Well, I'll say this- you have this chapter courtesy of a rather vile flu type bug. I was meant to be working all wekend, but had to stay at home in bed writing instead! Oh, the horror! Seriously, I'm very grateful. Thank you to everyone who had read, favourited and of course reviewed- I'd like to say I'm cool as a cucumber about it- but the truth is I still get wildly excited at every blip on my emails. This is the bonus chapter- I couldn't skip straight to the wedding, so here is the day before. I've loved this journey- and I'm so grateful for all of you who have come on it with me. Thank you.

All my love, Cate.

Three…..

Chapter 40

On the day before the wedding, Anne made a pilgrimage on her own to the shore. She sat high on the sand dunes, looking out over the bright waters in the morning sunshine. She drew in a deep breath, loving the feel of the salt breeze against her skin. Diana had offered to go with her, however, Anne had been surrounded by people for days now, and wanted time and space to think. She smiled, watching the gulls swooping low over the water, their harsh cries sounding in the distance. It was wild and free- everything her soul craved at that moment.

All lay in readiness for the morrow- Susan and Miss Cornelia had cellars and pantries overflowing with a feast fit for the king, and Diana had insisted that Anne's wedding dress and other clothing be left solely in her capable hands. Phil and Jo were arriving on the afternoon train, according to Phil's letter. Anne smiled. Susan had anxiously suggested to Sonia that the two households have a quiet evening, who had immediately agreed. Phil and Jo would visit with them that afternoon, and then they would return to Gilbert's house, where Sonia was industriously preparing to host the young minister and his wife. Their room was only small, something Phil had instantly been dismissive about in her letter- "Darling, just to be present at your wedding is a blessing- and you remember the broom cupboard I slept in at Patty's place- anything has to be larger than that was. Jo and I can snuggle up anywhere."

Anne chuckled. She would not have much opportunity see her beloved friend- although she knew that Phil planned to be over at the cottage as early in the morning as she could possibly be to help her get ready. As it was, Sonia was at the helm of Gilbert's house, while Susan and Diana had assured her that all was under control in their own. So thoroughly was everything taken care of, that Anne found herself superfluous for the day- even Gilbert would be busy. Sitting on the beach, she shivered slightly in the warm wind, thinking of the big house that lay ready for the following day. Gilbert had been adamant that she not visit the house, despite Anne's quiet but pink-cheeked protest that she had planned to help prepare their home. At this, his lips had silenced her, and she was sternly told to trust him, and not set foot in the place until after the wedding. The twinkle in his hazel eyes was evident, and with good grace, Anne acquiesced.

She had needed the time away from everything if she was honest. Her life had been a whirlwind of activity since the day she had told Gilbert she loved him- since the day he had proposed, now almost three months ago. Anne lifted the skirts away from her foot, rolling her stocking down to examine her leg. She smiled, looking at the neat pink line that ran down her leg- several times Jeremy had called on her to admire his skills, and with amusement, she had done her best to meet his level of enthusiasm. Diana had taken her to Gilbert's office to meet with Jeremy the previous day- and as Jeremy boasted about the improvement in her gait, Diana had turned laughing eyes to Gilbert, who sat back at his desk with a contented look.

Anne gave a little sigh. Would she choose to keep her scars, if she could?

She turned her face into the wind, letting the it soothe her before looking out to the horizon again. Suddenly, a conversation with Marilla's from long ago came to her mind. Only weeks after Matthew's death, she had been shooed away from the washing one afternoon by Marilla. Anne instead sat down on the kitchen step to keep her company, wistfully looking out into the August sunshine.

"Would you change it all?" she'd asked her guardian suddenly.

Marilla looked up sharply. "Change what, Anne?"

Anne gestured around her helplessly and sighed. "All of it. If you could go back. Not adopting someone sooner- an older boy could have been running the farm for you by now. Staying in Avonlea with your parents. Not continuing your schooling when you wanted to, Marilla. Even you and- and Mr Blythe." The last had been almost whispered, and Marilla looked at her piercingly.

"I dare say I would, if it came to that. But it doesn't follow that it wasn't right. God alone knows what's best."

She wasn't surprised to see the look of bewilderment cross the girl's face, and sighed. Still little more than a child, with enough hurt behind her sixteen years to understand only too well that one's path could be affected by things outside of her control.

