I'm rather intrigued how things might go for Marilla if Gideon did not die. This story deviates from Chapter 9 of The Secrets That We Keep.

"Stop wriggling!" Gideon froze in his spot a crazed grin plastered on his face, and Marilla moved him back to her preferred stance. "Don't be stupid, you'll prick yourself.

He giggled, "it's ticklish." She smacked him gently.

Gideon had persuaded her to try out the sewing machine and she was checking the final touches. She'd been hesitant initially, but Gideon had pleaded with her, "you know ketzele," he'd said one afternoon. "These pants really are falling to pieces. Any chance you could have a go at making me a new pair?" Marilla looked at him shrewdly, she was quite trepidatious about starting the machine up and lacked confidence in the whole affair. "I have a pattern here if you need one," he said.

Looking down at her he noticed once again that her finger was bare. Marilla had been uncomfortable sharing her status as a fiancée. She feared the inevitable questions and subsequent shunning. Not that she wasn't proud of Gideon, but she anticipated a backlash. Regardless she had steeled her spine and planned to wear it to church that Sunday. Matthew with his usual tact had never spoken of its lack and even Gideon understood. Wearing his ring would have repercussions. Nevertheless, he'd commented, "do you not like the ring, ketzele?"

"I adore it. Oh, I don't know. It's just," she sighed. "I'm a coward I guess."

"I mean I understand, but…"

"No, you're right. This is ridiculous."

Gideon took her finger into his mouth, the ring cool against his tongue as Marilla leant into the warmth of him. "When the time is right, you'll let them know."

Standing straight she looked him in the eye, "the time is right, it's always been right. It's me. I dread the response. You're a wonderful man Gideon, never doubt that. My neighbours will judge you harshly and me too of course but know that I adore you. We belong together. I'd do anything for you. I … I …" She was stilled when he caught her mouth and kissed her for long moments causing her to melt into his arms and against his lips, liquefying from her centre outwards as he stroked her hair and caressed her back.

"I'll wear it to church this Sunday," she announced proudly, softening when she watched his pleased expression. "Feels so strange to go without you."

"There's no place for me there."

"I know," she replied sadly. "But it means there'll be questions since you won't ever be there with me."

"I pray in my own way."

"I know you do, but I doubt they'll understand. They'll," she sobbed. "They'll judge me. They'll accuse you of stealing me from my faith."

He had to leave before the end of the week. "I must pick up more of those sewing machines. They're at the dock but they'll sell them to others if I don't get there on time. I have an arrangement with the chandler, but he won't wait."

"I wish you didn't have to," she told him.

"I know ketzele, but you must understand." At her crestfallen expression he softened saying, "maybe once we're married. How about I open a small shop in town instead?"

Marilla gazed up at him in wonder, "really?"

"I'll investigate, I promise. But for now, I must go." They kissed as warm and loving a kiss as had ever been. Marilla half wished she could go with him. The thought of riding through the night with him by her side was alluring. She glanced around the kitchen, half compelled by thoughts of the open road. It had never drawn her before, but Gideon's tales of his nights and days, and the thought of seeing him at his work was intriguing. But she had a place here, tending the house. One day she'd go out with him, but now was not the time. He had a deadline to meet, "it won't be a leisurely journey, ketzele. I want more than anything for you to come with me, but not now." She waved him goodbye from the front gate, gazing after him long after he had turned the corner lost in imaginings of what might have been.

Dressing for church that Sunday was charged as it never had been before. Marilla stood in front of her looking glass for longer than usual so that Matthew called up the stairs asking if she was ready. After a long pause, she placed the ring on her finger almost in defiance.

All her worries were for naught since no one spoke to them anyways. She and Matthew made their way to their pew and sat down. Where they listened, sang, prayed all without much notice from their neighbours. They were considered an odd couple, estranged from their neighbours. Only Rachel would have noticed but she was in confinement.

