Timeline - Anne's House of Dreams.
For a shorter narrative, I am combining the events that occur in this book and introducing ideas and characters in a different order. Some characters I am not using at all. It is very helpful to know the events of this book still even if I elect to take liberties here and there.

Warning: Sexual innuendoes
Special thanks to MrsVonTrapp for the beta reads.

Chapter 30: Married

The house of dreams featured a brand-new bathroom, complete with toilet, sink, and tub. The fixtures gleamed shiny new and reminded Anne a lot of the fancy hotel room that she and Mrs. Lynde stayed in for the Medical School's gala. Anne half expected to see the portrait of a scantily-clad woman on the wall but instead saw only pearly white paint. She sat on the bathtub's lip and reached for the hot and cold taps. Once she had balanced the temperatures, she replaced the plug and let it fill.

She carried in the crook of her arm one of her wedding gifts. It was a collection of bath oils and salts from Philippa's mother, Mrs. Gordon. Anne opened the box of bath candy with reservation as strong perfumes bothered her delicate skin and the last thing she needed was to add an irritant to the water. A few salt packets were labeled, "for vitality", "for sleep", and "for aches". Anne removed the "for aches" from the pastel array and sniffed it, trying to judge for herself by its scent if she should try it. Her nose couldn't distinguish the formula, but on the bright side, the whiff she took hadn't made her sneeze. It seemed promising and she needed the aid.

She tore the package open and poured some of the crystals into her hand. Epsom salts. That's what they reminded her of. They had bits of herb and pink rose petals for scent, but, by and large, the fancy concoction inside the teal paper was plain old Epsom salt, the same stuff Marilla bought from Blair's.

Anne sprinkled the tub with the pink petals and white grains and let its wrapper fall to the floor. She folded her clothes into squares, making a logical pile for dressing after she was done, and protected the bundle from droplets with a big, fluffy white towel.

Anne dipped a toe into the claw-footed tub, testing the temperature once more. It was warmer than normal but not too hot. She allowed the temperatures to blend as she wound her long, red braids to the top of her head. Once secured with a few big hairpins, she put on her bath-bonnet.

The hot water felt wonderful as she slipped her body into the steaming pool. Anne dozed with one foot perched on the ledge. She had quite forgotten where she was when she heard a noise downstairs.

Someone was moving through the house. Someone that said he'd be gone all day.

Anne's foot plunked back into the tub and she wished that the evidence of her presence wasn't spread out on the floor. The tub was deep, deep enough she could sink into it and not show her head. But he'd know she was in it when he saw her things littered everywhere. She hoped that the door wouldn't open as those familiar footsteps encroached closer. She was naked and felt insecure. There was nothing to hide behind, no curtain or suds.

"Hello? Anne?" Gilbert's voice came into the hallway.

Anne calmed a tiny bit hearing his voice. It's not a big deal, it's just Gilbert. He'd be keen to see her in her original form. The water distorted and, in some places, amplified her nakedness. Her sudden shyness baffled her, but then, it wasn't like he could really get a good look when they were under the sheets. What if Gil found her breasts disappointing? She didn't have a figure like most girls, not circles, but triangles with droopy points. Her corset did a lot to enhance the little she had.

Anne pulled her legs up to her body to hide her front. Modesty at all cost to protect her person.

The door creaked open. Gilbert sensed his wife's unease. "Anne?"

"Yes, I'm taking a bath." Water sloshed as her soap fell off the ledge. Anne girded herself with a big breath.

"I'm coming in, alright?"

"Sure," Anne heard hesitancy in her voice and she chagrined to it. How could there be impropriety to see one's spouse without clothing? She pressed her bosoms tighter to her thighs and hugged her legs.

After shutting the door, Gilbert stood there looking at her balled up body. Her eyes were wider than he had ever seen them before. As lovely as her face was, he found himself regarding her neck. Its curve was as alluring as ever. She stopped wearing chokers long ago, but, that didn't mean his favorite place to kiss was any less sexy. He was more careful now. He wanted to kiss that graceful slope and absorb the wet, floral scent. He returned his gaze to hers, her eyes striking for its vivid green clashing with the purple headpiece. Of all the things he might have said, he heard himself utter.

"Nice hat."

Anne's throat tightened as she pretended that his staring was not happening. "I thought you were going with Uncle Dave to the Moore's?"

"Turns out, Mrs. Moore and Mr. Moore weren't there." Gilbert approached now and squatted low, never taking his gaze away from her face. "It's just as well when you're so beautiful sitting right here. To think I almost missed this moment."

He leaned in to greet Anne properly with a kiss. It was as if his kiss unlocked Anne. She brought her hand to his jowl and held it there, directing his mouth to her lips where Gilbert treated her to a trinity of pecks, each one more passionate than the last. He drew away and smiled as Anne allowed her breasts to float.

"I spoke with their border, and Anne, I might not be able to help Mr. Moore, magically that is. Uncle Dave said he came back from Cuba simple-minded and Mr. Ford's comments support this. Mr. Ford was very talkative. I guess Mr. Moore gets boils. He said 'furuncle' though." Gilbert chuckled. "He's a writer, Anne. Uses the fancy, technical word for a rather un-fancy condition."

"A writer in Four Winds?"

Gilbert confirmed with a nod and he tapped her nose. In his eyes, there was only one writer worth his time, and he married her.

"A journalist then. Next time I go there, I'll offer to lance Mr. Moore's boils. And then I'll get a chance to read him. Diagnose what's wrong. But from what Uncle Dave said, I don't expect to be able to..." Gilbert cut himself short. He wasn't going to think about what he couldn't do but focus on what was possible.