"Marilla, how could it be God's plan for us to lose Matthew?" she had whispered. "What does it serve Him to have us hurting?"

Marilla's look was stern, and she set down the basket firmly. "That's when we need to trust, Anne. We can't know why- or what would have happened, we can only know what did happen. We do the best we can with what we are given- and for the rest, we need to have faith."

Anne drew in a deep breath in the present, looking at the big clouds building in the distance to the east. Of course Marilla had been right. And yet, Anne was only too aware that she would change it- she would change everything if she could. It wasn't in man's power to not want to escape pain.

She would have asked someone to help her with the boxes that day in Summerside- she would have gone home when Marilla asked her to. She would have spoken to Gilbert sooner, gone into his arms at the Redmond dance, the pink enamel heart proudly against her throat for him to see. She would not have been sidetracked by Roy- and she would have changed everything in the orchard. She would have asked Gilbert for more time to know her own heart.

Here, Anne smiled, her look wistful as she scanned the frothing waters breaking onto the sand. She knew Gilbert Blythe. He would have done as she requested, a little light of hope beginning to shine in his hazel eyes, and perhaps the fear of losing her would have subsided over time, the fear that had made him act unwisely. A little chuckle broke from her lips, then. He would have laid his campaign for her heart walking home from Patty's Place that same day- and she well knew the Blythe determination to succeed. They would have walked together through life, hand in hand, with no memories that didn't belong to each other.

Still, as Anne Shirley sat on the beach on the day before her wedding to the man she had long loved, she drew in a long breath, looking out to the horizon with clear grey eyes. Their pasts had led them together again- they had been given another chance. Anne smiled. Together they would make up for every past hurt, every misunderstanding, every year they had lost. She looked down at her leg with a sigh and smiled. It wouldn't matter any longer.

A shadow fell across Anne, then, and she cried out in shock to see Gilbert's tall form standing above her.

"Gilbert Blythe don't do that! Do you want me to live to be your bride?" she said indignantly.

He hunkered down beside her, his look amused. "I've been calling out for some distance- I haven't seen you so lost in your thoughts for ages, sweetheart."

She chuckled then, as his arm came around her waist. "I think I just needed to get away for a time- I needed some space to think."

"As long as you aren't thinking about changing your mind about the wedding-" Gilbert said dryly, making her laugh.

"Only wishing we had done it sooner, Gil." She turned to him, puzzled. "What are you doing here? I thought you would be busy most of the day?"

He bent to kiss the top of her head, before leaning back contentedly on his palms, watching the movement of the distant waves. "I am. But I badgered mother until she came up with an errand for me to run to the cottage- and Di told me you were here. I wanted to see you."

She smiled. "You'll see me for tea this afternoon, Gil."

He pounced then, making her laugh as he pulled her down to lay on the sand with him. "I can't do this, then," he murmured, kissing her pink lips.

She put her arms around his neck with a sigh. "That is true."

Gilbert's hand stroked up and down her waist lovingly, and he studied her face. "Are you alright?"

She gave him a considering look, her hand stroking his chin. "Yes- perhaps just a little overwhelmed. Everyone is running around busily, but not wanting me to help at all- it makes me feel terribly rootless."

Gilbert sighed, leaning down to rest on her shoulder, smiling as her hands caressed his brown head. "It's nearly over, now."

Anne grimaced. "And I don't want to view it like that, either- it's our wedding day. Shouldn't we enjoy it?"

Gilbert lay back on the sand then with a sigh then, taking her hand in his. "Of course we should- but to me, the real marriage is something that happens between us- something that doesn't involve flower arrangements, or dresses or enough food to sink a fleet of ships."

Anne chuckled. "I quite agree with you, dearest- you know that I would love nothing better than to marry you deep in the woods, far from civilization- but since we need to do this, shouldn't we appreciate it while it is happening?"

Gilbert's eyes were closed, and he smiled. "There's my idealist," he commented, amused. "You're right, though. And for everyone else's sake, I will attempt to compliment the napkins, and eat the cake, and talk to our friends and family as if I wasn't impatient to leave with you."

"As will I."

He looked across at her then, his eyes yearning, and when she turned to him, she smiled. She brought herself up on one elbow, her hand smoothing over the fabric of his casual shirt. "What have you yet to do, today?"

