Notes:

Thank you for reading. Things have been very busy but am still aiming to get the last chapter written and finish posting. I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas, I will likely post Chapters 24-25 at the same time, same as I am posting Chapter 23 now.

Chapter 22: Summer's End

"Well, don't put it off too long," said Aunt Atossa significantly. "You'll fade soon—you're all complexion and hair. And the Wrights are terrible fickle. You ought to wear a hat, MISS SHIRLEY. Your nose is freckling scandalous. My, but you ARE redheaded! Well, I s'pose we're all as the Lord made us! Give Marilla Cuthbert my respects. She's never been to see me since I come to Avonlea, but I s'pose I oughtn't to complain. The Cuthberts always did think themselves a cut higher than any one else round here." - Chapter XI, Anne of the Island

It was both welcome, and a regret when the Irvings arrived on the Island for the summer, opening their house and quickly requesting Anne come for a week. With Mrs. Lynde assuring Anne she had the twins well in hand and Gilbert promising to stop by when he could on his way home from White Sands, Anne packed her valise and was dropped off Monday morning by Gilbert who detoured en route to White Sands. It was a glorious week, what with the echos, going with Paul to visit the rock people, only for him to forlornly admit he couldn't find them anymore. Gilbert joined them for a late supper on Wednesday, and she was shocked to find herself tempted return home with him for the joy of a star lit buggy ride with her head able to rest on her shoulder. Instead she'd gone to bed with the mail that Gilbert had brought her including a thick letter from Phil. That Phil had finally made up her mind and more then that fallen in love with a poor homely minister named Jonas had Anne most in shock. She'd left the book she kept her story of Prince Royal and Lady Cordelia at home, sitting hidden beneath her pillow in the spare room at Green Gables. Green Gables, her story to escape into, and even her girlhood had began to feel foreign as though she was holding onto a life that was no longer hers. Perhaps it was time to accept she was Mrs. Gilbert Blythe?

Anyways, she'd reread one of the earlier chapters the night before she'd left and felt her conscious trickle, for the servant of Lady Cordelia, she'd realized sounded far too much like Gilbert and was constantly compared as wanting in the same room as the glorious Prince Royal. Perhaps it was time she just set aside that book? Start something new? She hadn't a fresh book with her, but Charlotta the fourth did speak of walking over to the store in Middle Graffin for more sewing supplies, perhaps she'd join her?

They made a merry duo the next morning in the crisp summer air. They spoke of how life had changed in the past two years. "Paul's grown mighty tall he has." Charlotta stated. "I worry at times I won't find a man as easily as you did. Who'd have guessed when we witnessed Miss Lavender marry her Mr. Irving that you'd be married yourself in under a year? I worry at times thinking of them that it's awfully hard to catch a man, but then I remember you and those eyes Gilbert's always given you. Why, from the first we saw you together Miss Lavender and I were certain you'd be a match. Course, we thought you'd wait until you were done with college, but then with Miss Cuthbert dying, sorry to remind you, I remember meeting her. Practical and good. Not at all flighty like my Miss Lavender. Though I think it's awfully queer your ideas of a betrothal marriage? Are you married or aren't you?"

"I…" Anne gulped. It felt with each passing day and week things got more and more complicated. She couldn't say it was to give her a few more years to pretend she didn't have that future? But then there were recent aspects that made it not quite so daunting, though she still feared parts. To give up all romance and poetry for a man who served. "We don't mean to live as man and wife until Gilbert's done with medical school and we can start a nursery. We would have waiting to marry if we hadn't needed Gilbert to be the nearest male kin to be guardian to Davy."

"Foolish if you ask me. Course women folk are as foolish as men folk." Charlotta the Fourth nodded. "My mother taught me, that is before I replaced my sister and became Charlotta the Fourth when she married, and each of my sisters who have married mind you and have had babies. Why I've so many nieces and nephews now I loose track of all their names. I simply think of them as 1A, or 2C depending on which sister and which child in order. Makes things far more easier. I have learned something from Miss Lavender after all. Now I shall marry, and marry the best what with not being stuck about here on the Island with Miss Lavender in isolation at the Ecco lodge. But I would think and they all confirm, children you don't wait until things are perfect for. You could be living in a shack, and they're perfect anyways, even if you're constantly doing washings for not enough baby things. Well, I guess I'd ensure you have enough baby things. Washing more than once a week is not fun. I worry from time to time that Miss Lavender will have a babe and then I'll be stuck with all their washings. No, you're right. Best wait long as possible."

Anne laughed. At least there was some humor in her situation.

"Course," Charlotta the Fourth continued. "Didn't you say before that there's three years for his medical school, and two years yet for your college degree? What will you do when you finish your degree while you wait for him to be ready to start making babies. Even I know how that works you know. Though I think Paul doesn't yet, which is for the best. Mr. Irving though will have to explain if Miss Lavender though gets in the family way. She may be old and so's he, but it doesn't mean it's impossible. She's not a crone yet, and she's still bleeding. Bit irregularly if you ask me though. I always keep track, because she's always craving chocolate when it's that time. It's been four months though but she hasn't had a quickening so I think she's just at that age you know?"

