it was halfway filled, she pulled a muslin bag from her pocket and emptied its contents into the bath. An aroma of lavender permeated the air. Gilbert watched as she stirred the water with her finger, soaking the dried sprigs of lavender and testing the water's temperature. Satisfied, she disrobed, and Gilbert's jaw dropped.
It was no ordinary nightgown that she had on. It was made of a sheer, light cotton that revealed every dip and curve. Red, embroidered flowers trailed along the edge. Anne smiled knowingly at Gilbert, and he snapped his mouth shut.
"I had intended to wear this for you last night, but that got forgotten somehow," she said.
*Somehow," said Gilbert with a grin.
Anne smiled, and Gilbert roused himself from his thoughts. "My apologies, Anne-girl," he said. "I'll give you your privacy."
"I'd rather you didn't," said Anne. "Are not all things known between us now? Or at least I would like that to be our way."
Gilbert paused at the doorway. "I would like that, too." He came back into the kitchen and stood there shyly, fiddling with his hands.
Anne unbuttoned the night dress and stepped out of it. Setting it on the back of the chair, she carefully got into the tub and sank down into the hot water with a contented sigh. She ached and throbbed in places she never had before, and the bath water soothed it all away. Relieved she laid back her head and relaxed her sore muscles.
Gilbert watched and tried not to watch. He sat at the kitchen table and looked for something to do. A large picnic basket sat on the table, brought in by his Aunt Katherine and Uncle Dave the evening before, heaped with leftovers from the wedding feast. Finally recognizing how ravenous he was, he lifted the basket's lid and began to set out the food within.
"My family took care of the livestock along with gathering the eggs and doing the milking," said Gilbert. "They left a note telling us to just enjoy our honeymoon."
"How wonderful of them!" said Anne from the bath.
"Would you like anything to eat, sweetheart?" asked Gilbert.
"I'm famished," she replied ardently.
"Here," said Gilbert, holding out a forkful of mince pie to Anne.
"I feel like the Queen of Sheba," laughed Anne.
"Well, we must enjoy our honeymoon," said Gilbert loftily, grinning. "And don't you mean Bath-sheba?"
Anne accepted the bite of mince pie, and then flicked a bit of water at Gilbert. "Oh, you know very well what I mean," she groused.
Gilbert laughed, dodging another splash. Anne allowed him to continue feeding her forkfuls of the leftover feast while she bathed, and Gilbert revelled in the intimacy of their conduct. By the time Anne rose from the bath, the shyness had dissipated, and Gilbert shamelessly helped dry his bride. The kitchen was cozy and warm with tendrils of steam rising from the bath. The newlyweds, wrapped up within each other's arms, kissed and teased one another. Eventually, loath to waste the hot bathwater, Gilbert undressed and got in. He was startled but pleased when Anne began to scrub his shoulders.
"I've always wanted to do this," said Anne. "You have the loveliest broad shoulders."
Gilbert smiled, nearly preening. His senses then homed in on Anne's hand as it moved down his abdomen.
"Is this fine?" asked Anne, pausing.
"Very," said Gilbert.
Anne giggled, her hand moving further down. With some shyness and much curiosity, she caressed and learned the contours of his body. Gilbert, observing and enjoying every sensation, leaned back against the rim of the wash tub.
"So fascinating," Anne murmured. "Your body is so different from a woman's."
Gilbert laughed, then inhaled sharply as her hand dipped lower and wrapped around his cock.
"Are all men like this?" Anne asked curiously.
Gilbert was in no position to concentrate on a conversation. He managed to shrug.
Anne frowned. "Well, are they?" she pressed. Most disconcertingly, she had begun tracing her fingers along his length, up to the tip and then down again. "Gil?"
"No," squeaked Gilbert. He cleared his throat.
"I suppose that makes sense," mused Anne. "All people are unique, aren't they? It would stand to reason that an especially handsome man would have an especially handsome… " She paused for a moment and cocked her head. "What do you call it? Its Latin name?"
If he had not been so aroused, Gilbert would have blushed. "Manhood is fine."