Gilbert smiled, tugging her so that she lay against him in the sand. "I have to prepare our house for us."

Anne's cheeks flushed. "Oh. Was there a reason you didn't want me there to help?"

"Yes. A good one." His hand tangled in her red hair then, pulling down to kiss her deeply. "I don't want you to see it until tomorrow. And to be quite honest, I'm not sure I would control myself well at all, with you there."

Anne laughed then, her grey-green eyes twinkling. "And I suppose you think this is controlling yourself?" she teased, from her place on his chest. He grinned at her.

"Reasonably, yes." He sighed, stroking her soft cheek. "I want it to be a surprise for you, sweetheart."

Anne was silent for a moment and then turned to him with an innocent look. "Have you given any thought to the fact that I need to get changed, tomorrow night?"

Gilbert's eyes twinkled. "Of course I have. The other bedroom will be made available to you for that purpose."

Anne rolled her eyes. "Tell me, darling- why is it that bride must dress in 'suitable night attire'- Mrs Lynde's words from her latest letter, with what I imagine are largely unnecessary instructions-" she smiled, seeing the way his eyebrows rose into his hairline. "-while the groom is considered simply ready as he is?"

He chuckled, and Anne smiled to see the light flush on his cheeks. "Well, you're prettier than we are. No one wants to see a man in a lace nightgown."

She pouted then. "Why not? I've seen you in a lace bonnet-" she broke off then, as Gilbert's eyes narrowed, and he rolled a laughing Anne onto her back.

"That's enough, Almost-Mrs-Blythe. When are you going to let me live that down?"

She batted her eyelashes at Gilbert then, her arms wrapped around him tightly. "When we are old and grey, dearest. I'll make sure the children don't hear about though. We wouldn't want them thinking it was a habit you had developed."

For the cheek of this comment, his fingers dug into her slender waist, and she squirmed, laughing as he tickled her. After a moment he relaxed, and the two of them were silent for a time.

"Is anything troubling you, Anne-girl?"

She brushed some sand off her neck and turned to him in surprise. "Why, Gil? You are asking that a lot, lately."

He sighed, his hand clasping hers as the long grass blew above them across the dunes. "I'm just checking, I suppose. You're very introspective, of late. I wondered if there was something that was bothering you- about tomorrow, about me-"

Anne shook her head, her look regretful. "No, Gil. We just have some very big changes ahead of us. I suppose I'm asking myself a lot of questions about them, that's all. "

"Like what?"

"Like what will happen to us," she said, her voice quiet. "When will we have our first child? Will it be an easy pregnancy, or will it worry the life out of you the whole time? What if we don't get pregnant at all?" He looked at her in consternation, however, she continued, her eyes troubled. "Will Diana and I grow apart when her house is no longer my refuge from the world? Will I ever be ready to see Green Gables in someone else's care? What will happen to the school? Will I miss teaching? What if I can't make you happy? What if I disappoint you-"

She stopped again, as his lips pressed to hers. "That's enough of that," he whispered, holding her dear face close to his own. "I'm already happy- because of you. And we are going to make each other angry at times, we are going to misunderstand each other and hurt sometimes- and we're going to get past it because we love each other. As to the rest- well, we can't know that, can we? Can you just trust that we will be together, no matter what happens?"

Anne's face looked troubled. "It's foolish to worry- I know that. But we have waited so long to be together- at times I'm frightened that it could all be taken away again."

Gilbert's face was tender as he looked down at her. "I know what you mean- but I'm not going anywhere, Anne. And as of tomorrow, I won't ever need to leave you again. I'll come home to you- not just say goodnight on a cold doorstep."

Anne laughed, hiding her face in his shoulder. "It's just as well. Courting in winter would be quite miserable, I think." She was quiet then and sighed. "I've- I've also wondered how the anniversaries that have hurt us will affect us now."

Gilbert pulled away thoughtfully, helping her to sit up beside him. "I would assume we won't know until we get there, sweetheart." He watched her closely, unconsciously reaching up a hand to rub her leg, and thought that he understood.

"What was it like?" he asked softly. "Last year, I mean."

