Chapter 5

On Thursday evening, Anne stood before the long mirror in a white dress, her grey eyes enormous. "Stella, I don't think I can do this."

The girl in question straightened the train of the gown and rolled her eyes. "You can so, Anne. I've given away every white gown my mother ever bought me- and I won't marry in white myself. Mother may like it, but it makes me look like my own corpse- my husband-to-be would go into mourning before I even made it down the aisle."

Anne chuckled, her eyes on the lovely puffed sleeves her younger self would have had raptures about. "It's so pretty, though."

"On you, yes." Stella twisted back Anne's red locks from her face, looking at her friend critically. "You know, some cultures have their brides wearing red. I could make that work."

Anne picked up the skirt of the gown with a snort. "And I most certainly could not."

They turned at a step at the door, and Priscilla came in looking approvingly at Anne.

"It's lovely, sweetie. Pretty, understated- exactly suited to a young bride."

Anne turned back to the mirror, her hand smoothing over the waistline of the dress and trying to smooth the fluttering inside. She frowned slightly. She seemed to be dropping weight- although Aunt Jimsie merely piled her plate higher, saying that all brides were nervous as their wedding day neared. Of course, Anne thought dryly, most brides had longer than a week to get used to the idea.

It was now only two days before the wedding. Gilbert had come and gone from the house so often that the others had teased that he might as well move in after the wedding- this suggestion, however, was met with a resounding no by the pair.

On Tuesday afternoon Gilbert had bounded up the stairs of the English lecture hall to meet Anne, nodding at an amused Professor Winston before whisking his bride-to-be around the corner of the building.

"I've found a nest for us, Anne."

Anne stared at him in disbelief. "So soon? Didn't you only start looking yesterday?"

He grinned. "It's not like we have much time, Anne. I had help. Will you come with me to my boarding house?" At her hesitant expression, he hurried to explain. "There's a cottage behind my building- I didn't even know it was a part of the property. My landlady is willing to rent it to us if we like it. It's not fancy, but it will do us for a time- and it's cheaper than what I pay now."

Anne swallowed and forced a smile. "That's wonderful."

Gilbert gave her a shrewd look. "Anne, you know I can tell when you're worried- you don't need to pretend with me."

With cheeks that flushed in vexation at being read so well, she had shaken her head. "I know. I'm just struggling to believe that this is real."

Gilbert took her hand in his, his eyes understanding. "Honestly, I am too. Will you come with me, though? I didn't want to say yes without you seeing it."

Classes were over for the day, and just ten minutes later Anne stared up at Gilbert's boarding house with huge eyes. Gilbert tugged her hand gently, and together they stood on the top step as he rang the bell.

"Mr Blythe, you haven't lost your key again-" an exasperated voice said before she noticed the redheaded girl standing beside him. "Oh. This must be your intended," Mrs Alice Whitley said stiffly.

Gilbert nodded and introduced the two women courteously. Not one to mince words, the older woman shut the door behind her, a large key chain jingling by her side. "We'll walk around- that way you don't have to walk through the house." Anne fell into step beside Gilbert, and she looked around her, still wondering if she could be dreaming. They walked along the path that ran beside the house, the crumbling wall between the boardinghouses almost completely covered with ivy. Anne shivered. The sunlight had little chance to penetrate between the walls, and a cool wind blew along the path, scattering the last remaining dead leaves about their feet.

At the end of the path, Anne halted in surprise. The cottage lay further from the house than she had imagined, with a large tree sheltering it- and on it, at least, was sunshine. Great lines of clothing ran along the far side of the yard, and beside the cottage was a small outhouse, recently- and poorly- whitewashed.

"I've got to get back to the dinner," Mrs Whitley stated briskly, handing Gilbert a set of keys. "Look around a bit, and come see me afterwards."

When she had gone, Gilbert turned to Anne with a shrug. "She's warmer than she looks."

Anne squared her shoulders, her grey eyes clear. "I don't doubt that. Shall we?"