Anne smiled. Her hand tentatively grasped him, and Gilbert's eyes glazed over.
"Oh Anne," he groaned.
Stifling giggles, Anne began to gently stroke him beneath the water. Gilbert's breathing quickened, and he closed his eyes. When he could scarcely bear it, he grasped her hand.
"Let's go upstairs," he said hoarsely.
Anne laughed as he rapidly dried himself, then yelped as he caught her up in his arms.
"Vixen," he growled in her ear, and, stark naked, he rushed her up the stairs.
In their bedroom, he tossed her upon the bed. Anne laughed as he pressed her down into the mattress, kissing every bit of her skin available to him. Her nightgown was thrown aside, and with a grown of longing, Gilbert settled between her legs.
"Would you like to?" he asked with a strained voice, his manhood hovering at her entrance.
"Yes," she nodded, laid back upon the pillows, her damp hair mussed in a way that had Gilbert lightheaded with want.
Unable to hide his sense of relief, Gilbert gently pushed himself inside her and groaned. Anne smothered a laugh and wrapped her limbs around him. With great care, Gilbert sheathed himself then stilled, allowing Anne to adjust. She kissed him, and Gilbert enfolded her in his arms.
"I love you," she whispered against his lips. "I'm alright."
Encouraged, Gilbert began to move in slow, tentative strokes, his lips still upon Anne's. Despite his lust and longing to thrust into her with vigor and abandon, Gilbert withheld himself, and was all tenderness. Gently he made love to her, the strain of withholding adding its own headiness of passion. Anne threw back her head, her lovely throat bared to Gilbert's heated kisses, as tantalizing sensations overcame her. Her legs gripped Gilbert, and she gasped with pleasure. Gilbert paused, concerned.
Anne moaned, "More, darling, don't stop."
Surprised, but thrilled, Gilbert increased the pace with short, shallow strokes that had Anne writhing beneath him. She lifted her hips, and Gilbert sank deeper with a groan.
"Oh, Anne." He kissed her firmly, thrusting deep. Groaning, he thrust long and slowly within her. Anne gripped him tightly, her body taut, and she moaned. Then, suddenly boneless, she lay back upon the pillows, breathing hard. The sight of her had Gilbert struggling to maintain his own composure, and with a shout, he pressed himself deep and collapsed beside her. Clutching her close, he kissed her cheeks, and eyelashes, and lips. Anne smiled then laughed.
"Are you alright?" Gilbert queried breathlessly.
"More than alright," she assured him with a kiss.
He nuzzled her nose with his. "I'm afraid we have undone the effects of the bath."
"Oh, but it was worth it," Anne murmured.
Gilbert agreed, but insisted on fetching a pitcher of warm water and wash cloths. Gently, he tended to his bride who watched him with loving eyes. Then he climbed into bed with her and held her close.
Sometime later, they descended the stairs. Gilbert emptied the bath water as Anne set a kettle on the stove to make tea.
"Let's build a fire in the parlor and have our tea in there," suggested Gilbert, as he came back in.
Anne agreed, and they spent a delightful afternoon lolling on a makeshift bed of cushions and blankets before a cheery fire. The glory of Venice or the majesty of Athens was a far cry from the simple honeymoon occurring in an old farmhouse on a snowy, rural island, but the happiness of the newlyweds outshone any grandeur that wealth could supply. It was enough just to be together in their own home, with their visions, their caresses, and their silences.
Blissfully content, Gilbert lay with his head in Anne's lap, playing with the ends of her hair. A gentle snowfall began, soft snowflakes floating in the darkness beyond the frosted windows. A nearby trio in snowshoes was undeterred by the falling snow as they made their way toward the Blythe barn. The bride and groom, very much taking to heart instructions to enjoy their honeymoon, did not hear the lively chatter of their family as they arrived and tended to the livestock.