Anne gave him a faint smile and looked back out toward the sea. "Hard. I didn't know Susan enough to tell her it was the date of the accident- perhaps I should say that I wasn't willing to, really. I didn't let myself. The doctors had told me that a year would show if I was going to get better- after that, there was little chance of improvement. You know what condition I was in back in November- I was still very unsteady. I assumed that the doctors must have been right. There was no more healing to come."

Gilbert scowled. "To a degree, they were right- but did they never mention trying another operation?"

Anne cleared her throat, a droll look on her face. "Oh- Doctor Barnett was most likely unwilling to enter into that discussion again with me, Gil. I did not react too well to the suggestion."

He rolled his eyes. "I can only imagine, Anne." He nudged her then with his shoulder, his look warm. "You needed to keep that fight in you, Anne-girl. I was terrified when I thought you'd lost that."

Anne nodded, brushing her red hair from her eyes. "I didn't. I just had to save it for what really mattered."

Gilbert studied her thoughtful face. "Thank you," he said softly. Anne looked up at him in some confusion, and he smiled. "Thank you for not hiding from me back then." He turned to take her hands in his own, and sighed. "You could rightfully have refused to see me- you could have refused to talk to me at all about anything from the past. I expected it, to be honest."

Anne pulled a hand from his to stroke his cheek, a little smile on her face. "I loved you. It was really that simple."

He smiled, bending forward to touch his forehead to hers. "I love you too. Now, Susan has asked me to fetch you home, sweetheart- so we need to part ways, for now. Come on, I'll see you home."

When the afternoon came, an exuberant Phil rushed up the path of Rosewood cottage with a glad cry, pulling the waiting Anne into a warm hug. "Honey, it's so good to see you! And look at you!"

Anne laughed, pulling back to see her friend better in amazement. "Look at me, Phil, look at you!" she said, as a grinning Phil touched her small, but evident rounded belly. "Phil! You never said a word to me about this!" she scolded, her eyes filled with mirth.

Phil waltzed into the house airily as Gilbert walked up the path with her husband. "Forgive me, honey, but I haven't been able to surprise anyone else- this little one is determined to make herself known. I was showing within two months," she said dryly.

Anne stopped, her mouth quirked. "She?"

Phil's crooked smile was evident, as she rubbed her bump. "I'm quite certain it's a she, Anne. I lost a terrible amount of weight with both of the boys, and with this one, I seem to be eating for a football team. Something is certainly different."

Anne laughed, leading to way to the comfortable veranda, where Susan and Diana had laid out the tea. "I don't know if Gilbert would say that as a clinical certainty, however, I hope you are right- you deserve your own little Phillipa."

The look of dismay was evident on her friend's face. "Good heavens, I do hope not- I was a terrible trial for my parents- as my mother takes great delight in pointing out whenever she is looking after the boys."

"And are they-"

"Good as gold, I promise you, honey, they take after their father entirely. Otherwise, I shouldn't have been able to convince Mama to take them while we came to the island for your wedding."

The introductions were made to Diana and Fred, and as Susan served the tea, insisting that she needed to get back to her oven, the six adults began to visit together in the afternoon sunshine. Phil and Diana had long heard of each other and took great delight in swapping stories of Anne and Gilbert while they sat. Jonas conversed easily with Fred and Gilbert, and for a short time, Anne watched the others in silence, her grey eyes shining with happiness. After not hearing her voice for a time, Gilbert leant closer, squeezing the hand that was in his own. He smiled, seeing the delight on her face.

"What is it?"

Anne turned her face to look at him, her eyes soft. "This. Did you ever think we would be here?"

"I certainly hoped that we would," he murmured, unaware that he had drawn the attention of the others.

"So this is what I missed."

Gilbert and Anne looked up in some shock, to see the others grinning at them, and a triumphant Phil sat with her arms crossed. "I always wondered what the two of you would be like together- are they always so distracted in company?" This, she addressed to Diana.

"Oh, often," Diana said brightly. "Sometimes I suspect that they wouldn't come back from it if they had a choice."

Phil clucked, shaking her head with a slight frown. "I should have sent that letter, you know. I was going to write to you, Gilbert, and to tell you that there was nothing with Roy- that you should try again after college."

This was a fresh shock for Gilbert, and he looked at her in bewilderment- however only Anne could feel the tension in his body. "What- why didn't you?" he asked, attempting to smile. To his surprise, her merry face was sober as she regarded the pair.

