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Dear Gilbert,
I look like my mother…
His heart raced as he opened the letter, scarcely believing that she had really written to him, that this was not a dream, that perhaps his affections were indeed returned. His awe only grew as he read on, her beautiful words revealing so much of her heart to him. Despite his unceasing thoughts of her for years, he had not realized how much he longed to be part of her trusted circle of kindred spirits. How jealous he had been of Diana and Cole who were privy to the inner thoughts of her mind and the struggles of her heart. He had not realized it until he held her precious letter in his hands.
Her words were a balm on the old wounds of all the times she had shut down, shut him out. He thought of her insistence on the train, less than a year ago, that she didn’t need a chaperone, didn’t need him . And now here she was, writing of her parents, of how it felt to know that she was loved, that she shared her parents’ passion for learning, their reverence for nature, their curiosity for the world.
She opened up.
And so it went in their letters over the first term of their relationship and their distance. Gilbert wrote to her daily about his new life in Toronto, the brilliance of his professors and the loneliness of the city. He revealed how lost he sometimes felt without his father, how guilt hung over him for his inability to save those he loved. He spoke at length about how his new family – Bash and Delphine and Anne Anne Anne were a lighthouse in a storm, guiding him towards a brighter future for himself and those he might have the opportunity to help.
In turn, Anne wrote of the pain of feeling unlovable, from the orphanage to when Marilla sent her back to Gilbert’s own mistakes. She did not blame him, she assured him, but shame pooled in his belly all the same when he opened her letter that day. How could she ever forgive him? But her next letter was filled with so much wonder as she described visiting a nearby classroom for study – the endless potential she saw in the children and the majesty of a grove she had passed through on her way back to her boarding house. All of this, she said, had made her think of him, and how he saw the same possibilities in the world that she did. How their optimism and their drive towards their greatest imaginings made them kindred. While he could not yet forgive himself for how he had made her feel, his greatest imaginings that day placed a cottage in the grove she described and filled the school house with curly redheads with fiery tempers.
Gilbert’s impatience to see her again was insatiable, but Anne insisted that he focus on his coursework and save his money for his future ( our future , he amended in his return correspondence). She was right of course. The train and ferry journey from Toronto to Charlottetown was too expensive to allow for a weekend’s visitation, no matter how much he ached to drop everything and run to her when her letters spoke of her joy, her sorrow, or – most of all – her longing for him. In November, he received an account of her Saturday afternoon spent in the yard while her friends received suitors for tea in the parlor. She wrote of how she wished he were there, not so that they might join a formal tea, but so they could wander the city together and create stories of all the people they observed. That they might stop in a park and she would regale him with a tale of a woodland nymph before their talk turned more serious, and they spoke about the worlds they wished to create. That she knew he might say something about saving people, helping people, caring deeply for others, that she could not bear to witness the goodness of his heart and might be forced to kiss him a little too long and a little too passionately for the bounds of propriety.
Gilbert carried that letter in his breast pocket for a full week so that he could peek at it in between classes or as he made his way down to dinner. His new friends teased him endlessly about Anne, whom he found an excuse to slip into almost every conversation, and the letter was no exception. He pulled it out while he was in the library with them studying for their pre-holiday exams, and Alfred rolled his eyes.
“Gilbert, if you look at your girl the way you look at that letter, her parents are going to make you marry her over the holidays for your indecent gaze.”
He suspected he was meant to rise to the bait, but he only shrugged. “It has been inevitable for some time, but I rather suspect they are the ones who will want us to wait.”
His friends looked shocked for a moment before they laughed, and Henry said “If only your certainty about Anne was contagious to our anatomy knowledge.”
In quieter, more private moments, his friends approached him individually with questions about how he knew, about what loving Anne felt like, so that they might know what they were looking for as they courted city girls. He told them the truth of his heart – that love was the deepest of friendship and admiration. That all he sought was Anne’s happiness and success. And that she had once smashed him over the head with a slate when he had pursued his needs to the detriment of her own.
All of this filled Gilbert with a restlessness to see Anne again, an impatience to see how their relationship translated from the page to reality, and a quiet confidence that it would do so quite well. Christmas was not always an easy time for him, but he was prepared to spend his break being blissfully happy with Anne.
