Beloved people! I know that I've been MIA for quite some time- I have a feeling that my family would say the same, even if I have been physically present. I'm reasonably alright, and want to thank you so much to everyone who was checking up on me. It's really not been the best of seasons for our family, however, we're still here, and thanking God for both laughter and stories. And chocolate. I'm very thankful for chocolate.

For the other wonderful writers who do such a wonderful job of making us laugh and cry with their stories, I'm so sorry that I haven't been able to review! Time is decidedly elusive, which is the other reason why this chapter is months late. I promise that I have been reading along, and they have been a desperately needed escape for me over the last while. (With the chocolate, too.)

Thank you for still reading this mammoth of a story (really, it's getting so long I was almost too chicken to continue), and for reading the others when I became a little ghost-like on here.

On a side note, can I just say a big thank you to one darling reader from whom I got one of the most hilarious messages ever- she told me that she had blackmailed her husband into reading Shore of Dreams. I absolutely killed myself laughing at that, and let me tell you, that was a blessed miracle in itself.

Love to you all, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Cate.

Chapter 39

Anne's gaze roved the assembled crowd as Roy's mellifluous voice echoed from the podium. She could see the curious glances coming from those nearby, no doubt they were wondering who the unknown guest could be. She drew in a deep breath, willing the butterflies in her belly to subside. Over on her left, Gilbert stood with Phil and Jo, and her lips twitched at the sight of him. He was wrinkling his jacket terribly with the way his arms were crossed- and the tie he had taken such pains over was slightly loose now. His hazel eyes were on her though, steady and confident. She gave him a slight smile when she heard Roy speak her name, and winked at him- and was instantly rewarded with Gilbert's broad grin and a loosening of his shoulders. Phil was holding Jo's hand in a tight clasp beside Gilbert, her brow creased in concentration.

There was a slight pause, and the polite clap of gloved hands, and she turned to see Roy holding his hand out to her to ascend the platform. She held her notes in her hand carefully as he stepped back, the bright lights from the chandelier obscuring the faces of those nearby. There was a breathless moment in the silence, and her eyes flicked to Gilbert again- his curly head only nodded, and she smiled.

"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests," she said clearly. "It is an honour to be asked to address you tonight- and on behalf of the children you support so generously, I wish to convey my gratitude. The care and provision given to these most vulnerable children will bless many generations, and our world will be rewarded when these same young men and women are embraced, educated and equipped to become valuable members of our society."

Anne paused, and out of the corner of her vision, she could see Roy stiffening, knowing that this was the part he was most nervous about. "You see, I speak from experience," she spoke, her voice carrying in the silent hall. "I was orphaned as a baby."

The sudden discomfort in the room was tangible, and Anne smiled at the people, her eyes kind. "My parents were taken from me by a virulent fever that swept through Bolingbroke when I was only three months old. I was more fortunate than many- I have letters that tell me something of who they were, and the account of a woman who once knew Walter and Bertha Shirley. They are reminders that I treasure- the knowledge that I was wanted, and deeply loved." She drew in a breath, and continued. "To say that the first ten years of my life were difficult, is an understatement. I was fortunate enough to be given a home with two families- if reluctantly- and I will never cease to be grateful that they kept me alive. I was expected to work from my board as soon as I could hold a broom, and spent most of my formative years caring for the many children the families produced- including three consecutive sets of twins in one household." There was a titter of laughter at this, and Anne smiled. "It is perhaps no wonder that I went into teaching as young adult- I have been surrounded by children for most of my life, and have found it supremely satisfying to be a part of encouraging them to learn and grow. The trouble, of course, was that I needed someone who would do that for me.