After she had set another pail of milk on the tackroom shelf and returned to the barnyard, Edie paused for a moment, gazing at the farmhouse where she had once been a girlish bride. Behind her, George secured the barn door and Kitty double-knotted the ties on her snowshoes. A warm glow of light shone from within the house, and Edie looked wistfully at the snowswept home, knowing the love and joy just beyond that glowing light. She had once experienced those giddy moments of discovery, those heartfelt first steps toward a life together. The years since had taught her that life was a long and bending road with both laughter and sorrow aplenty. She sighed, wishing fervently for her son and new daughter to live a life inordinately blessed by the former and free of the latter. As she followed George and Kitty back to their house, she wondered what bend in the road may be ahead.
It was not until some hours later that Gilbert ventured out into the snowfall to fetch the pail of milk and check on the livestock. Back in the kitchen, he belatedly churned the cream into butter while Anne fried some eggs for a late supper. They happily sat down together for scrambled eggs along with cold ham and apple dumplings leftover from their wedding. The wind howled outside, the snowfall becoming a tempest of swirling snowflakes. After eating, they banked the fires, and by the light of a single candle, went upstairs to their bedroom.
Anne danced across the dark room to the window and looked out. It was a vision of wind and snow. The room was chilly, and she shivered. Gilbert came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms to warm her. With a smile, she allowed him to pull her to the bed. He kissed her long and heatedly, holding her against him until she felt quite warm. She guided his hands to caress her, and he eagerly obliged.
Her skin was so delightfully soft and smooth. He was thrilled to feel her sigh and melt into his arms. He could scarcely believe he was this fortunate. She pressed her lips to his, affirming that this fantasy was indeed reality. They quickly shed their clothes and fell into the bed. Shivering together at the cold bedclothes, they nestled against one another, pressing close. Gilbert held her in his arms, kissing every inch of her soft skin he could reach. His hand caressed her between her legs, gently touching her as she had taught him to do. Anne sighed with pleasure, throwing her head back, and Gilbert kissed the exposed column of her throat.
"Gilbert, darling," she murmured.
He rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs, his eyes on how lovely she looked in the candlelight. Moving slowly, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her breast. When she only sighed again, he gently took her taut nipple into his mouth.
"Oh, Gilbert," moaned Anne, and she ran her fingers through his hair, holding him against her breast.
Gilbert's composure slipped as surging need suffused him. "Darling," he panted. "Please, I must - "
Anne wrapped her legs around him, drawing him into her. Gilbert clasped her hips with one large palm and began to gently thrust into her. His other hand cradled her head, the weight of his body very nearly fully upon her. Anne gasped and smiled.
"Anne," Gilbert groaned, his eyes shut tight, a look of pain upon his face. "Anne."
It was then Anne realized that Gilbert had been withholding himself in their lovemaking. His tenderness was a difficulty to him, and yet he did so for her sake. She thought of the easing soreness in her muscles. What would it be to unleash him?
She tightened her embrace and said into his ear, "Love me, darling, as vigorously as you long to."
Gilbert choked in surprise and ceased his movements. "Are you sure?"
Another whisper in his ear. "Yes."
Gilbert made a rough sound. "Oh, Anne." He caught her in a frantic tight hold, and thrust into her with abandon. Anne gasped at the sudden intensity but found herself melting, yielding to Gilbert's passion. Her body instinctively responded with a rush of heat, her heart racing. With newfound ardor she clasped him to her. Gilbert gasping, groaning, pressed kisses to her neck.
"Is this alright? Oh Anne, darling," he panted.
"Yes, yes," she assured him.
Gilbert felt wild, untamed, exhilarated. All sensation and ardor, he could not recall a time when he had so relinquished control. And Anne had granted it to him. It was overwhelming and freeing all at once. As Anne cried out in ecstasy beneath him, he shouted and shuddered, pressing himself deep within her.
Breathless, they held one another. As heartbeats slowed, they began to laugh.
"That was," Anne began breathlessly. She laughed. "I am at a loss for words, for once."
Gilbert could not string a thought together, let alone speak, so he just drew her closer to him and kissed her.
When they had sufficiently recovered, they freshened up from the room's wash basin, then settled back into the bed, with nothing but the bedclothes and each other to protect from the winter chill.