It was almost with disappointment that Marilla returned home. Having been so charged with the idea of defending her choice having it come to naught felt almost anticlimactic. Still, she mused, at least it was a pleasant morning. Listening to the minister's calming sermon set her up for the week. Marilla could never have said what it was about his words but somehow his theme matched her week, and she would muse upon his words as she went about her daily routine.

Her ring was beautiful, and Marilla found herself fiddling with it in idle moments, wishing she could share her news with someone. It felt odd against her finger as though it were heavier somehow, and she was mindful when she did the washing lest she lose it. The truth would come out eventually, she supposed and until that time it was best to get on with the business of running the farm with her brother like they always had. Nothing wrong with a peaceful life, she said to herself. I might look back on this time fondly in the future.

Gideon returned in due course, full of tales of his adventures. They embraced and he told her that he'd met a Rabbi in one of the bigger towns who agreed to meet her. "He wasn't best pleased," Gideon explained. "But I explained to him you were a mensch and he was happy about that."

"A what?"

"Ach sorry, I described you as an honourable person. Which you are," he said depositing a kiss upon her head. Marilla smiled leaning into him offering her lips to his. She so enjoyed his small declarations of love. Sighing she said, "I wish we didn't have to wait. I want you now."

"Ketzele, I want you more than anything."

"It was sinful before, but if we were married…"

"Mm," he kissed her again and again before she reluctantly pulled apart. He smiled sadly, "I know."

Moving to a pot that threatened to boil over, Marilla busied herself with the dinner preparations and heard Gideon walk away. She sighed, it was almost too much, this waiting and she wished they could lie together. But that's impossible, she told herself. We tried that once and look how that turned out. Absentmindedly she rubbed her stomach remembering how it felt to have a baby in her womb. Shaking the memory out she removed a precariously bubbling pot from the heat and turned to set the table for three.

Matthew had already greeted Gideon when he arrived and had stabled his horse, so the men sat down at the table expectantly without too much fuss. "How was it?" Matthew enquired.

"Went well," replied Gideon wiping a dribble of stew off his chin. "I was able to get a good supply of those sewing machines and offloaded most of them. I'd love to have someone to demonstrate," he said winking Marilla-wards.

Marilla smiled in embarrassment, questioning if she'd ever be brave enough to put her sewing prowess on public display.

Deciding to ignore the undercurrents Matthew reached over for a bread roll, saying, "well now, that sounds excellent. Make much money?"

"Well, it's coming in. Most folks can't pay up front, so I'll be visiting them occasionally to get my money over time."

"What happens if they can't pay it off?"

"I give them a fair bit of time, but eventually if they never do pay, I take the item back. It's never easy and I hate to do it."

"That sounds difficult," Marilla murmured.

"Yes, but I'm a businessman, not a charity. I've paid for those machines; I can't afford to give them away." Marilla cleared her throat and Gideon smiled at her, "too often." Adding, "and only to special people."

A lowering sky greeted them the next morning as they dressed in their Sunday best and prepared to meet with the Minister, Mr Phillips. Marilla had pulled him aside at church and requested a meeting. Mr Phillips was perplexed; he usually knew what in advance what part of their life he would be asked to minister to. But since Marilla was unwed, and to the best of his knowledge not courting, he was at a loss to know why she needed to talk. Additionally, she was not known for questioning scripture or having doubts of faith, so it was a mystery.

His housekeeper led Marilla and a dark haired gentleman into the parlour. He stood up at her approach eyeing the gentleman curiously. Marilla made the introductions and they all sat down. Marilla, Mr Phillips noticed, seemed very nervous which was unusual for she was ordinarily a confident, if quiet woman. "What can I do for you folks?" he said when the introductory chit chat had faded into an uncomfortable silence. "We would like your permission to get married," Gideon said.

Marilla added, "and we're hoping you will conduct the ceremony."

Mr Phillips had detected an unfamiliar accent in Mr Hoffer's voice, but he was perfectly aware that immigrants came to Canada's shores from many places, so that was not necessarily an impediment. The reason for the couple's diffidence soon became apparent when he asked, "tell me about your faith Mr Hoffer. I assume you have taken Jesus into your heart."