"Sometimes interfering can cause a bigger mess. I didn't want to ruin any chance the two of you could have had to work it out on your own."

Anne smoothed her hand over Gilbert's corded arm, smiling at Phil. "It was probably wise. Who knows what kind of mix-ups could have occurred."

Phil sighed, looking at the pair fondly. "And it doesn't matter now, does it? I always did think you the best man for her, Gilbert. You were the only one who made her laugh."

The talk soon turned to Anne's trousseau, and an excited Diana took Phil's arm in her own, to lead her to the garret, where Anne's dresses were laid out carefully. Anne waved them off with a smile, after hearing an ecstatic gasp from Phil to Diana- "The Madame Sylvian of Montreal?"

Anne chuckled, and she watched Fred move from the steps at Guinevere's whinny, with Jo following him down to the barn and the small field that was her home. She could then turn to her fiance, who had stood up and was pacing the veranda, his eyes stormy. She stood up, and moved to his side, her voice gentle. "Gil-"

He raised a hand to cut her off, shaking his brown head. "I know, I know, we shouldn't dwell on the past," he muttered, and Anne chuckled wryly.

"Something we are both struggling with right now, I would say. Why is it that we can have common sense for each other, but not ourselves?"

His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled faintly. "We're two halves of a whole, I suppose. And we've been halved for a long time now."

Anne grimaced slightly as her foot twinged, and she leant against the stone wall of the house for support. She tugged on his hands until he was before her, and looked up into his hazel eyes seriously. "You keep telling me that everything is going to be alright, Gil, that no matter what happens, you won't leave."

"I'd sooner cut my own leg off."

Anne pulled away with a twinkle in her eyes, her nose turning up in disgust. "Must you go down that route to reassure me?"

He chuckled, his hands resting on her waist. "Sorry."

She looked up at him then, her eyes clear. "We both have our scars, Gilbert. We are sensible to remember that. But if you won't leave me, and I won't leave you, then our future seems to be fairly secure, doesn't it? Regardless of what could have- or didn't happen."

Gilbert sighed, his words blunt. "Maybe we're both wrong," he said quietly. "I keep telling you that the past doesn't matter- and you tell me the same- and maybe we shouldn't, anymore. We grieved for all of those years- maybe we need to acknowledge them to be able to move on."

Anne's eyes were on his fearlessly, and she drew in a deep breath. "You're right. But the past doesn't change the fact that we have a future now- and in less than a day, I will be your wife."

His eyes darkened, and he pressed himself against her, his hand resting on the stone wall behind her, the other on the back of her slim neck. She kissed him hungrily, her hands holding his face close to her own. For a minute they were lost in each other's touch, and when Gilbert pulled away, his voice was husky. "And in a little over a day, Anne, I will make you my own."

Her cheeks were flushed, and she chuckled. "What did we say about that? We are already each other's, we are just-"

"Unclaimed." His satisfied grin was on his handsome face, and he bent down to kiss her once more sweetly, sighing as her arms slipped around his neck.

The two of them were suddenly brought back to reality by the door swinging open beside them, and Phil's look was naughty as she turned to a smiling Diana. "And is this something you are used to yet, Di?"

Diana's black eyes twinkled at her new friend. "I don't suppose I'll ever get used to coming across this, Phil."

Anne pushed away from the wall with a scowl on her face, and Gilbert's laughed as she tucked his hand tightly into her own. "Well, you'll have to get used to it, Mrs Wright. We're not going anywhere."

The moment they had had alone was fleeting- from that point in the day, buggies were arriving and leaving the cottage, and the pair were required to greet visitors, take platters of food from people assisting Susan and Miss Cornelia with the catering, and the menfolk got to work in the backyard assembling a makeshift bower that would be wrapped with ivy the following morning. The Wright children were dropped back home by a cheerful Jeremy, who had come on behalf of his future in-laws, who had offered to occupy the three children for the morning. Mrs Winston had assured Diana that her own four grandchildren were often in their home, and that she and Penny would be delighted to give Diana and the cottage household the chance to prepare for the following day.