"Gilbert—you can't heal everyone, nor, should you." Anne squeezed his hand with her own and then cupped his face again. She dragged her thumb over the end of his bushy mustache and brown whiskers turned black from the moisture. "You're not just a witch with supernatural healing powers, you are a good physician too. You wouldn't have passed medical school with honors if it weren't so."

Gilbert kissed the inside of her wrist before she drew it away and back into her bath. He stared into the water now, feeling as if he secured permission. His finger tapped the floating pink petals and he realized that the bath was still very warm. Almost too warm, but, that wasn't what bothered him about her retreat. For some reason, he recalled a conversation they had years ago when Anne told him that she hated preparing baths for Mrs. Hammond and avowed to never bathe for the sheer pleasure of it. Saturday night suds were good enough.

Gilbert looked around his feet and saw the spent wrapper. The text was upside down, but it didn't stop him from reading For Aches anyway. And like a match strike, he understood her predicament.

"Why the Tuesday bath, Anne-girl?"

Anne's temper flared. That was all the answer Gilbert needed, but far be it from Anne not to speak her mind.

"Gilbert, you must know that you are a husband of size and substance. A great provider in every sense of the word."

Gilbert's diverted his face because he could not contain his grin. It was so Anne to admonish and flatter him at the same time.

"Anne, if you hurt, I can heal you!" Gilbert teased. "All I have to do is—"

"Don't you even!" Anne shook her head vehemently as his hand hovered to touch her. No, no, no.

"Next time, I could use my second body and change some of my dimensions."

"Gilbert Blythe!" Anne's jaw unhinged, and Gilbert laughed harder than he had in a long time. "Don't you ever, ever, think about doing that! Now that I belong to the sisterhood of wives, I insist on paying my full dues." Anne splashed, dousing his roguish face.

Gilbert picked up the towel and rubbed his smile dry. He had a curious expression, the type that made Anne brace herself, unsure what he was thinking. Gilbert placed the towel over his arm, and then, stole her clothing.

"Gil!" Anne called for him as he opened the door. "Don't leave me like this."

Gilbert looked back with mischief contouring his expression. "I'll be right back. I promise."

Well, this is a fine kettle of fish. Anne straightened her bonnet and anxiously eyed the door. Maybe she ought to make a run for it, but where could she go when she was wet and naked? He'd like that, and they'd probably end up doing things negating any help the soak gave her.

As promised, Gilbert returned, wearing nothing but the fluffy, white towel.

Anne's face heated as she couldn't take eyes off his middle. Her jaw dropped. Anne realized her expression and then sharply turned her head away and tried to find something fascinating at the opposite end of the tub. But in all honesty, she couldn't help her own curious sideways glances.

"Anne, look at me please." Gilbert stood with fists on hips.

Anne's lips were pursed, and she heard herself whistle as she considered how to do what he asked. She didn't want to invade his privacy by fixating on his center. So, before she pivoted her head, she first tilted it back to make sure her gaze landed on his face and nowhere else. His eyes held a ridiculous amount of mirth.

"Anne, be honest with me. Do you think I've gained weight since we've married?"

"Weight?" Anne shook her head and smirked. "No, Gilbert, you're being silly. We've only been married for three days."

"Are you sure?" Gilbert asked, "I'm not getting flab on my belly, am I? Take a look, be honest."

Anne tightened her lips as she moved her eyes down his hairy chest to his navel. His belly button was prominent, not hidden by fat. "Nope, you're good."

Then Gilbert presented his profile and pointed out his hip. "Are you sure I don't have a love handle? Look again."

Anne hitched her breathe and took a second look, once again, trying to see only his waist but naturally seeing a bit more. Along the side of his leg, at his thigh, a jagged and angry scratch ran. Anne touched it, concerned.

"How'd you get that?"

"Someone needs to trim her toenails."

"Oh-" Anne turned her head away in horror. "Oh Gil, I'm sorry."

"Anne, it's alright," Gilbert assured her. "I..I didn't even notice when it happened. Frankly, I'm rather proud of it."

"You're proud of it?"

"It's a love wound." Gilbert beamed. "It means we're having fun, does it? We belong to each other, mind and body."

"I suppose you have a point." Anne arched.

Gilbert chuckled at her observation. "Scoot down please, I'm getting in."

"Gil! I don't think you're going to fit." Anne protested as he entered from behind. The water table rose in unison with his movements.

"Oh, I'll fit. It will be a tight squeeze, but, there's room."

Gilbert's legs popped up beside her. Anne never noticed his toes before. Those digits were freakishly long with tiny nail beds. She placed his shapely man feet on the edge of the tub as she nestled somewhat in the gap of his legs.

"See, nice and cozy."

"Says you," Anne retorted, feeling a bit smashed. "Why do I feel like we keep having the same conversation?"

Gilbert's arms came around her body and he kissed the base of her neck a few times.

"I am so sorry if I hurt you, Anne." His contrite voice and tender gestures sent shivers down Anne's spine as he caressed the shallow of her neck with his lips. She responded by holding his arms against her chest, inhaling deeply, and wishing that he might never let go. He kept sounding, in soft mutters, "I love you so much, Anne. I'm so sorry if I caused you pain."

"Don't apologize for something I wanted to do too." Anne leaned back against his chest, freeing her breasts to his palms. She wondered why she had been so self-conscious when he found her. She loved how he held her, how his thumbs brushed over her peaks.

"This feels familiar, doesn't it?"

Anne turned her head to look him in the eye and shook her head in consternation. "Gilbert, why are still wearing that towel on your head? You look ridiculous."

to be continued