Gideon cleared his throat and clutched Marilla's hand. "Er, that is to say no. I'm of the Jewish faith, Mr Phillips. As you probably know we don't believe that Jesus was the Messiah, but…"

But he was unable to continue for Mr Phillips jumped to his feet and started yelling at them, spittle flying he screamed, "get out. Get this apostate out of my house and don't sully my doorstep again." As the couple went to leave, he pulled Marilla back by her arm, saying in a beguiling tone, "what has gotten into you Marilla? You've always been an upstanding member of my congregation, has this man bewitched you? Can you not see that Satan is working through him to cleave you from your faith?"

His fingers pressed into her forearm quite painfully. Marilla tried unsuccessfully to free herself and when she realised she was stuck, replied desperately, "nothing of the kind Mr Phillips, I have fallen in love with Mr Hoffer, regardless of his faith. His is our God after all. He has never tried to persuade me to adopt Judaism and I haven't done likewise. We will live together honouring our different faiths. I'm sorrowful that you can't help us, but we will marry regardless." Eventually she managed to prise his fingers from her arm and they got away.

Marilla winced as Gideon dabbed her bruised forearm, Mr Phillip's finger-marks clearly delineated on her pale skin. "That'll get worse before it gets better, but it should die down in a day or so."

Her stalwart demeanour cracking when she spoke with a quaver, Marilla said, "I feared that would happen."

"I did as well," Gideon said gently pressing his lips to each bruise as if like tending to a child his kisses could make them better.

"It was nerve-wracking, I admit I hardly got a wink's sleep last night for worrying about it and it seems my paranoia was justified."

Gideon frowned; he had felt the same way but hoped he was overreacting. "We'll go and see the Rabbi. Hopefully he'll be more broadminded.

They packed the wagon the next day, keen for the situation to be resolved as soon as possible. Matthew waved them goodbye from the gate, happy for them but worried also; Marilla had never been away for so long or had gone so far. He prayed they would find a satisfactory result, the couple deserved as much after their previous heartbreak. He wiped his nose and thought, like to have a few wee ones around the place. I'll never have any of my own, but I think I might make a good uncle. Once the wagon was out of sight he turned and got lost in his chores. When lunchtime came, he was delighted to see Marilla had made the time to set out his meal and there was a note that he read over his sandwich.

Dearest Matthew, thank you for your unstinting support. I count myself lucky to have such a brother as you. I pray you have a peaceful time while we are away. Wish us luck! Your loving sister, Marilla Cuthbert

Fortunately, they left before the Minister arrived. Not content with his behaviour of the previous day, Mr Phillips decided to pay a visit to Green Gables in the hope of talking some sense into Marilla. He was dismayed to find the couple already gone. Instead, he had to content himself with speaking to Matthew. "You must understand," he said. "How completely unacceptable this situation is. Your sister must not, under any circumstances, wed that man. I forbid it."

"Well now," replied Matthew his laconic manner upset by the sight of the minister frothing in front of him. "The thing of it is, Marilla fell in love you see. And s'far as I can see, Mr Hoffer did likewise. Don't ask me to stand in the way of true love Mr Phillips. I won't do it."

"But, but, but," Mr Phillips stammered so incensed he could barely speak. "It goes against holy scripture. A good Christian such as your sister may not marry an apostate like a Jew. It is not possible."

Leaning on the fence, Matthew regarded the other man for a long moment before replying, "well I reckon you might be out of luck there unless you find the rabbi they're seeing agrees with you. Otherwise, I expect my sister, Mrs Hoffer will be returning in a few days. Good day to you sir," he said by way of politely requesting the Minister to leave.

Finding no satisfactory resolution at Green Gables Mr Phillips had no choice but to return home there to write a long and passionate letter to his betters about the terrible situation he found himself in and how he could resolve it.