"I entered the Hopetown asylum in the winter before I turned eleven, when the family that I was living with broke up housekeeping. The orphanage was already overcrowded and poor- however, as it was clear that no one wanted me, they had little choice but to take me in." Anne took a moment to look toward Gilbert. His hands were buried deep in his pockets now, his jaw tightly clenched. The look in his eyes broke her heart. She met his eyes in apology, and cleared her throat. "Truthfully, it is a time I would rather forget," she said softly, in a silence so deep that you could hear a pin drop. "Our time in the orphanage was spent caring for the younger and infirm children, and cleaning and cooking as payment for our board. Those who were well and of age were sent to school- where I discovered a love of learning, despite the fact that I was behind my peers academically.

"I fell in love with poetry there," she said, with a twinkle in her eyes as she sought out Professor Winston, standing beside a beaming Neil Cross. "To the frustration of my teachers, the study of English came naturally to me, even if I was hopelessly behind in all other areas of my education." Anne paused, a little smile on her face. "I believe that I presented quite a challenge to those at the orphanage. I buried my nose in every book we had, from Brewer's Guide to the Scientific Knowledge of Things Familiar, to Charles Johns' Flowers of the Field. Aside from those that I could lay my hands on, I wove fantastical stories about castles, and brave knights- and I could usually be relied upon to forget what I was supposed to be doing. Perhaps it was for this reason that I was never allowed to make the matron's tea." There was more polite laughter and Anne could see that Gilbert was calming, and gave him a little smile, before growing serious. "The fanciful, the story-like was a hiding place from the reality that I was unwanted. That thought was ingrained in me since I was very small- and I dreamed of finding a family who wanted me. I was fed and clothed and had a roof over my head, however, my heart was starving for affection. And through a mistake that I will forever be grateful to, I was sent to a brother and sister who wished to adopt a little boy." The very thought of Matthew and Marilla caused a glow of happiness to come over her, and she smiled. "I arrived at the train station at Bright River talking, and Marilla assures me that I have not stopped yet. While she and many others had concerns about adopting someone of unknown origin, the decision was made to keep me. I was sent to school and gradually began to find my feet as any child should- with people who cared for me, someone to teach me how to live; classmates to sharpen me, and a community who helped me to grow.

"These are the things that are essential for children to flourish, not merely survive," Anne stated, her eyes glittering in the lamplight. "Love, acceptance, community. It is my belief that a child will respond to the way they are treated. While it is preferable that these children are sent to loving, safe, families- I believe that we can yet foster a belief in a child's worth while still in these institutions, by treating these cast-off children as having the value and dignity of every human being- irrespective of parentage, economic status or physical appearance. I believe it is necessary to teach them that they have worth whilst they are young. By doing this, we can equip them with the confidence necessary to take their place in society." At this impassioned statement, Anne drew in a breath, her eyes softening as she looked to the crowd, many people now moving uneasily. "I was encouraged as a child to excel at my studies, and dedicated teachers made it possible for me to catch up on the work that I had missed. At Miss Stacey's suggestion, I joined a special class to prepare for the Entrance exam, with a view to becoming a teacher myself. I was accepted into the Queens academy at Charlottetown, and it was recommended that I work to get a first-class license in one year, which I was able to do.

"All this was made possible by the support I was given by my adopted family- and by the men and women of the community who sought to give me a sense of my own worth. By believing the best in me, rather than listening to rumours of the odd, red-headed orphan girl," she said, her grey eyes twinkling fondly, "by correcting me and teaching me how to value myself and others, and from my classmates, who deemed me worthy to compete with them." She smiled at her husband, who beamed at her proudly. "I was given every possible chance to succeed, then- and it is my earnest desire to inspire other vulnerable children with a love of learning, but more importantly, with a sense of value for who they are, for the people they will become. Every life is important," Anne spoke over the crowd deliberately. "Every child is worth investing in, believing in. It is my hope that together, we can give these children not only the food, shelter and clothing that they need, but also something to hope for, and believe in for themselves. As patrons; as surrogate mothers and fathers to the unloved and unwanted, and as their teachers and peers.

Thank you."