Their reunion was on a Saturday evening, Gilbert having traveled all day to catch the last ferry to Charlottetown. He felt his weariness in his bones from exams and his journey. He and Anne were to spend the night at Diana’s Aunt Josephine’s house before taking the first train home in the morning, and a slight feeling of dread lingered as he thought about meeting Aunt Jo for the first time in this condition.
But he needn’t have worried, for his body filled with adrenaline and joy the moment he glimpsed a head of red hair waiting at the ferry dock. She practically pushed the crowd out of her way as he walked down the gangway, and the moment he was on land, she stood in front of him with a grin that felt like pure sunshine.
“Hi,” she whispered softly, sweetly.
Gilbert took her hands in his, as he had when he had left, and pressed a kiss to them. Words failed him, but he knew his heart was in his eyes as he whispered back. “Hi.”
Then Cole approached them and there was the collection of his bags and a carriage and an awful lot of knowing, teasing glances from Anne’s friend. Gilbert suspected he ought to mind, but he was so enchanted by the way Anne had sat close enough that he could feel her shoulder against his that he could not bring himself to care.
After they dined with Aunt Jo, Gilbert found himself in the parlor with Anne and Cole, exhaustion settling back in as Cole convinced Anne to read aloud a passage from a book he had found particularly moving. She read with gusto, as she had since she was young, and Gilbert was so in love he could hardly breathe.
Cole declared her reading a marvelous end to the evening, and bid them goodnight. As he left, he looked directly at Gilbert as he said, “I shall give you two a few moments to say… well, whatever you wish.” He gave Anne a knowing smile that made her flush, then swept dramatically from the room.
In the end, they did not say much, weary as they were, but Gilbert did get to hold her to his chest and feel as though his heart might burst.
He felt so incandescently happy as he walked through the train station with her arm in his, as they spent the train riding discussing all manner of things that they hadn’t gotten to cover in their letters. If there was a moment where Anne went silent in the middle of a story, he didn’t notice, or perhaps he dismissed it as a moment of distraction at the thought of seeing her family, or dared to imagine that she was just as distracted by his company as he was by hers.
When they emerged from the train, Bash took one look at his face and burst out laughing, starting his little dance from the kitchen so many months ago. “I win, oh Blythe, I sure do win.”
Gilbert gave him a friendly shove and smiled at Anne. “I think we both know that I’m the one who won, Bash.” There was hugging and an invitation to Christmas dinner with the Cuthberts and once he was home, Dellie’s happy gurgling while he and Bash exchanged stories of the past few months.
He rode this wave of joy all the way to the following evening, when he and Anne attended a gathering of their former classmates at the Barrys’ house. His classmates cheered as he and Anne walked in arm in arm and the whole party laughed as Moody yelled “So you finally got her after all, eh, buddy?”
They separated as the night went on, Gilbert making his way around the party to catch up with Anne’s Queen’s classmates while she engaged in a rousing conversation with Jane and Tilllie about the importance of ritual. He reveled in the comfort of knowing she was only a few feet away, in the strength of their relationship that allowed them their individual pursuits.
Gilbert was ruminating on this as he spoke with Josie Pye, about her suitors – a topic he was not all that invested in until the subject shifted and Josie said, “You know, I’m surprised you made it the whole term without visiting. Anne said you were just being smart about your future, but I would have thought that surely that nasty business with Roy Gardner would have brought you back from U of T posthaste.”
Gilbert recoiled, a part of him remembering just how unpleasant Josie Pye could be. Of course she would stir trouble between him and Anne over what was probably nothing.
Except that as soon as she said it, Diana, who was standing with them, turned to her and said sharply “ Josie! ”
Josie shrugged and turned away to chat with Charlie, but Gilbert caught Diana’s eye as she attempted to rush away. Her flushed face and her hurry made it clear that this was not just Josie being nasty. This was a secret.
Roy Gardner was a name that he recognized from one of Anne’s letters, someone she had mentioned offhandedly as a classmate. His heart dropped to his stomach as he wondered if Roy was more than a classmate, if Anne had been courting someone else behind his back. But his doubt lasted only a moment – if he knows anything, it’s that Anne is worthy of his trust. This meant then, that something else happened. By the sound of it, something that hurt Anne, and she chose not to come to him about it. She chose to shut him out, like she always had before.