Gilbert stroked Anne's hair, watching as her eyes fluttered shut and sleep claimed her. Suffused with love for her, he pondered their life together. Anne had not chosen a bed with Roy Gardener, no doubt a bed with damask canopies in a room with velvet drapes and Persian rugs. Electric lights would likely illuminate the Gardener bedroom. Roy probably wore a ruffled nightshirt with a tartan smoking jacket and fur slippers. Gilbert snorted at the thought. Far better to lie naked with Anne beneath the covers of a simple, homemade bed, in a room with rag rugs and muslin curtains, illuminated only by candlelight. Tennyson came to mind.
"Love is the only gold," murmured Gilbert, pressing a kiss to Anne's temple. For once in his life, he felt pity for Roy. Then, with a scoff and an eyeroll at such a foolish thought, Gilbert blew out the candle and went to sleep.
The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, leaving behind veritable drifts of deep snow beneath a cloudless blue sky. The trees were filled with a heavy canopy of snowfall, and all the nooks and hollows in the landscape had been filled and smoothed by snowflake upon snowflake. The newlyweds lazily began the day, rising late and breakfasting picnic-style among the blankets and cushions still upon the parlor floor. When Gilbert went outside to fetch the eggs and milk, he saw the deep path forged through the snow by his family to care for the livestock. Feeling guilty, he contemplated insisting on tending to the animals himself, but he knew that his family might be offended by him refusing their offer. It was a gift, he knew, for his wedding, and they wanted him to have it.
Anne was enchanted by the deep snow. She went out onto the back porch and beamed at the snowy world.
"Such a deluge of snow!" she exclaimed.
Gilbert came across the barnyard, trailing an old, wooden sled. Anne's eyes lit up.
"Would you like to go sledding, Anne-girl?"
For hours, they sledded down a secret slope that Gilbert had discovered as a child long ago. Hidden within the woods in a hilly meadow, the slope in question plunged down to a little ravine with a frozen creek. Laughing and shouting, they sped down the hill, both of them squeezed onto the sled. Then, floundering in the snow, teasing and jostling one another, they climbed back up to sled down again. It was a splendid time, and they returned to the Blythe farm, exhilarated and freezing.
Before they went inside, Anne found a fluffy mound of powdery snow and promptly threw herself upon it, arms and legs waving to create a snow angel. Highly amused, Gilbert mimicked her.
Anne laughed breathlessly, ceasing movement, and turned to Gilbert beside her. "Like-minded fools, I see."
Gilbert's grin faded at her words, recalling another time Anne had described them as like-minded fools. A golden field of oats, torn bits of paper with Anne's poetry, a broken heart, and an irate Diana came to mind.
Anne's laughter subsided at Gilbert's sorrowful expression.
"Do you still feel that way, Anne?" asked Gilbert.
Her eyes softened, and she reached across an angel wing to grasp his mittened hand, outstretched along his own wing.
"I know what you're thinking, Gil. Those days are gone, thank goodness." She sighed. "But I do still think we're like-minded fools, don't you?"
Gilbert thought of the years of teasing and grudges, fast-friendship and sworn enemies, all stemming from two people with strong opinions and intelligent minds. Like-minded fools indeed.
"I'll grant you that," said Gilbert, squeezing her hand where their wingtips met. They lay there for a moment, stretched out upon the snow, looking at one another. Anne's cheeks were rosy with cold, red hair escaping from its hairpins and sticking out from beneath her woolen hat. Her eyes shone with a wellspring of emotion, a depth of love Gilbert could not resist or deny. Clasping her outstretched hand, he pulled them together until their bodies met, and then their lips.
Anne laughed at the vigor of his kisses. "Darling, you've gone and ruined our snow angels!"
Gilbert kissed her again, undeterred. "The only angel I see is in my arms," he insisted.
"Sacrilege!" Anne cried, laughing, although what she truly felt was perhaps another swoon at his heady words. Thankfully, she was already upon the ground!
Gilbert chuckled, pressing another kiss against her lips. "Oh, Anne-girl," he gave her a teasing squeeze. "You've made me the happiest of men."
Anne smiled, giving him a surreptitious squeeze that evoked his pleased grin. "This certainly has been the happiest of honeymoons, darling."