"We tried to get married at home," Gideon explained to the Charlottetown rabbi, Rabbi Goldman, but we received short shrift. They're not very flexible, and we were hoping…"

Marilla finished off the sentence, "that you might be prepared to wed us instead?"

Over his glass of tea Rabbi Goldman regarded the couple for a long while. "Do you mean to join the Jewish faith, Miss Cuthbert?" he asked at last.

Marilla took a deep breath, "well I don't know. I don't think I know enough about it to say at this stage."

"At least you are truthful, I will give you that. One should not convert lightly. It is a matter of great importance. Tell me about yourselves, how did you meet?"

They described their unceremonious meeting and Gideon explained how gracious Marilla had been offering him a bed for the night. That first dinner of pork was described at which the rabbi winced, but he smiled when Gideon mentioned his baconless breakfast. "The number of times I've been offered it beggars belief. Well remembered, Miss Cuthbert." The two went on to describe their relationship; the way they spoke over each other racing to tell their story said more to the rabbi than their actual words for he saw that they were equals. Neither gaining the upper hand over each other, and that instead they had a mutual respect.

There was a pause after they stopped speaking, having wound up with their decision to marry and their unfortunate conversation with Mr Phillips the previous day, though by mutual agreement they decided to omit any mention of Marilla's failed pregnancy, deciding on the way that there was little point.

"Very well," Rabbi Goldman said after another sip of tea. "I can see that you two are very much in love. While ordinarily I would prefer you married within the faith, Gideon, it's not so easy in Canada to find the ideal woman with whom you can spend your life. Naturally, I would like you to agree to study our ways, Miss Cuthbert. Ideally your children would grow up in the Jewish faith, but if they are not Jewish, I would like them to know God's love. I take it that would be happening?"

"Of course," Marilla replied feeling relieved and sad all at the same time. She had hoped that Mr Phillips would see sense, but at least in the eyes of the state, she and Gideon would be free to live as man and wife.

Feeling the glass shatter underfoot Gideon knew at last that he was wed to the woman of his dreams and they both drank the wine that symbolised their vows. Embracing Marilla, he kissed her on the lips and the hastily assembled crowd of his Jewish brothers and sisters cried out as one at their nuptials. The dancing and drinking continued well into the night until eventually they escaped hand in hand to the hotel to collapse into bed together.

They did not consummate the marriage that night for Marilla fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow; it had been a long and emotional day. But Gideon made up for it the next morning. Rabbi Goldman had paid for their breakfast to be delivered to the room and over it and under it they made long and passionate love without regard to crumbs or jam or tea. Later, they had the maid draw them a bath and Gideon washed the remains of breakfast from Marilla's skin and she did likewise for him.

Marilla's head was nodding against Gideon's shoulder as they drove home. "Just a minute," said Gideon. "Hold the reins for a moment will you." Mystified a sleepy Marilla did as he asked while Gideon rummaged around in the back and then climbed to the wagon's roof. He came back down and told her to go on up, pointing out the way. Once up there Marilla found a beautiful cradle formed by an indentation on the top where Gideon had spread some blankets over a thin mattress. "Get some rest," he called up.

Unwilling to leave him alone she peeked her head over the parapet to say so, but he swivelled around to wave her off. "I'll be up later, let's get closer to home first."

The wagon's jolting provided an unlikely backdrop to her slumbers, but the mattress was comfortable and the blankets warm. After their emotional trip, Marilla was exhausted in body and mind.

After a while Gideon tethered the horse off the road a piece and climbed up to join her. His bride looked so very beautiful laying in the weak sunshine. He hated to wake her so lay down at her side, his arm carefully encircling her waist. She turned, half asleep into the crook of him and they dozed in each other's warmth.

Marilla came to before he did, and she moved his arm which had grown heavy against her. He woke then and commenced a slow circling with his fingers on her upper thigh. Her legs flopping open she lay back. Dreamily she watched the clouds slip by; intoxicated by lust her mind rose to meet them, entranced by their very existence.