5. Leslie's Wedding
December arrived on silver winds. Winter had been very mild for the Maritimes that year and the flora wore none of the pinched, frozen look that usually accompanies the season. Porcelain fine skies spread palely overhead and soft chains of clouds scudded gently across the horizon.
Wedding preparations were all but complete. Down at the little House of Dreams a seasonal sprucing had been undertaken. The rooms had been swept and dusted by the girls, having lain dormant these last couple of months, and outside Gilbert had raked the garden, while Marshall Elliott and Owen Ford had trimmed the Lombardies on the lane. Back at Ingleside, Susan was most definitely at the helm, happily charged with creation of the wedding breakfast for the guests after the ceremony. As foretold, an innocent bystander would have been forgiven for thinking that she was preparing to feed the five thousand, such was the amount of food she was planning, and yet still the maid of Ingleside constantly fretted that they wouldn't have enough to satisfy everybody's stomachs.
"Susan, dear, we have enough food to feed an army, let alone a "small and select" wedding party, as Miss Cornelia is calling it!" laughed Anne. "I'm sure that we have enough, and more besides! We have a full tureen of vegetable soup with your wonderful freshly baked bread, a side of ham that is fairly elbowing for space on the table next to the broiled chickens and roast beef, potatoes done three ways, preserves, not to mention all the pies; and we have so many different types of dessert on top of the wedding cake I fear the doctor is going to be eating wedding puddings for a month!"
"Oh well," admitted Susan, "At least it's not something he will likely become tired of. I will say, I never cooked for a more appreciative man than the Doctor when it comes to my strawberry crumble."
"You are famed for your baking, Susan dearest, and rightly so," mollified Anne with her warm smile, "The Doctor is the envy of the menfolk in the Glen for his table."
"Ah, well, Mrs. Doctor, dear" said Susan, "I may not have had the chance to marry, and nor do I see it being likely to happen, but I do like to think that if it were suddenly thrust upon me, I would not let myself down with my kitchen skills." And with a secretly vastly flattered heart she trotted off back to her realm.
The day of Leslie's wedding day dawned crisp and clear. Overnight, the lightest flakes of snow had fallen, barely covering the brown earth, but just enough to frost over the rose bushes in the garden of the House of Dreams. A white shimmer dusted the tops of the quahog shells put there by Captain Jim many moons before. Every branch and stem was finely outlined in glittering white giving the whole picturesque scene an enchanted, ethereal spark.
"Oh how lovely!" whispered Leslie to Anne, as she gazed out of the casement to the garden below. She had spent her final night as a single woman in the little House, happily chatting with Anne before a comforting, crackling driftwood fire, and now they were dressing there before the ceremony. They were alone - Little Jem had stayed up at Ingleside with Susan, who was running around like a thing possessed to ensure that everything in preparation for the wedding breakfast ran like clockwork. Miss Cornelia was due along in an hour to assist with the adorning.
"Oh, perfect, just perfect" murmured Anne in low agreement, joining her friend at the window. "Just like fairyland. See, even the snow sprites are making sure that everything about your day of days is perfect! I'm so happy for you, dearest," she said, slipping her arm through her friend's. "I can only wish you the same happiness that Gilbert and I have known, but if you have that, t'will be enough."
"And I thought I never would know a happiness like the one you and Gilbert know," said Leslie seriously. "To think that the love I used to envy horribly in you is in my heart and hands now! It makes me ashamed for ever feeling that way, almost as though I shouldn't deserve it."
"Come now, none of that talk, today, or from any day forward Leslie, dearest! Your life begins now, and your happiness will only grow from this moment on! Now I am going to do my proper duty as a good matron-of-honour and make sure you eat just a leetle something on your wedding morning. Swooning brides were all well and good in our Story Club of old, but not so suited to modern practicalities!"
They breakfasted lightly and laughed and talked of the day ahead. Miss Cornelia arrived to help Leslie prepare and lent a motherly air to the proceedings. About an hour before the ceremony, Leslie's laughter died down; she became pensive and slightly remote. Anne saw the faraway look in her eyes that comes to all true brides on their day of days. Leslie spoke not as the satin material was slipped over her golden head, and made no murmur as Anne threaded delicate white hothouse buds through her hair – and one precious, velvety red one. All the while Leslie just stood there looking out sea with an expectant air, lips parted and a faint flush staining her ivory cheek.
The wedding party was a 'small and select' number, as Miss Cornelia had maintained. The Minister, of course, and Anne and Gilbert; the Elliotts' - Marshall was giving her away; old Doctor Dave, who had brought Leslie into the world and his wife, the jolly, silver-haired Mrs. Doctor Dave; Uncle Isaac West and his family and a few 'over harbour' folk who had known Leslie since birth. The grooms guests were made up of Owen's father, a dashing, older version of his son; he was visiting for the wedding with his two maiden twin aunts; two dear, white-haired old ladies who reminded Anne of a pair of gentle little birds. A young lady by the name of Amelia had also come up with the Ford party, a delightful, vivacious thing of sixteen, dark of hair, fine of brow and pink of cheek. Originally the daughter of a close neighbour of the Aunts, she had been orphaned as a baby and had been under their kind and loving guardianship ever since; she was a sweet, fine souled and unspoilt creature, and Anne immediately felt a kinship with the child.
The weather gods had listened to the prayers sent their way, and the weather held beautifully, so outside the ceremony was. The guests gathered in the Winter clad garden as Leslie glided out of the House of Dreams escorted by a proud Marshall Elliot, to the waiting, adoring arms of Owen Ford.