Gilbert tried not to look affected as the party wrapped up. This was a matter between him and Anne; there was no need for their whole school to know that something was amiss. But as he walked her home, he apparently did not succeed in keeping the melancholy off of his face. Anne stopped him halfway to Green Gables, coming around to face him with a look of concern.
“Gilbert, what’s wrong? It seemed like you were having fun at the party but… Did something happen?”
For a moment, he tried to hold it in because his hurt was fresh and he did not know if he is ready to be rational. But he had never truly been able to deny Anne anything, so the words burst forth from him.
“Why didn’t you tell me that something happened with Roy?”
He watched as Anne’s face darkened, her cheeks flushing and her eyes narrowing. For the first time in months, since that day he escorted her on the train, he steeled his heart for a fight.
“How do you know about that?”
His shoulders fell. So he was right, this was a secret.
“Josie mentioned it,” he said flatly, hoping that the fissures forming in his heart were not audible in his voice.
Anne’s expression dipped further, her mouth open, and he waited for her temper to flare. Then suddenly, her whole body sank, rage gone, and she looked up at him with fear in her eyes.
“Gilbert I swear, nothing untoward happened!” she spoke in a rush, as if she had not meant to say it but could not keep it in another second. “I would never — I hope you know me well enough to know I would never — I love you and I am committed to you and I may be an orphan but I promise I have values enough —”
Nothing would speed the breaking of his heart like Anne speaking poorly of herself. He found his hand on her cheek before he had even really thought about it, slowing her words. “Anne, darling, I know that,” he said, the term of endearment slipping out for the first time as he ran his thumb along her cheekbone. “I know that. I trust you. I’m not asking you what happened. I’m asking why you didn’t tell me that something happened, when it was clear from the way Josie and Diana spoke about it that whatever occured upset you.”
Anne leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath that he could feel against his wrist. When she opened them, her eyes were glassy as she stared up at the stars above his head. “Gil, I…”
But her voice trailed off and this was all wrong. She wouldn’t meet his gaze and something big was happening here, something Gilbert knew he could not mess up. He brought his other hand up to her face and slowly guided her head down until their eyes met, his fingers slipping back into her hair and holding her gently.
“Anne, you don’t owe me the details of what happens in your life, with Roy or ever. Your life is your own, and it is my privilege to be a part of whatever you choose to share with me. But I… I will not deny that I want to be someone you turn to, in joy and in sorrow. You have shared so much with me, in your letters, and it makes me feel that our hearts are close even when we are far away. I was hurt to learn that something had happened because it made me feel as though there is distance between us, and I hate to think that there is something I’ve done that makes you feel as if you could not unburden yourself to me.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears as he spoke and when he finished, hoping he had explained well what he was asking for, she let out a single sob.
“Gilbert, I was just so ashamed,” she said, a hand coming up to take one of his and hold their clasp to her chest. “Roy was… well, I mentioned him to you once or twice before everything happened. He was an acquaintance, of all of ours really. For a time I thought he might be a friend, for he was always reciting poetry, but he always got it slightly wrong, and I soon realized that he shared it because he liked the way it made him sound, not because it lit up his soul.
Several of the girls had classes with him and we saw him at functions from time to time. He knew about you because well,” she ducked her head and looked up at him through her eyelashes, giving a wet chuckle, “everyone does. But one day we were all in the park and he came and pulled me away from Diana to talk. I didn’t think much of it, but suddenly he was taking my hand and asking me to meet him outside the boarding house at night and I…”
She took a deep breath, allowing Gilbert a grateful minute to gather his bearings and swallow his anger at someone having the gall to approach his girl. At someone having the gall to approach Anne , this beautiful, intelligent, powerful woman, in such a dishonorable way. If Gilbert had been there he absolutely would have…
“Well I rather lost my temper.”
Gilbert felt a laugh slip out of him at how well her words aligned with the rage coursing through him. Anne started, confusion at his reaction ghosting across her face. He smirked and let his other hand drop to her shoulder. “That’s my girl.”
She laughed along with him, though her head hung slightly. “I was angry—”
“And you had every right to be,” he cut in.
“And you know how I get,” she said with a silencing glare. “I shouted for all the park to hear about how offensive it was that he would approach me when he knows I have a beau, and to suggest that I was loose enough to, well. I don’t usually regret giving people what they deserve, but oh, I wish I had held my tongue.”