He nodded, and together they looked at the cottage doubtfully. "Brown," was all Gilbert said.

"And not a nice one, I'm afraid. The colour looks familiar though-"

To her surprise, Gilbert suddenly snapped his fingers. "Charlie's house back home."

To this, Anne could only laugh. "Oh dear- you're right. Perhaps that doesn't bode well for us."

After fumbling with the keys to find the correct one, the door opened with an indecent screech, both sets of teeth on edge at the harsh sound. Together they stepped inside, and after a dumbfounded moment, Anne swallowed. "More brown." She walked into a simple living area that merged into a small kitchen and drew in a deep breath. "It's- furnished. I hadn't even considered furniture."

Gilbert's doubtful glance turned to the mismatched pieces scattered here and there. "Neither had I. But then I've only been engaged for two and a half days."

"That's your excuse?" Anne teased lightly, moving to what she assumed was the bedroom door and stopping comically. "Oh. Browner."

"How is browner than brown even possible?" Gilbert asked, before coming to stand in the doorway. His eyebrows rose. "Ah. That's how."

The bedroom was far larger than Anne's blue room at Patty's Place, however, every surface was painted in the same colour- including the low ceiling. Her eyes avoided the double bed deliberately, and she opened a door to the right to discover another room to one side- one hardly big enough to hold a desk.

Gilbert ruffled his hair uneasily. "I'm sure we can find another bed- the room is big enough. And the wardrobe isn't a bad size."

Anne turned to view the chest of drawers and cupboard and nodded. "Well, we are used to living out of suitcases," she pointed out feebly. "I don't see why this wouldn't do for- for us."

She watched him abruptly turn to leave the room, and followed him. "Gil, what is it?"

"It just- it shouldn't be like this," he said tersely.

Anne's hands clenched. "I know that. But it is, Gil."

"No, Anne, I mean that it shouldn't be like this for you. You should have something better than this."

Anne watched in shock as he angrily flung himself down onto the sofa, a puff of dust rising from the fabric as he did so. Slower, she went to sit in the chair near him. "I don't think there is any point in continuing to berate ourselves," Anne said carefully. "Although I'm quite sure that Professor Hallett would love to know that the guilt was eating us alive." Gilbert only snorted at this, and she sighed, looking around her. "Is it so very bad?" She couldn't help but smile at his look of scorn and stared at him candidly. "I lived in conditions you would not step foot in, oh son-of-the-land. While I admit that sunbursts and marble halls would be nicer, this is only temporary."

Gilbert cleared his throat, unwilling to admit how emotional the experience was making him. "I just wish it was better for your sake."

A flash appeared in Anne's grey eyes. "Perhaps I understood that going in, Gilbert. Perhaps I was intelligent enough to know that we are both sacrificing some comfort in the short term- to prevent a much bigger sacrifice that would hurt us. What is it that you think I can't handle?"

"Nothing! It's not about that- it's about what a man is supposed to offer a woman-" he said angrily.

Anne bit down her temper with an effort, and crossed to sit beside him. "Gilbert, it can't be like that now," she said calmly. "You aren't meant to be taking care of me- we are partners in this now. Right now neither of us have anything to offer- except ourselves. We can do this." Her eyes twinkled then. "You may make it up to me later."

Gilbert turned to see her smile and chuckled. "Like showering you with diamonds?"

Anne scowled, to his surprise. "Certainly not. I was so disappointed when I first saw one on a lady's hand- when I read about them, I thought they would be a lovely purple."

To this, he began to laugh and looked at her fondly. "That does sound like you, Anne. Well, I'm sure I'll find something to shower you with- and we do have to live somewhere while we study. It may as well be here if we can cope with it."

Anne looked around her thoughtfully. "It's got a fireplace- furniture, it's not far from college-"

"It's cheaper than I expected, and we can use the laundry at the boarding house-"

"And we even have a living room of our own," Anne added dryly. "The bedroom is at least separate. We can put a desk beneath the window- I bought one for my room last year. The kitchen is adequate-"

Gilbert smoothed the grey fabric of his trousers over his legs uneasily. "Look here, Anne; if we are to be partners in this- I'm a terrible cook. But I want to learn. You're as busy as I am- you shouldn't have to do it all just because I know that you can."