It was a sweet, informal affair, in the perfect setting. The rose bushes, bare and stark, stood as spiky sentinels encasing the little garden, as if protecting the lovers in a ring of enchantment. The little cottage seemed aware of it's own importance as a defender and protector of love, standing patient and true as ever in the background. The sky was a milky opal and the wind a gentle, charming breath , with the murmuring sea acting as a Neptune-led choir. The sun had even made an appearance, in the form of a soft, dim, halo of light suspended in the Winter sky.
But Leslie; she looked so beautiful that Anne could only wonder if she was really a human being like the rest of them, or secretly an enchanted angel sent to walk with mortals. Her ivory dress fitted her magnificent figure like a glove, the bodice embroidered delicately with seed pearls. The folds of the dress dropped at her feet in small pools of silk, giving her the appearance of a driad at her own secret woodland pool. Her golden hair garlanded, she wore no other adornments, but no other gilding was needed. Her star-like eyes were clear and blue, her cheeks still held their morning blush and her lips against her creamy skin were a wondrous red.
Owen looked upon his bride, walking towards him like a beautiful saint, and his heart overflowed with the love that burst forth within him. He could scarcely countenance the reality, as he looked upon her beautiful face and knew, doubtlessly, that this woman before him, whose loving nature and passionate spirit found match only with her peerless looks, had enslaved him for all eternity. He knew what riches fate had given him in Leslie, what a prize he had found, and he intended to treasure her always. To guard her from harm, fill her heart with joy, to show her the things on God's earth that would feed her soul and satisfy her spirit. Leslie, looking at her husband to be, just had a fleeting thought of , "Can this really be happening to me? this lovely dream?" before Owen took her hands in his and the Minister began his wedding prayer.
And so, the little House of Dreams saw its fourth bride, and collected another joyous memory to its breast. Once the congratulations and kisses had been shared and the Minister had left, people climbed into the waiting buggys and carts that were to transport them back up to Ingleside. Susan met them at the steps with a laughing Little Jem in her arms, who wriggled ad stretched out chubby arms to Anne when he saw his mother.
The feast was a credit to Susan's talents, and she was amply rewarded with the many compliments that were sent her way as the guests tucked in She had outdone herself on the cake front, creating a confection that surpassed even Mrs. Charlie Carson's doomed masterpiece. The kind things said about her efforts turned the faithful maid fairly pink with pleasure.
A few other people arrived from the Glen to help with the celebrating and the feasting was bright and gay. The weather stayed fine enough for people to stand both inside and out, and Ingleside was a whirl of merriment.
As the light started to fade from the afternoon, the bridal carriage, driven by Miss Cornelia's husband, pulled up at the front of the house to collect the newlyweds. All of a sudden, everyone was rushing round; last minute goodbyes were cried and promises of future letters to and from Europe were made. As Gilbert was putting the last trunk on the rack, Leslie drew Anne to one side and put her arms about her friend. Her blue eyes, sapphire-like, sparkled with happiness and her whole, uplifted soul shone out through their brightness. They looked at each other and laughed as they drew each other close. Then Leslie grew serious.
"Anne, you know exactly what I'm thinking and feeling right now, you always have done, and I have told you my innermost thoughts before now too so I won't waste time by telling you again. But I will just say a small thing on this, my happiest of days; before you and Gilbert came to Four Winds I hadn't known what joy there was to be found in the world and without you, and without Gilbert's help, I don't think I might ever have known! Even before Owen came, your friendship had opened up a world for me from which I thought I was ever debarred. You gave me my freedom and a new life, and I will always be in your debt for that!"
"Nonsense!" laughed Anne "I would hate to think that you felt indebted to me or Gilbert, and your dear friendship has paid me in sweetness and loyalty many times over since I came to Four Winds. How glad I am to be kindred spirits with the beautiful goose-girl, the first inhabitant of my new hometown I ever set eyes on!"
Owen helped his lovely bride into the carriage and climbed up beside her, a pride on his face that reminded Mrs. Doctor Dave of the night Gilbert had first brought his red-headed little wife to Four Winds – her nephew had worn the same look. Amidst laughter, hearty throwing of rice by Susan and the young Amelia and well wishes from all, the Fords set off for the station.
Leslie turned at the bend in the road and waved her last, her face so full of love and joy it brought tears to Anne's eyes. Then the buggy turned the corner and they were gone, driving off to a new life of love and adventure. The guests sighed, smiled and turned back to the house. Susan was offering another cup of freshly brewed tea and slices of cake to fortify the party in readiness for their own trips home.
Anne stayed at the gate for a minute, wiping away some soft, quiet tears. Gilbert put his arm about his wife and looked down at her with smiling eyes.
"It was a lovely wedding for them, wasn't it, Anne-girl? If Ford gets half the wife in Leslie as I have found in you, he'll be a contented man. Here's wishing them all the good fortune for as a happy a life as we lead, ey?"
Anne rewarded Gilbert with a light, contented kiss. "What a nice, husband-y thing to say." She said happily. Oh, Leslie was the bride of my dreams." Sighed Anne, tucking her handkerchief away. Wasn't she beautiful?"
"She was, she was. No-one could ever dispute Leslie's beauty. But every man thinks he has found the most beautiful angel on earth, in his own wife, as I do with you, Anne-o'mine". Gilbert replied lovingly. "A happier life I could not lead, as long as I have you by my side!"
And arm in arm, they walked up the path to their home together, surrounded and encompassed with love.