Anne and Gilbert spent an hour in the little office with the Reverend Jo, who talked to them easily about what they wanted in the service the next day. After he had finished, he asked the pair if they had any questions- and after a shared look, Gilbert spoke quietly about what they had been discussing that day. Jo nodded thoughtfully, watching the pair before him.

"There is a wonderful verse in the Psalms that I often think about- 'Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.'" He smiled at the pair gently. "It didn't tell us that weeping was to be done away with quickly- there is a place and a season for doing so. But when morning comes, the mourning will end. The two of you are on the eve of such a morning, I believe." The smile he gave transfigured his plain face, and he watched them with great love. "Anne, Gilbert, I believe that when tomorrow comes, you won't even need to try."

When the evening grew late, Sonia Blythe chivvied the young people to bed, asserting that everyone needed a good night's sleep. Phil had been yawning for some time, and a droll Mrs Blythe insisted that she head there first, accompanied by a peppermint tea. Jo, Jeremy and Gilbert were then handed hot cocoa and a cookie each, and told sternly to head for their beds themselves.

"Mama, we're not children on the night before Christmas-" Gilbert protested, however before his mother could launch into the full "You will need your strength tomorrow, young man-" discussion, John turned his son towards his bedroom door with a well-hidden grin.

"Mind your ma, Gil. I dare say the extra sleep won't kill you." When all three of the gentlemen had disappeared, he turned to his wife, who was icing cookies in the dim kitchen.

"You did that on purpose," her husband pointed out, amused. "You just wanted the house to be quiet to get more done."

Sonia rolled her eyes. "And they all need sleep- Gilbert especially. It's not every day you get married, now, is it?"

John leaned down to kiss the top of his wife's head with a chuckle. "Alright. I'm heading up, now. Don't stay up too late now."

Inside his room, Gilbert moved slowly to the nightstand, where he placed his drink down. He lit the lamp and sat on the edge of the wide-canopied bed, looking around the nearly empty room thoughtfully. He'd taken most of his clothes to the house that day- all lay in readiness for the following night. His suit hung on the door of the wardrobe, carefully and lovingly pressed by his mother. He smiled at the tie that hung there, one Anne had found for him in Montreal. Slowly, he changed for bed, and pushed back the drapes to allow the moonlight to come in the room. He lay back on the bed with a sigh, watching the movements of the curtains in the breeze. As he adjusted his pillow, he froze, hearing paper rustling underneath. Carefully he sat up and drew out an envelope addressed in Anne's hand. For a moment he simply sat, his heart thumping, until he slit the envelope with his finger and drew out a sheaf of papers from within. He smiled, seeing her familiar writing covering the whole page as she used to do of old, and fell to studying it carefully.

Late that night, Anne was tucked into bed by first Diana, and then Susan, who wasn't at all confident that Diana had done it properly. As the clocks chimed eleven in the sitting room, Anne lay in the dimness, idly twisting her hair around her fingers. She sighed, knowing at once that it was useless to attempt to sleep yet- she was simply awake. She was contemplating tiptoeing out to get a book from the office when she heard a rough voice whisper her name. Anne shot up in bed, muffling a cry in the sleeves of her nightgown when she heard Gilbert's faint chuckle, and she crept over to her window, furious. "Gilbert, this is the second time today, you idiot! Are you trying to kill me?" She opened sash of the window higher, her hand on her chest breathing heavily. "What on earth were you thinking?"

Gilbert looked sheepish. "Oh- er, well, I wasn't asleep."

Anne scowled at him, moving to kneel before the window to see him better. "Is there a reason you are skulking around here so late at night, less than twelve hours before our wedding? If this is you backing out-"

Her voice was cut off suddenly, as Gilbert hoisted himself into the frame, pressing his lips to her own. He pulled back then, his eyes twinkling as he steadied himself. "You know I'm not, Anne-girl. And you started it. Whom did you use to put that under my pillow?"

She relaxed then, her cheeks heating. "So you found it."

"Yes. Who was the messenger?"

Anne smiled. "Your mother. She found the idea charming- and she said that your father wrote to her the night before their wedding as well. Gil, if Susan finds you in here-"

Gilbert bent in to kiss her again, before briefly disappearing to move a box under her window. When he reappeared, he grinned smugly. "And what would she do? Insist that I marry you tomorrow? Done. And we're grown-ups now, Anne. We've got some self-control."