In the wake of the sudden applause from the crowd, Roy stepped up to thank her for her contribution, and at his word, the musicians began to play again. The crowd once again turned to each other, beginning to talk in low voices. Anne breathed a sigh of relief as Roy assisted her down in her heavy gown, and she received his mother's polite (if stiff) thanks. As the older woman turned away, Anne hesitated, and then swiftly obeyed the impulse that seized her. She slipped behind a tall potted palm and through the door back into the empty sitting room. She leant back against the door, thankful to be away from the bright lights. For a moment then she allowed herself to breathe, and even laugh at herself, a little. She sat down on a sofa, gazing blankly at the flickering fire. She had only met Neil Cross in this room a short time ago. What had he thought of her speech? Did he agree with what she had said?

Or would people blame her for the manner in which she had spoken of her past?

Anne's hand trembled as she tucked a loose curl behind one ear, trying to stop her imagination from conjuring reproachful looks from various benevolent people she had once known. Mrs Hammond, Mrs Thomas and her old matron- the one who had given her the chance to go to the island.

It wasn't ingratitude, she reminded herself sternly. Her own misery at the Hopetown Asylum aside; she could remember only too clearly the pale, wan looks of the older children there, the childish spirit so swiftly disciplined out of those who were younger. The children who could not yet talk, who flinched when older voices were raised- Anne swallowed hard, her eyes glittering. No; it was necessary to speak up. Perhaps someone in this crowd would hear, and they would have the ability-

The door opened, and she looked up to see Roy holding it ajar for Gilbert. He wore a slight smile, however, his hazel eyes were sharp.

"Could you give us a moment?" she heard him ask.

Roy inclined his head. "Certainly. Although I will not be able to hold them off for long."

The door closed, and Anne's gaze followed her husband as he crossed the room to her side. When he reached for her, Anne turned to nestle into his waistcoat, a few unexpected tears seeping through the fabric as he held her tightly. "Hey, now," he whispered, and she felt him move to search for his handkerchief. After a moment, Anne pulled away with a little chuckle and opened Gilbert's jacket to pull out the handkerchief he had placed there just hours ago.

"You are a man who will conquer the world, dearest. Why on earth do you struggle to remember what you put in your pockets?"

"My mind is occupied with more important things," he protested, taking the cloth from her to dab her eyes inexpertly. After laughing at his attempts, Anne took it from him to finish the job, sighing when he took her face in his hands to kiss her forehead. His look was gentle.

"That was harder to do than I thought it might be."

Gilbert's smile twisted, and he touched his nose to hers. "Well, I'm so proud of you that I could burst," he said firmly. "You had them all in the palm of your hand, just as I knew you would."

Anne's look was disbelieving, and Gilbert's eyebrow rose. "What do you think Roy is doing out there right now? Holding the crowd back. We saw you leave the room, and thought you might have needed a moment."

"I did," Anne said dryly, her eyes closing as he wrapped an arm around her. "I'm- just overwhelmed. It was one thing to tell people who knew me of my past- and quite another to tell the people who don't. And highly influential people, at that."

Gilbert chuckled. "You've never been one to be overawed at important people, Anne."

"When they directly influence the futures of children just like myself?" she retorted, following her words with an odd sigh. "I keep wondering if I said enough, or if I said too much-"

He cut her off with his mouth firmly against hers, his touch calming as he scooped her onto his lap in the privacy of the dim room. "You were perfect."

"You're biased."

"Yes. However, the people outside are not- and everyone wants to talk to you." Gilbert met her startled grey eyes and grinned. "Roy was besieged by people wanting to meet young Mrs Blythe. He's holding them off until you're ready to see them."

Anne drew in a deep breath and smiled faintly. "Oh. Well, it may as well be now."

"You're sure?"

"I'm not planning to come back and do this again," she said candidly, making Gilbert laugh as he placed her back on her feet. "I shouldn't have disappeared."

"Anne-girl, of everyone here tonight, I'd like to think that I understand a bit of what it costs you to do this. I'm so proud of you- and especially of why you are doing it. And one day, you might just stir one of these people into doing something about it."