Anne quirked an eyebrow. "You didn't do any cooking when you were in Alberta?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Nope. Porridge I can do- the ranch cook did the rest. And you know how mother was about sharing her kitchen."

Anne settled back against the sofa gingerly, thinking that the first thing the brown house needed was a decent cleaning- Marilla would have been horrified. "I did offer to teach you years ago, Gil."

"And now I will say thank you and ask you to start on Monday," he replied cheerfully, making her laugh.

When they rose, Anne looked around the room. "Well- in view of our time constraints, it might be best to take this one."

He sighed, rubbing his face. "And if it proves terrible, we could look for something better when we come home next autumn." He stopped, looking down at a startled Anne. "What is it?"

She shook her head, trying to smile. "You said- coming home. It's just so strange to think that you mean- to our home."

"I guess I did." He watched her curiously for a moment. "Was it wrong of me to say that?"

She chuckled, embarrassed. "No. It just takes a little getting used to, I suppose."

Gilbert stepped in close, his eyes serious. "We'll have plenty of time to get used to it, Anne. It's alright."

Anne nodded, ignoring the butterflies that had taken possession of her stomach. She gave him her best smile though and lifted her chin. "Well, suppose we go and let Mrs Whitley know that we will take this extremely brown cottage."

As Gilbert locked the door behind them, Anne turned at the gate to look at the cottage curiously. "It's like a mushroom under winter skies- the sort that grows in the shadows of the Haunted Wood."

He took her hand in his then, a small smile on his face. Being able to touch her in these small ways was quite making up for the stress of the past week, he thought dryly. Out loud, he only said- "Perhaps it's better to live in a mushroom together than in palaces far apart."

Anne chuckled, flushing. "I think so. The Mushroom House it is."

Once Anne was in her normal dress again, Stella hung it on the door of her cupboard with a smile. "And how is the future Mrs Blythe doing?"

Anne looked around her blue room wistfully. "Better than I would have expected, to be honest. I do wish I didn't have to leave this place, though."

"Ah, but to live in a house where you have a strapping fellow to cut the firewood, and you don't need to ruin your dress doing it!"

Anne chuckled wryly. "Well, there is that. There had to be something good in this mess, didn't there?"

Stella sat down next to Anne on the bed. She looked at her curiously. "You still see it as a mess?"

Anne frowned. "Well- yes. It wouldn't be happening if we hadn't been so foolish- or if I hadn't," she muttered.

Stella sighed, leaning back on her hands. "You're not happy about any of it?"

"I wouldn't say that," she said slowly. "If I could have picked anyone to face it all with- the ridicule and gossip and un-comfortableness- it would certainly be Gilbert. He's been wonderful."

Stella was silent for a time, trying to gauge if she should speak openly. "What are you going to do, Anne?" she asked quietly. "Gilbert has a good heart- he cares about you- and he doesn't want a sham marriage. Neither do you."

Anne paled. "I don't know. I suppose- I assumed that somewhere along the line we would begin to love each other for real- wouldn't we?"

Stella let out a cautious breath. "Are you quite sure that you don't already? The two of you are already so close."

Anne swallowed. "I know that he cares for me- and there is no one I care about more, in some ways- but it's so sudden. I'm not in love with him- and yet he's going to be my husband. And while a part of me still wants to run screaming from the idea of a marriage right now, another part is frightened of what would happen to us if we didn't do it now. I- don't want to lose him."

Stella could only look at Anne helplessly, knowing that she wasn't ready to face the truth yet. "You're right. That's a lot to deal with."

"Which is why we need to take things slowly. The gossip has barely begun for us, yet. Professor Hallett will be watching us constantly. We have to get through our courses- and Gilbert wants to go to medical school afterwards," Anne said, a hint of desperation in her voice.