"I…"

"You won't let Gilbert keep you waiting that long will you? It may be too late for Miss Lavender, and I mean to get my babies born as quickly as possible but you won't wait that long will you?"

"No, of course not." Anne flushed at the thought of the process of baby making. Though the kissing she discovered was quite pleasant, the memories she'd had of Mrs. Hammond and even before her of Mrs. Thomas, and whispers she'd heard. Perhaps a private talk with Miss Lavender was in order? Oh two years since her marriage, and it was still hard to think of her as anything but Miss Lavender! Gilbert seemed far more likely to take after the character of behavior of Mr. Irving then her memories of Mr. Hammond or others… She would find a minute alone with Miss Lavender before she left, one where she was confident non others would over hear.

They'd arrived twenty minutes later in Middle Graffton, Anne spent nearly all the funds she'd taken to Ecco Lodge with her on a new book, laughing as Charlotta the Fourth agonized over embroidery threads of which colors would serve her sampler the best. She'd yet given little thought into what she might write as they walked home, speaking of the differences in life between the states and the Island. "For one can't compare it to the other providences," Charlotta the Fourth spoke solemnly, "For I've only been briefly and only in traveling to and from the states."

That night Anne did struggle to start the grand new story, one that Gilbert would be proud of, for she'd realized he never could read the adventures of Prince Royal for the comparisons did leave him wanting which was not fair. Yet nothing would come to her.

It wasn't until the next day, a bright and clear Saturday, that Anne got a moment alone with Miss Lavender, suggesting a walk for the two of them. They'd only gone a short ways when Miss Lavender spoke. "Something on your mind Anne dear? I could feel it all week but even more since you returned yesterday with Charlotta the Fourth."

"I…" Anne gulped. "It isn't Gilbert who wants to delay us truly living as man and wife. It's me. Oh Miss Lavender! I've done my best to forget my years before I began to live when I came to Green Gables, but I can't truly forget and they were dark years. Abuse was normal."

"Anne." Miss Lavender stopped walking turning to face Anne. "Have you told Gilbert about those years?"

"No." Anne gulped forcing tears back. "As little as possible to anyone. Oh Miss Lavender, Mr Hammond was a drunk, but he also would demand things. Mostly just of Mrs. Hammond the worst of them. I'd see bruises and blood dripping onto her feet after he'd see to his urges. One time she couldn't what with giving birth to the last set of twins. I was minding the other two sets making sure they didn't cry too much when he'd grabbed me looked me over and said I was too homely to even bother with, no man would be able to complete what ever that is with me."

"Oh Anne." Miss Lavender had enveloped Anne into a hug. "The way the marriage act was created by God shouldn't lead to bleeding, well a little the first time. But it shouldn't be truly painful, it can be awkward and uncomfortable at first as you learn each others pleasures and bodies, but its about becoming one, not taking one's pleasure. I'm glad Mr. Hammond never touched you that way and decided you were too homely for him to commit such a sin against you. But you must remember Gilbert isn't like that Mr. Hammond. Like Mr. Irving he'll put you first. That's what a real husband does. Speak to him about it, ask Mrs. Lynde to watch the twins on a Sunday afternoon and tell him everything. That's what marriage is for - having that one who will guard your back, and laugh with you and… Now, don't you think you best start calling me Lavender?"

"I… I'll ask Mrs. Lynde when I return next Monday. Though she's had all week with just the twins and could use the rest. And it's not as though we will anyways any time soon. I mean Gilbert doesn't trust the methods completely that prevent children except for abstinence, scientifically he says each method what ever they are has a way to fail. So there isn't a rush but I will speak. You're right, only what I still can't accept I guess, is the knowledgemnet that to consummate the marriage means truly we are married. And that Gilbert married a woman who doesn't love him?"

"You don't?"

"Oh I do care about him greatly, but it's not a mad passionate love, for he's never been my ideal…"

"And your ideal?"

"Dark and brooding, good but could be bad yet reformed. He'd be a poet and never think of more than a kiss on the hand…" Anne sighed. "But I don't love him…"

"Gilbert? Anne dear, love is a choice. If it was an emotion, we'd all be in trouble. Perhaps it means you simply must choose to love Gilbert. Perhaps that was the choice that Marilla saw for you. That even your dear Matthew saw. For ask yourself which is the husband that Matthew would have wanted for you? Gilbert or your ideal? And I must tell you your ideal would be more likely to be as Mr. Hammond for all his broodiness, then Gilbert ever will be."

"I…"

"Now write or come to me when you and Gilbert are ready for that step. Or if you daren't put it to paper, go to a wife you trust is happy with her marriage bed. Then ask her husband to talk to Gilbert of how to please you. The marriage bed you need not fear. I rather think you'll enjoy it, perhaps too well and waiting yet two more years might be best. But face your fears with Gilbert holding your hand, not alone…"

"I… I will." Anne felt something within her settle. It truly was time to set aside her Prince Royal and Lady Cordelia.