As Roy predicted, over the next hour, Gilbert stood by her side as they met enough people to set Anne's head spinning. The board of the orphanage was in attendance, and all wished Mr Gardner to introduce them to the guest speaker. Some, of course, were cautious in their praise; after all, she had never visited the Kingsport Asylum herself, had she? It was a very genteel place. Others inquired after the family Anne had lost, and her future plans; and her hand was grasped by yet another elderly gentleman, who thanked her with tears in his eyes.

Gilbert had not exaggerated the demand for young Mrs Blythe's attentions. Wealthy, well-connected people, politicians and pretty socialites all came to greet her; the latter, Anne suspected, were eager to take advantage of her proximity to the young Gardner heir. She received approving comments about her dress, appreciation for her unique perspective, and questions about how someone with Anne's background was able to work toward a college degree. Gilbert's eyes twinkled at the predictable surprise from some that Anne and he were married and fellow students with Roy, however as eyes turned from Anne to her rather dashing husband, most of the women couldn't help looking rather enviously at the tall, red-headed girl. Gilbert was at his most charming with both young and old, and Anne scowled at him for poking fun at her stately manner- especially in the face of the simpering young ladies.

"You are enjoying this entirely too much."

"Of course I am," he admitted, grinning. "I love it when you get riled up. I thought you were going to set that last girl on fire with your glare."

Anne huffed, glad for a moment of respite from the crowd. "She looked as if she was sizing you up for a suit, Gil."

"I like the one I have, thank you." He looked around them, and a bored groan left him. "Do none of these people grow tired of the fuss?"

Anne could see the look on Roy's face as another hopeful debutante was presented to him nearby, and she fought to rein in a giggle. "I should say that they do- oh, poor Roy and Dorothy."

Christine Stuart soon swung by the couple with another of her brother's approved escorts, waving coyly at Gilbert on her way past. She had swept up to them earlier in the evening with a breezy greeting, magnificent in deep-orange silk. There was a brief moment of amused congratulation, and she threw a teasing comment toward Roy before allowing herself to be drawn out to the dance again. Curiously enough, Dorothy was rather cool to her, as Anne noted. The youngest Miss Gardner had kept up an amusing commentary of the various people who came and went, one that had Phil in stitches- and Anne couldn't help but laugh at the antics of the two girls, foreseeing that Dorothy's addition to the social crowd at Patty's Place would happen quickly.

A short time later, while Gilbert was talking with the president of the Lambs and a professor she had seen around Redmond, Professor Winston approached her, having waited for the throngs of people to disperse.

"Well done, Anne. It's not easy to address this crowd," he said cheerfully.

"You speak from experience, Professor?"

He shrugged. "Far too often, for my taste. Still, colleges must compete for scholarships." He turned to her then, frowning. "Speaking of which, I reviewed scholarship applicants from Queens last week- and was most surprised to discover that you were an Avery scholarship recipient, six years ago."

Anne blinked at him, startled. "Well- yes."

"Why on earth didn't you use it?"

Anne paused, swallowing. "It was a matter of timing, sir. Soon after I won the scholarship, my- Matthew died. I couldn't leave Marilla alone- and so I refused the scholarship to stay with her."

The older man was silent for a moment. "Did you know what you were giving up, child?" he asked, bewildered. "Several thousand dollars worth of tuition-"

There was the familiar hint of green in Anne's grey eyes, and her chin rose. "I knew exactly what I was giving up, Professor. It was the right thing to do. And I still came here, just as soon as I was free to do so."

There was a slight smile on Professor Winston's face, as he regarded one of his best students. "I suppose two years hardly matters, at your age. Besides- I imagine Mr Blythe might not have fancied being several years behind you."

Anne made to answer, however she stopped and smiled at the sound of Gilbert's chuckle nearby. "He would have been very happy for me," she said. "However, I believe it has all worked out for the best."

"Do you honestly think so?"

Anne glanced at the professor in surprise. "Yes. Of course."

"Even with having to marry him under threat of expulsion?"