Stella was quick to put her arms around her, and she gave Anne a tight squeeze. "Well, it sounds as if you have plenty of time to figure things out in that case," she said bracingly. "You know we'll be here for you both. And if anyone can make this work, it's the two of you. I honestly don't know what Hallett was thinking, making the two of you team up- you'll be unstoppable together."

Later that night, after a merry dinner with the girls and Aunt Jimsie, Anne lay in her bed staring up at the dark ceiling. At the moment, her days seemed to be spent reassuring everyone that she was fine- her nights, on the other hand, were comprised of small bouts of sleep, followed by waking in a panic, thinking that she heard someone breathing in the same room. It was ludicrous, of course. Gilbert was on the other side of town, most likely asleep- and she was alone.

For just two more days.

On Monday they had met with Phil's Jonas. Under the sanction of the austere Reverend of the Presbyterian church, Jo would conduct the wedding himself in the company of the little household. He sat with the couple in the dining room listening to the tale with no trace of judgment on his face- and once, Anne even thought she caught a suspicious twinkle in his eye. When they were done though, he talked to them both sensitively and compassionately about their expectations for their marriage, how they planned to continue studying while they got used to the new conditions of their life, and when they were planning on telling their families. When Phil brought in some tea, Anne couldn't help a little sigh at the obvious affection between the pair- although when she had turned back, a set of hazel eyes had been trained on her thoughtfully- and she had found her cheeks burning as her own eyes dropped.

On Tuesday they had seen and accepted the cottage- Gilbert's landlady had been brisk and thorough in her expectations: the place was to be kept tidy at all times; rent was due on the first of every month, and visitors must be gone by ten at night. They were to be very careful with the walls, too- her husband (God rest his soul) had sealed the cracks and repainted it only fifteen years ago. Gilbert's face was preternaturally solemn, as he reassured her that they would guard the paintwork carefully.

On Wednesday night they had gone over their finances together- which had gone rather more smoothly than one would have expected. Tuition for the two of them had been covered by scholarships until the end of the school year, and their path to Redmond had of necessity involved careful budgeting. Anne had somewhat guardedly told her future husband that she had planned to find work through the summer, unsure of how she would react if Gilbert had argued. As it happened, he had only been relieved- his own calculations had shown him that it was necessary he worked for the summer as well. Patty's Place had given Anne good practice in household management, and she was confident that she would be able to do the same at the brown cottage. Gilbert, in turn, had brought with him a list of everything they would need for the cottage to be comfortable, and for the year to come. Aunt Jimsie had sat with them then, suggesting things the couple had not yet thought of- including the mention of a large bathtub, which silenced poor Anne for the next ten minutes.

Anne forced herself to breathe deeply now, trying to relax under Mrs Lynde's warm quilt. They knew each other, and they knew what they were getting into. They knew each others' families- and as little as Anne liked it, their families had most likely assumed that this marriage would happen one day. She gave a deep sigh, pushing her pillow into a comfortable position. Marilla would be happy that it was Gilbert, she thought wistfully. She understood the hopes the older woman had quietly cherished- she understood too what Marilla hoped they would mend.

Idly, she tugged on the long red braid that lay beside her. Had Gilbert ever known about that?

She had packed up her stories last night- the books and loose sheets that had held her imagination in glowing and emotional words. She had laughed a little at the childlike stories of the Story Club- and she had cried over the girls who had created them. Jane, now teaching on the prairies; Diana, faithfully waiting at home to be married to her Fred. And beautiful Ruby- Anne shivered. Had it really been over a year since they had lost her?

Unwillingly, then, she remembered the imaginary suitor she had dreamed of as a girl- the exotic, melancholy gentleman who would whisk her into places unknown.

He wasn't real. Deliberately, she gritted her teeth, replaced him in her mind's eye with Gilbert. She had made her choice. They would battle through this- they would lead a good life together. She drew in a shaking breath and tried to close her eyes.

Sleep, however, resisted her until dawn's rays dared to peek through the inky sky.