She looked down again, the shame clear in her face, and Gilbert’s rage transformed into a fierce feeling of protectiveness.
“What did he do?”
Anne closed her eyes, but the words came quickly, if weakly, from her mouth. . “He shouted at me right back. He… he told me that I would never be worth more than what he had offered to me. That my red hair is a curse bestowed upon those with loose morals. That he didn’t wasn’t even sure you were real, but if you were it was only a matter of time before a future doctor realized that he had no business hanging around with trash like me.”
Gilbert’s blood boiled, but there would be a time for his anger, and it was certainly not with Anne standing in front of him, closed up against the shame that clearly threatened to eat her. He moved his arms to bring her flush against him, wrapping securely around her shoulders and her waist.
“Oh Anne,” he said, feeling her arms come to wrap around him after a moment. “My dear Anne, he had no right.”
She squeezed him tighter. “I couldn’t bear to tell you what he said to me. I kept trying to tell myself he was wrong, he was just being cruel because I had embarrassed him, but I couldn’t find the courage to believe it. Not enough to write his words down and send them to you. Not to be certain you wouldn’t agree with him.”
Shocked, he pulled back to look at her. “ Agree with him? Anne, how could you even think—”
She put a hand over his mouth to cut him off. “I didn’t, Gilbert, not really. But I was ashamed and hurt and struggling not to find truth in his words myself, and I wasn’t strong enough to share them with you. Do you understand? That I did not doubt you but I had too many doubts myself to write a letter and wait days for your response?”
He groaned, but he nodded. “I do, I understand why you didn’t tell me. But I don’t understand how you could see any truth in what that foul buffoon said to you.”
Gilbert tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her nose. “You are intelligent beyond compare.”
A kiss to her cheek. “Your kindness and curiosity make friends everywhere.”
A kiss to her ear. “Your passion pushes those around you to be better.”
A kiss to her forehead. “Your hair makes me weak in the knees.”
He dipped his mouth to her lips and whispered against them. “I’ve loved you since I was 15 and I have no intention of stopping.”
He hadn’t gotten to kiss her, not really, since the day in front of her boarding house. But Anne was not the only one with a vibrant imagination, and Gilbert re-lived jumping out of the carriage to sweep her up in his arms every single day. Still, he was not quite prepared for how his heart kicked, for her quick response, for the need coursing through him. A need to have her closer, even though she was already pulled against his chest, a need to taste her, even though her mouth was open against his, a need to —
His reverie was cut off by Anne pulling away laughing. “Well Mr. Blythe, you may be appallingly sweet, but even you can’t deny my morals are a little loose.”
Gilbert’s hands fell away from her immediately and he took a step back, the beautiful feeling of passion filling him up swirling quickly into panic and shame. “Anne, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have, I got carried away.”
But she smiled and swatted at his arm. “I am joking , Gil. You should feel free to kiss me like that whenever you’d like.”
The return of her usual disposition put him at ease, and he felt a teasing smirk grow on his face. “ Whenever I’d like?”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, continuing down the path towards Green Gables. “Well, maybe not whenever you’d like. You do have this town convinced that you are such a nice boy, a real gentleman.”
He laughed. “Well we mustn’t change that, otherwise not even our friends will be relied upon to let me walk you home alone.”
She smiled, and it reached her eyes as she said, “Thank you, Gilbert. For listening. For understanding me.”
“I love you, Anne. I will always listen.”
“I love you too,” she replied, and he felt the cracks in his heart from the start of this conversation seal over as his chest swelled with joy. “I hope nothing like this ever happens again but if it does… I shall try to be brave in its face. I love having you know me, and while I have many bosom friends, none of them offered comfort around this quite like you.”
“I should certainly hope not,” Gilbert teased. “You know, you can always send a telegram and tell me there is a matter of urgent business, and I will be on the next train up to listen and support you and kiss you inappropriately.”
Anne scoffed. “Hardly an appropriate use of your hard-earned money.”
But Gilbert just smiled and used their joint hands to spin her in front of him, close to him once again. “I beg to differ, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert,” he said, his nose rubbing along hers and fire lighting up his body. “I think kissing you is a good use of all of my resources. I shall prove it to you.” And he set about doing just that.