Anne's hand came up to caress his cheek, and she gave him a mischievous look. "Then would you care to explain what you are doing here?"

"I needed to see you, that's all," he said softly. "I read them both- Anne, you're amazing."

She flushed, ducking her head. "They aren't anything special, you don't-"

Gilbert cut her off with a hard kiss that pressed his ribs against the windowsill. "No, don't do that, Anne. Stop hiding. I didn't tell you to write again because you needed a hobby- I told you to write because it is who you are- and because I knew you could do it. They're brilliant." He rested on the sill carefully, almost stumbling over his words. "All along I've felt that there are things that I can't know about you, sweetheart. There was a barrier between us, because I wasn't there for you. I couldn't understand your pain, and it hurt me- I didn't understand how hard you needed to fight to stay alive," he muttered, his hands reaching for her slender body. "But I read it- and I see it now." Anne's big grey eyes were on his in bewilderment, seeing the tear that traced down his lean cheek. "You made me see. That's a gift, Anne. It's not something that should be hidden, or lost, or run from."

Anne raised her eyes to his, a teasing smile that hid her insecurity on her face. "You aren't just flattering me because I will be your wife tomorrow, Gilbert?"

His look was incredulous, and he straightened up. "When did I ever flatter you? I always told you the truth. Half our fights happened because of that."

Anne began to protest and then stopped foolishly. "Oh."

"Yes, Oh." He took her hands in his, wincing at the edge of the wooden ledge. "I know you wanted me to have them for tonight- I know it should have been a sweet moment we shared alone, but I couldn't. I had to tell you what it meant to me tonight."

Anne's eyebrows rose in confusion. "But I didn't hear Hippocrates- I always hear the horses on the road at night."

He grinned. "And wake everyone up by saddling him? I don't think so. I have five other people in my household, and I think all of them would frown on this."

"But I thought we were grown-ups and didn't need to worry about other's opinions," she said cheekily, and he chuckled.

"My mother would not see it like that, and you know it. So I jumped out my window and ran here- hopefully it will tire me out, too." He raised Anne's fingertips to his lips, and held her hand tightly. "The- the last one- Anne-"

Anne's cheeks flushed. "The Shore of Dreams."

He nodded, unable to keep from moving into the window to kiss her again. "It was- beautiful." In the faint moonlight, he could see the heavy flush on her face, and he pulled her closer, his voice ragged. "It's us, Anne. It's here. It's the most sensual, personal- Anne, I worry- I worry that you may tire of this life one day, it's so far from the great dreams we had as children- I worry that you deserve more than just this shore-"

Anne slipped her arms around his neck, silencing his faltering words with her lips, her chest pressed against his tightly. When he was quiet, she held his face close, her eyes closed.

"Our greatest dream was home, Gil. It was, even then. Of belonging and purpose and safety and hope and passion- this is it. You made me dream again- I'd forgotten how." She opened pleading eyes to his, her voice desperate. "This is all I want- a life with you. I wanted to show you- I wrote it to tell you that. Perhaps I didn't-"

Gilbert shook his head in her hands, a faint smile on his face. "No, honey, you did- I suppose it just nudged the biggest thing I'm afraid of. Of you having less than you deserve."

"All I want is you, Gilbert," she said softly.

"And all I want is you." He pressed one last kiss to her lips, and moved back into the frame with a wry smile. "And now I'd better be a responsible future husband, and let you get some sleep. I'm sorry, Anne, it was a crazed impulse- and I'd better hope that my mother never discovers that I'm gone. I didn't even make it look like I was in bed- or close the window."

Anne came to her knees with a little laugh, and through the window, Gilbert helped her to her feet again. Her eyes were brilliant in the faint light. "I'm glad you came," she said softly. "It's the most romantic thing I've ever experienced."

Gilbert grinned smugly. "Yet. Eleven tomorrow?"

Anne nodded and bent down to kiss his beloved head with a smile, and moved to climb into her bed. He watched her for a moment, and with a smile, silently slipped from the window, and Anne could hear his footsteps as they moved along the path into the night.

She then gave a deep sigh, suddenly feeling tired from the long day. She smiled in the dim room, her heart beginning to steady as she drifted off to sleep some minutes later.

Only one more day.