By Friday night, Anne had worked herself into quite a state. Sleep deprived and exhausted, she had gone home determined to pack her belongings for the following day. She dragged the heavy trunks down from the attic, fighting back tears at the summer gowns that should not have made an appearance for many months. Stubbornly, she wrestled them into trunks that suddenly began to seem too small. There was nothing more to be done- and she wouldn't discuss it any further with the girls. With Gilbert it was easier to restrict conversations to what was practical and necessary right now- if he had noticed her emotionally withdrawing from him as the week wore on, he made no mention of it.

Anne shook herself. In one day it would be irrevocable- and in one day she would be Gilbert Blythe's wife. She shivered at the images that popped unbidden into her mind. Sharing a bedroom- washing dishes together, working and laughing- him holding her close-

If she was honest, this terrified her more than anything else. She didn't doubt that they would find a way to make it livable. What suddenly frightened her was the fact that the boundary lines would blur- she couldn't protest that she felt nothing for him if she was willing to marry him now, could she? She pulled the photographs down from the mantelpiece, odd poems and pictures that she had stuck on the wall, including one that Gilbert had given her for Christmas the previous year. Anne studied it absently. He'd told her that he had found it in a market stall- a picture of a rocky shore, with storm clouds building over a deep blue ocean. Tucked into the back of the frame was the small card he had included- "for the one who constantly challenges my horizons," he had cheekily written. Back then, she had laughed flippantly to cover her unsettled mind- there had been an intensity in his eyes that night that startled her. Almost a year ago now heavy winter storms had swept through the northern shore, almost severing the paths between outlying farms; and yet Gilbert had faithfully waded through the drifts to come and see her when he could, his hazel eyes fixed on her in each poignant moment of silence.

Anne sat down on her bed, her heart beating queerly. For the first time, she had to ask- what did it mean that Gilbert could so unsettle her with a glance? She had been so determined that she would not allow this- whatever- was growing between them. It was foolish to limit themselves when there were horizons to be fought for. She lifted a shaking hand to brush a small tear away from her cold cheek. Now she had unconsciously trapped them into a future that they had not planned for. Could her horizon still exist?

She rose to her feet then, clenching her jaw. Well, she may have limited her own future- but she would never limit his. Gilbert would have his dream.

She would make darned sure of that.

Patty's Place was filled with classmates and friends that night- Stella and Priscilla had brought friends over, never giving any hint to their guests that the juiciest gossip of the junior year was being harboured under their roof. Anne herself had moved through the past week in great trepidation of the whispers starting, although nothing had as yet been said- there was, however, a certain gleam in Claire Hallett's eyes whenever she looked at Anne. She hadn't spoken to Gilbert about that yet- he had enough to worry about. And how could she argue with a look?

Conspicuously absent that night was Gilbert himself, who was moving his belongings into the brown cottage. In her own anxiety, Anne herself preferred to stay away from the noise and fuss, and had been dragged down from her almost bare room by Phil. She insisted that the right company would do her good- and took her into the cosy dining room for tea and cake with herself and her beloved Jonas. Jo's gentle humour and sincerity had quite won an Anne who had been eager to approve of him, and she found herself talking to him openly.

Phil sipped her tea, her brown eyes twinkling at the way Jonas had penetrated the bubble Anne had placed herself in for the past week. For a moment she was distracted by his wide mouth, the way his over-large hands brushed the messy hair out of his face and then she suddenly heard what Anne was saying.

"How can you feel so easy about this?"

Phil sat up in some concern.

Jo grinned. "You imply that I shouldn't feel easy about officiating your wedding? I'm quite good at it by now- you'll be my second."

A worried Anne flushed, folding her arms. "I only meant that this particular type of wedding might have caused you an ethical dilemma."

He sobered then, his elbows resting on the table. "Anne, I certainly don't see it that way. Can I ask how you see it?"

Anne, who had not expected this question, found herself hesitating. "I- I wonder if it's right," she said softly. "Love should be the only thing that would motivate one to matrimony."