Anne turned to him then, a look of steel on her face. "I am not saying that Professor Hallett's 'punishment' was either necessary or right- I would never agree to that- and yet I do believe that for Gilbert and I, that it was the right thing to choose- and we are very happy that we did so."

Professor Winston was thoughtful and finally nodded. "I confess, I am relieved that you see it that way. It weighed on me to see you pushed into that situation."

There was a pause then, and Anne looked out on the people, her thoughts now racing as someone approached the professor from his other side. Where would they have been by now if she had not gone into that tent, that day? Still at Patty's Place with the girls? Would Gilbert still have been working toward medical school? Perhaps- somehow- they might have been together by now.

She was startled to find her hand seized and pumped energetically by Mr Cross then, who beamed at her across her professor.

"Mrs Blythe, that was truly wonderful! No wonder Emile wants you to write- you did write about this, didn't you? To think that in this day and age- well, it wasn't too much worse when I was a boy, I must admit," he admitted openly. "Young Mr Gardner has some good ideas- not that ideas alone will help the children. I admit I was more concerned with them being adopted out quicker than I was about the impact of time spent living in that place- and yet both sides must be addressed, don't you think? Perhaps you would be interested in coming to my presentation to the board on Tuesday evening."

Gilbert must have had some sense that he was needed, and Anne felt him come behind her, his hand gentle on her waist. She looked up at him with a faintly bewildered expression, to see him nod at the other gentleman. "I think that depends on the demands of college, sir. Are we busy then, Anne?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, she gathered her thoughts to smile at the older man. "We are engaged on Tuesday night, I am afraid. However, if you would like to come for supper on Monday evening, Gilbert and I will be at home- and we can discuss your presentation then if you would like."

He nodded. "Quite right! I mustn't keep you from your studies- Emile won't thank me for that, will you, old fellow?"

There was a little more conversation then on Neil's soon-to-be-published book, and then the two older gentlemen moved away to the refreshment table, leaving Gilbert and Anne alone.

"Thank you," she said, in relief. "He just surprised me. I really have no desire to be there, that night."

"It was quick thinking on your part. Or are we really busy on Tuesday?"

Anne chuckled, then, reaching up to adjust his tie. "We really are. The graduation committee is meeting at the Mushroom, remember?"

Gilbert's eyebrows flew up. "Ah- I'd forgotten."

"You were the one who invited them into our home, Mr President," she teased quietly, before noticing that one of the gentlemen she had seen talking to Gilbert was approaching. His nod to her was polite, however, his attention immediately turned to her husband.

"Must go, I'm afraid- I don't handle these late nights the way you young folk can. Blythe, come and see me on Monday morning. The Aster building at eight."

"Certainly, sir."

The older gentleman then took Anne's hand, his smile amused. "It's been a pleasure to see your work, Mrs Blythe. Winston is right to be proud. And if I may say so, I very much look forward to seeing what the pair of you can accomplish together."

The moon was high when the Gardner coachman left a yawning Phil and Jo at Patty's Place, and Anne settled back in the darkness of the carriage to watch Gilbert. His curly head was laid back against the seat, and he had closed his eyes, making her smile. The sway of the carriage and the steady clip of the horses' hooves was soothing, and Anne slipped her slippers off to stretch her toes luxuriously after the ache of the unforgiving marble tiles. She snuggled into his side as they wound down the hill, thinking of the conversation she had had with her professor. Surely, they would have ended up in this place together anyway- surely her heart would eventually have understood how dear Gilbert was to her!

Anne dreamily watched the street lamps flicker as they drove by. Perhaps it would have happened at a dance- or a quiet night at Patty's Place when she would have glanced up to see him looking at her with the glance that was only for her. Little touches, little moments- the almost-kisses that Gilbert had teased her about, making her laugh and blush at her own obliviousness over the years. What if he had done it? She felt him stir beside her, and his brown curls brushed her cheek.

"And just what has you smiling like that?" he murmured.

