Page 37 of Love, Will

“And two barns,” she added eagerly.

Anne paused for a moment, dreaming about the house and imagining her life in those conditions. She smiled softly, pleased with the vision she had encountered. “I wonder who will buy it eventually,” she added, still stuck in her dream.

“I was thinking we might,” I replied hopeful.

Her eyes widened and projected into mine, their owner staring at me, trying to decipher in my gaze if what she just heard was correct, so I nodded in approval.

“We cannot afford that house, Will,” her lips expelled but seeing the decision on my face, added, “Can we?”

“I think we can, though I will have to see Master Underhill and discuss the cost tomorrow. If that pleases you,” I softly smiled.

“Pleases me? Will, it makes me so happy,” she said, jumping in my arms. I smiled and held her tight, enjoying the comfort of having her around, of having someone to hold me again.

“Would you like to accompany father and I tomorrow and see the house?” I asked encouragingly.

“Would I?” Anne gasped in excitement and ran into the kitchen to tell mother.

Within the week, I purchased the house for sixty pounds and offered Anne another twenty to buy everything necessary for the household. I wanted her to have the life I had denied her and even if still restricted compared to the beauty of the capital, she could finally have a place to call her own, raise our girls in and enjoy what remained of her life.

I told myself it was a way to lessen my sins towards her so I denied nothing from what she wanted to buy and eventually decided it was easier to give her the purse of coin so she can purchase whatever she dreamt of. She was jumping up and down with joy, bossing movers around, hiring new help and buying chicken.

That was the life Anne wanted. She existed to be a wife and a mother and enjoyed her role more than anything while I kept myself mostly in the garden, giving her the space to settle and watching her happiness from afar.

When the day came for me to return to London, I called her into an empty room on the second floor. From what I had seen, it was the best lit room in the house, so when she arrived, I asked her if she would do me a favour. I passed her a long list, scribbled down on one of the few sheets of blank paper I still had.

“Would you buy these for me?” I asked, handing her the long folio.

She looked at the paper and then back at me.

“They are books. For me,” I clarified, trying to avoid the awkwardness of the wife of a playwright not being able to read a shopping list.

Confusion remained on her face, so I added.

“If you go to the school in town and speak to Thomas, tell him you are my wife, he will buy them and bring them to you.”

“You want them sent to London?” Anne asked with a docile voice.

“No, I want them here, on this wall. I was hoping you could help me with that while I am away.”

She did not understand what I wanted to tell her, and I did not have enough courage to ask. “But Will, you are the only person who reads and you are in London.”

“I was hopingIcould have this room for myself.” She raised her eyebrows. “As a study,” I added quickly.

“Will you have someone in here?” Anne questioned me with the same confused look she wore for the duration of the conversation.

“I was hoping I could be here,” I barely murmured.

My wife gazed at me, expressionless, still dwelling upon the meaning of my words.

“I was thinking that, if I gave up acting, I could write more from home. And spend more time with you and the girls. If you will have me.”

Anne smiled and launched herself into my arms.

“Always, Will. This is your home,” she said, kissing my forehead.

We spent the next hour planning the furniture for the study and all the materials I needed. My wife asked many questions about colours and types of wood but I told her I did not care as long as the desk faced the window and I had an unlimited supply of candles, paper, and ink. She got excited with the planning and told the girls I would be back soon. After we had dinner together, she even came to help with the packing, preparing my bag for my return to the capital. Only this time, my heart did not think about returning to the beloved theatre, but ached for leaving behind a friend.

“Take care of your heart while you’re there,” she whispered into my ear before I jumped into the carriage that would return me to the capital.

I watched her become smaller from the carriage, getting further away. There she was, the wife I tried so hard to forget, the companion I never dreamt of encountering. For once, I thought about our future together and felt an ease inside my chest. Happiness, it was.

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