Jonas frowned. "I would agree with that." Anne seemed to only grow more upset, and he pushed himself forward to clarify his words. "What is the most powerful form of love?"

Anne blanched. "Do you mean distinguishing between romantic, or more filial types of affection?"

Jonas smiled at her earnest face, taking note also of the warm look Phil was giving him. "Not exactly. We are told that there are different types of love- Agape, divine love; Phileo, friendship, Storge, affection. And of course Eros- romantic love."

Anne gave a half smile, remembering the Greek essays that had driven the small household to distraction. "I suppose I always thought romantic love was the strongest of them," she said absently.

Jo nodded, his green eyes thoughtful. "Yes, it is often viewed that way. I wonder, though, if we miss something by dividing it. Love has many appearances, and yet it is always given as a gift. I see no lack of love here at all, Anne." At her disbelieving look, his face seemed to light up with fervour. "Love, Anne. 'Greater love hath no man than this- that a man lay down his life for his friends'," he quoted quietly. "I've always believed that we choose to love- and the two of you are choosing to lay down your own lives for each other right now."

Anne's face was stunned. "But we are only doing it because we have to-"

Phil spoke softly, then. "No, honey. The two of you always had a choice. I know that you've had your doubts this week- but you haven't changed your mind, even if you are scared. Why not?"

Anne paled. "Because I wouldn't do that to Gilbert. I promised. I won't let him deal with this alone."

Jo reached across to place a hand on Anne's arm, his look earnest. "That's love, Anne. I know it's not customary to do it like this- but a firm friendship, respect, fidelity, honour and affection- that is love in action. Everything else- and I do mean romantic love as well- will grow from what you already have. I believe that with all my heart."

Anne carefully raised a shaking hand up to wipe away a tear. "I- I suppose I hadn't thought about it like that. It just doesn't seem right to decide it so coolly, though."

Jo crossed his arms speculatively. "You know the vows, don't you?"

She gave a tired laugh. "They have been running through my mind of late, yes."

"For better or worse- in sickness and in health, for as long as you both may live. Anne, do you intend to carry those vows out to the best of your ability?"

A slight spark came into her grey eyes, and she sat up straighter. "I would not promise that if I didn't intend to carry it out," she said quietly. "I intend to be the wife that he needs- whatever that may be. Even if I do have some questions about the 'obey' part," she mumbled, making the other two laugh.

"I don't think there is a woman alive who hasn't questioned that," Jo commented, with a sly look at the girl who was refilling his cup. She only winked at him cheekily. "I won't say it will be easy- and it may be a hard road, to begin with. But as a clergyman," he said gently, "I haven't the slightest misgiving in marrying the two of you tomorrow."

Anne chuckled shyly. "Thank you, Jo. Do you need to have this discussion with Gilbert as well?"

Jonas gave her a curious look then. "No- I don't think he needs this particular conversation."

Anne shrugged, her smile unconsciously fond. "No. I suppose Gilbert is too practical to get caught up in questions of theoretical morality."

Jo turned to Phil in some surprise, only to see her smile with an understanding roll of the eyes. He himself had spent several hours with Gilbert through the week- once to clarify some details for the paperwork, and he'd helped him move furniture around only that afternoon in the tiny cottage. He understood at once why Phil had spoken so highly of him, and he looked forward to getting to know Gilbert Blythe better, over the coming months.

Phil smiled at him, and then took a long look at the bride-to-be. "Anne, honey, you need to go to bed. You have a big day tomorrow."

Her friend scowled. "Something I did try to tell you earlier," she pointed out. "Thank you both, though. I'm sure you can find much better things to do without me now," she teased, standing up from her chair and stretching her arms luxuriously. With a wave, she was gone to skirt her way around the busy living room, and Phil watched her head for the stairs through the open door.

Jo rubbed his face in some bewilderment. "She has no idea, does she?"

Phil sighed, rising to close the door again. "Oh, she knows, alright. She just won't admit that she knows. The only question is- how long will it take her to admit that she and Gilbert have been in love with each other all along?"