Her smile blossomed further, and she turned to him in the moving carriage. "Oh, I was just wondering how you and I might have come together, if not for the scandal and enforced marriage."

Gilbert chuckled. "I'm just thankful that it happened."

"No, it would have in any case," Anne said thoughtfully. "I'm quite sure of that. I didn't fall in love with you after we were married- that was all well in place beforehand."

Only minutes later, the coachman was helping Anne from the carriage, tipping his hat respectfully at the pair before he drove away. Anne wrapped her coat around her snugly and reached for Gilbert's gloved hand, tiptoeing past the windows of the boardinghouse that were gradually being overtaken by ivy. The stones crunched underfoot as they made their way to the Mushroom, the gate squeaking terribly.

"I really must oil that," he muttered, wincing at the sound- only for it to be overtaken by a louder one, as the clock in their sitting room began to chime midnight. Anne giggled as her husband's face blanched.

"For Pete's sake, the whole neighbourhood will hear us go in!" he muttered, hunting for his keys. "Why we keep that clock, I don't know."

Anne hopped up and down on aching feet, shivering. "It belonged to Mrs Whitley's grandfather- we can't just be rid of it. Good heavens, Gil, just open the door!"

He wrenched it open just as the last chimes rang into the night, and the couple jumped when a lamp instantly flickered on in one of the back windows of the big house. Gilbert groaned as he saw a familiar figure wrench open the curtains, a harsh silhouette against the light. In a trice he had dragged Anne inside, closing and locking the door with a viciousness that made her double over in laughter.

"He's hardly going to come down here at this time of the night, darling," she said in an attempt to placate him, untangling the train of her gown from her feet.

"I wouldn't put it past him," he grumbled, a grin twisting on his lean face. He took the coat from her and moved to remove his own, musing that he was grateful that he had at least kept the fire burning. His satisfaction, however, gave way to horror at the sound of someone's feet pounding against the path only a minute later, and Anne and Gilbert stared comically at the door.

"BLYTHE!" Charlie Sloane's voice bellowed.

In a lunge, Gilbert opened the door to drag his irate friend inside. "What are you doing, making that ungodly noise at this hour?" he hissed.

Anne fought to suppress an ill-timed giggle, watching Charlie's face darken, as he pulling the lapels of his dressing gown over his nightshirt together waspishly. "You are in no position to complain! Or is your social life more important than allowing folks around here to get some sleep?"

Gilbert breathed deeply, trying to hold his irritation at bay. "Charlie, we just arrived home-"

"I never thought I would see the day when people from Avonlea would be so inconsiderate- and to someone who has known you a lot longer than that fellow you've been socializing with! I've got a good mind to go to Mrs Wheatley about the ludicrous hours the pair of you keep-"

"Charles-"

"And was it necessary to have his infernal carriage drop you off to the front door? The noise at this time of night is completely uncalled for!"

"You do realise that you're the one shouting, don't you?" Gilbert pointed out.

At this juncture Anne stepped in, seeing that Charlie was inflating with anger rapidly. "We are terribly sorry, Charlie- the benefit ran rather late, you see. You may go right back to bed, and we promise that you will hear nothing further from us tonight. How was your dinner with Miss Stendhal this evening?" she asked desperately, hoping that this would be a pleasant distraction. She had, however, miscalculated.

At this, Charlie's expression became aloof, and he folded his arms across his chest. "The food was tolerable. However, for your information, the lady and I have decided that it is better for us to remain colleagues."

Gilbert exchanged a look with Anne, then. "I'm- sorry, Charlie."

Charlie glared down his long nose. "You needn't be. It was a completely mutual decision."

"Really?"

"Yes. Madeline was most clear on that," he said stiffly. "It's for the best. My mother would prefer me to marry someone who is from the island, in any case."

In the awkward silence, Anne clasped her hands together, detecting real hurt in his goggling eyes. "Charlie, perhaps- would you like to come to tea tomorrow? We can talk about it more if you wish- although I am sure that you would like to have a good night's sleep first," she said kindly.