—

Gilbert felt the week pass as slow is possible without Anne at home. That he'd grown addicted to kissing her goodnight he'd had to admit. It was though with a surprise when after a late night visiting with Anne at Ecco Lodge, and a wonderful goodnight kiss just outside of sight of Ecco Lodge. He'd come home surprised though on Friday night, with an agitated Mrs. Lynde holding a telegram. "That lawyer of yours wrote warning of a visit tomorrow, not only that - that Douglas Cuthbert is coming with him. Demanding an inspection of our raising of young Davy. That and the Shrimp is getting more and more big. How I'll function with just him when you've all gone in the fall? There's no way any sane person would let that boy take the Shrimp with him to Kingsport. He'd need two tickets himself, or at least one. Even if they don't allow dogs, I doubt they allow beasts of that size on the train. I guess you best fetch Anne in the morning and move Anne's things out of the spare room back to yours. Would look best I would think if Anne's in your room, she is your wife. It speaks well of you waiting until you can start a nursery but still, the lawyer wrote that Douglas is bringing his own lawyer. Three men! Where will we put them all? That Douglas fella will certainly steel the good silver that was Marilla's. Just because it's a Cuthbert heirloom and he's a Cuthbert. Every bunch has a bad apple, and he's the Cuthbert one. Mark my word."

Which was why, after finishing the supper Mrs. Lynde had kept warm, he'd found himself gathering up Anne's things: dresses, toiletries, under things, a few books, and a slim book he'd found under the pillow where she'd rested her head. That the pillow still smelled of Anne made him homesick for his wife, and fighting off the temptation to switch the pillow for his own, he'd brought her things upstairs so that Mrs Lynde could figure out how to fit three men in the spare room. "For we don't dare leave your lawyer without as witness for he wrote to ensure that there's little damage done by that Douglas man and I quite agree."

He'd hung up the dresses beside his suits in the wardrobe, laid her other things on her trunk still stored in what he'd come to now think of as their room for her to settle where things should go, though likely when she'd return the next day. He'd paused at the book under her bed, wanting to read what she'd been reading before falling asleep, he'd opened it to find her own writing a new story. Feeling a little guilty for not asking permission first he sat down and began to read the comical story of the snotty Prince Royal. Finding himself laughing too hard, only so somber up as he kept reading. This fool was Anne's dream man? It was rather clear with her own hand her thoughts, that she saw life with him a cage she'd been forced into. Instead of feeling his bride closer he felt her even further away. Lost and alone, he'd fallen asleep, wondering how he'd convince his wife to give up on her ideal? If she met him would she run away as she wrote of Lady Cordelia doing - even though she'd written of a forced marriage with the servant by her father. Would he wake up one day to find her gone?

He'd slept little that night, and still with a half day at White Sands he'd left throwing himself into work, knowing that the lawyers and Douglas would be at Green Gables on his return. He'd stopped by his folks asking for reinforcements for supper that night. It was with a heavy heart when after the lunch crowd had left the hotel he'd clocked off, and hitched up the buggy before riding out to Ecco Lodge. That he'd had a good 45 minutes to ponder just what to say to Anne. Would he ever win her heart? Didn't seem likely. She'd give lip service that she was trying but to write such horrible things. He'd had to read it all. Course he did. That she'd even been his friend! Perhaps the him he could have been, one never facing the loss of Marilla and that ridiculous strict settlement, who would have begged for her hand perhaps even that summer only to be honestly turned away. Perhaps he would have been better off without her instead of this facade he was stuck with.

They were surprised to see him at Ecco lodge, Mr. Irving told him that Mrs. Irving and Anne had gone for a walk, perhaps he thought, for the best. He'd told of their surprise visitors at Green Gables and needing Anne home that night. Maybe, a stray thought popped into his head. Maybe, he'd just take his marital rights that night so that she couldn't' leave."

Charlotta the Fourth had served tea for the men chatting away about how Anne had taught her a new hair do, that would be the envy in the states when the two missing ladies arrived. He'd glanced at Anne, taking in her paleness and eyes with a tinge of red. Crying over how she'd never meet her Prince Royal no doubt. He'd announced the change of plans and their need to be home quickly to help Mrs. Lynde prepare for supper and their guests coming on the evening train from Charlottetown. "Staying until Monday they are at least we hope only that long." Anne had quickly packed her bag, and with fond farewells he'd helped his wife up into the buggy. Her heart he may never have, but he had to admit as soon as they were on the deserted road to head home, and she'd reached up to kiss him, causing him to trust the horse to know the way home. He may never have her heart, but he'd have her body that night such that she never could leave him. And quite willingly he'd say if her actions on the way home were any indication. Yes, he'd go ahead and follow Aunt Jimsies' instructions for the sleeve. He glanced down at her, her head on his shoulder, and hand on his knee. Maybe, just maybe she just didn't know her own heart.