Their guest seemed to suddenly realise that he was standing in someone's house in a nightshirt and slippers, and tightened his robe with as much dignity as he could muster. "I accept. I will see you tomorrow."

Anne watched him open their door and stalk back toward the boardinghouse in the moonlight, before closing it behind him in bewilderment. "I could have sworn that we were at a ball just half an hour ago. Did Charlie Sloane really just happen?"

"He did," Gilbert replied brightly, moving to put the kettle on the stove. "If that doesn't push us back into the realities life again, I don't know what will."

Anne chuckled, reaching up to tug a pin from her red hair. Gilbert leant back against the counter, maneuvering her against his chest as he went after the rest of them. He worked in silence for a moment, feeling the tension seep from her body as her hair tumbled down her back. When he was done, he ran his fingers through the thick locks, smiling at the deep sigh that went through her. "Better?"

She hummed in satisfaction, and pushed away from him with a little smile, telling him that she would be back after she had changed into her nightgown.

Gilbert pulled teacups from the shelf and busied himself by stoking the fire. These little late-night suppers were becoming one of his favourite times of the day, as their schedules grew busier- and even the pleasure of having her on his arm that night did little for the desire to have Anne all to himself. He followed her into the bedroom to change, grinning at the sound of her humming a waltz through the door of the annexe.

By the time Anne reappeared in the living room in her creamy nightgown, Gilbert had spread cushions and blankets before the fire, and a tray carrying bread and butter beside him. A steaming teapot sat on the hearth, and he looked up with a grin at her soft chuckle.

"You didn't eat enough at the party tonight?"

"Not even close. And you didn't eat anything- or not that I saw, love."

"Oh, Dorothy made sure that I had some fruit between people."

She was quiet then as he buttered the bread, and he studied her surreptitiously. "You know, I was thinking that tonight could open up all kinds of opportunities for you," he said carefully. "I had some very influential people asking me what the celebrated Mrs Blythe intended to do after college."

Anne shook her head, her pale face sober. "I didn't do it for that reason, you know that."

Gilbert sighed, reaching back to pull her into his side. "No. But that doesn't mean something couldn't come out of it."

She took her time pouring the tea, before meeting concerned eyes. "I did want to escape back to real life, tonight. Not for the reasons you might think," she corrected, with a small smile on her face. "Roy and Dorothy were lovely, and even Mrs Gardner improved in civility as the night went on." She ignored Gilbert's snort and continued. "It wasn't even the speech. I- just couldn't see that tonight would make any difference, doing things their way. The governors, the patrons; they exist in a foreign world to those children. I don't doubt that their intentions are good- but Roy was right that it won't be simple. Some of the board tonight asked me to defend my position that things needed to change- they asked what I could possibly know- and one of their wives even suggested that as a married woman, perhaps my time could better be spent looking after my own household rather than attending college with you!" she said crossly.

Gilbert laughed and bent to kiss her red head, his arm around her waist. "Come on, you know that attitude is fast dying out. Even Mrs Lynde is bragging about you getting your BA soon. Why care for the opinions of the few?"

Anne chuckled, slipping down to lay her head against his flannel pyjama-clad leg. "I don't, really. And most of the people were kind. I suppose I was thinking more about the future- of other girls who are in that orphanage, longing for a chance to prove themselves."

He ran his fingers through her red curls, his look warm. "We'll find them, Anne."

"We?" she murmured, turning to look at the face above her.

Gilbert only shrugged. "Yes, we. We're involved now, sweetheart. You were planning to go there anyway- did you think I'd let you do it alone?"

"I could-"

"Of course you could. But you don't need to." He smiled, picking up his mug of tea. "Did I tell you that the Head of the Cooper committee was there tonight?"

Anne groaned. "Gil, tell me it wasn't someone that I inadvertently offended."

"On the contrary. He told me I was a very lucky man. You impressed him very much."

"You are the one who is supposed to be impressing him!"

"Please, that was never in doubt," he scoffed, laughing at the lazy swat Anne aimed at his shoulder. "I told you, tonight wasn't about me- although I can't deny that being there tonight would have looked good."

Anne sat up then, a slight frown on her face. "I suppose so." She seemed to struggle to find the words then, as she gave a small sigh. "It worked, then."

"What did?"

"Us marrying."

Gilbert's eyebrow rose, and he teasingly tugged on the curls that brushed his shoulder. "I rather thought that the two of us being head over heels in love and happy meant that it worked."

"Of course, that," she said impatiently, turning to face him. "I meant, as far as the college is concerned. Professor Daniels took a situation that could have easily been catastrophic for you and me, and not only made us respectable but influential, so to speak."

"I'm not seeing the negative side of that," Gilbert said mildly.

He smiled as Anne shifted herself to settle herself sleepily between his legs on the floor, cuddling back against his broad chest. His arms surrounded her, as he waited for her to continue. "You and I- we grew together, here."

"Yes."

"I'm not ungrateful," she said slowly. "And perhaps people are right. Perhaps tonight proves that we can seriously think about all that we might accomplish together. However, I confess that I am more interested in who we are together, rather than what we will do out there."

"Well, so am I," Gilbert said logically.

Anne was quiet for so long that he had begun to wonder if she needed to go to sleep when she suddenly spoke. "Would it be so terrible for us to imagine a life that doesn't contain the exploits people seem to expect of us, but just a lifetime of quiet happiness?"

He was silent before the crackling fire, thinking. Finally, he shifted her heavy curls over one shoulder to nuzzle her neck, his arms wrapping around her tightly. "Our future can be whatever we want it to be, sweetheart," he murmured. "All of it. Perhaps we're just tired, right now- that won't always be the case."

"I don't know that it's tiredness," she said stubbornly, turning in his arms to study his face. "When I think about the girl I was; the grand dreams of what I could do in this world- I wonder if I was trying to prove something to myself. That I was worth saving." His hands squeezed her waist then, hazel eyes darkening in compassion. Anne smiled though, smoothing over his puckered forehead with her fingertips. "I was looking around the ballroom tonight, complete with diamond sunbursts and marble halls, of all things," she jested, loving the way his sudden laughter moved through her. "And I couldn't help thinking that whatever we accomplish- whatever great things we are expected to do with what we have been given, it won't eclipse what we already have here."

"I know." Gilbert's smile twisted as his forehead touched hers. "This was my dream, love. Long ago- long before I had any right to do so, I dreamt of a home with a hearth-fire, a cat and a dog, the footsteps of friends, and you."

"You have most of those things now," she whispered, blushing a little as his hands pulled her onto his lap snugly. "Even the cat."

He laughed then, knowing that Rusty was skulking around the stove for warmth. "Much to my eternal surprise, yes." He pressed a hard kiss to her waiting lips, before turning to lay his wife on the rug, his arms surrounding her slim form. "He was right- I'm the luckiest man alive." He pulled back to stare into her grey-green eyes, his heart melting at the tenderness he found there. "We're going to have a good life together," he said quietly, much as he had fifteen months earlier. "We'll work hard. We'll see our dreams fulfilled, and as many of our ambitions as we can fit in. But this here, you and I, is what I want more than anything."

Anne's reply was not in words and the faint guilt that had followed her through the past weeks abated. The fire crackled and popped comfortingly as the couple lay together with quiet laughter and teasing kisses under the quilts, and the delight of precious time together. When the clock chimed two in the morning, the couple lay sound asleep on their makeshift bed, with a strong arm as Anne's pillow. Gilbert had wrapped himself around her tightly, his hand snuggling peacefully between her breasts as the fire gradually died down to glowing embers. Rusty prowled around the pair when all was still, disdaining the blankets that Gilbert had dragged over them. Eventually, he left them in peace to find his own slumber.

He slept on Gilbert's pillow instead.