|44|

4.8K 147 2
                                    

-ˋˏ *.·:·. [TWO WEEKS LATER] .·:·.* ˎˊ-

CHARLOTTE STAYED OUT OF SOCIETY EVER SINCE THE NIGHT OF THE BONFIRE. The only person who she talked to outside of her own household was Tillie who came with news of her acceptance to Queens. There was only one rule that Tillie had to agree to before Charlotte would even see her, no mention of anything to do with Gilbert or Anne. It was too painful so any and all conversations would be used as distractions. Charlotte would only leave her house for walks with her Brother and those were done in the forest away from the paths so there was no chance of running into anyone. All she had to do was wait until Art school in the next few days, Charlottetown came with a whole new set of people and a whole new set of people came with a fresh start. She missed Gilbert terribly but this was better for her own heart, Charlotte was being selfish right now and she didn't care who thought it. 

Gilbert had one of the most confusing weeks of his life but now he could finally see straight. There were no possibilities, no explanations blocking his vision any longer. He had broken it off with Anne upon realising that he would only marry Charlotte, she was the one that he loved unconditionally. And even if it was an unrequited love he wasn't about to marry a girl he didn't love, Mary had told him to only marry for love and he could take that advice. He had tried over five times, pretty much on the daily, to go to tell Charlotte himself but whenever he got within twenty feet of her house her Brother would come running out of the house to send Gilbert away. He was trying to protect his sister so he wouldn't listen to the many protests he gave. Gilbert wouldn't give up though so like clockwork he approached the house again. 

Gilbert this time made it through the old gap in the fence where he said goodbye to Charlotte the day he left for the docks without any sign of Rían. Even though he was confused about the lack of his presence, he pressed on hoping that Charlotte would be behind the door to their bakery. He took multiple deep breaths up the dirt path, trying to figure out what he was going to say and how. Sunlight beamed through the door as he stepped through the threshold, the sound of it closing caught the attention of the woman behind the counter. Just not the Rayhill woman he was looking for. Her mother looked up from the counter and already knew what he wanted from the look on his face. "She's gone for a walk with Rían, Gilbert." 

Gilbert felt his heart plummet, he had missed her once again and this time it would be the last. He was heading for school this afternoon so this was the last chance he would ever have. "Can I wait until she gets back?" he wasn't about to miss out on this opportunity just because she wasn't here right now. He would wait until the very last minute if it meant he got to see her before Toronto. If it meant that he could tell her how he felt when she wasn't half drunk. "There's something I need to tell her."  

Mother sighed, thinking it over for a second. "I don't think that's a good idea," she replied, starting to write something down again. She had chosen to respect her daughter's choices instead of what she believed in. But in true motherly fashion, she was going to do something her daughter didn't want to better her happiness. "However, I will let you write her a note," she smiled, this option didn't go against any of her daughter's rules about Gilbert. She had found a loophole that would, in her motherly opinion, benefit her daughter's happiness. Gilbert nodded in understanding with a smile, grateful for any sort of contact he could have with her. "There's paper in her room, don't touch anything she's very peculiar about people touching her things." 

"I know," Gilbert smiled with a nod and then walked through the door to their living room. He walked up the old staircase, gazing at each of the photos on the wall with each step. His favourite was one of Charlotte and her entire family in Ireland, she looked so happy standing there with her father and all her many relatives. He made his way to the door of her bedroom and immediately felt himself smile. 

Gilbert entered a sort of trance where he wasn't even realising that he was running his fingertips on top of her collection of clearly used books, used to the point that you could tell but they didn't look ratty (just as she loved them to be). He smiled at the fact they were in alphabetical author by the author's name, all apart from her favourite book which lay on her nightstand with painted bookmark laying three-quarters of the way through. He moved to her mirror finding the bunch of flowers that he had given her weeks ago now, dried and hanging from the top of the wood upside down. The red tulips came out more prominent than the other flowers in the bunch. She had a small picture of herself and her father slotted in between the glass and the wood, Charlotte used it as something to look at in the mirror.

Gilbert smiled as he traced the hair ribbons hanging from a small handcrafted stand, each one triggered a happy memory which proved that he had had feelings for this girl since the day they had met. The day when he watched her dancing freely in a field of flower buds in the forest became one of the most prominent memories for him, it was the day he saw the side of her that dared to dream. The side that he had fallen in love with all those years ago. His gaze fell next to the many, many colourful paintings on crinkled paper that covered the faded parts of her floral wallpaper. He could just about see the small buds in between all the paper. He found a painting of her and himself during the dashing white sergeant dance, she had created such an aura around the two of them that he had clarity that she had felt the exact same way during their dance lessons. He moved to her easel, paints were stacked in neat rows on the side table along with all her paintbrushes. Some stood upright in the apron which hung on her stool, others lay sporadically on the table with the paints but the ones that he had given her lay in a perfect row as if they hadn't been used before. Gilbert realised himself and took one of the smaller sheets of paper from on top of her easel, he borrowed a pen and began to write. He left the note on top of her dresser and with a final look around her room, memorising every detail, he walked out and headed back down the stairs. 

"Did you leave it somewhere she would see it?" Mother asked as soon as Gilbert walked back into the bakery. Her Daughter had a habit of misplacing important things so it needed to be somewhere where she would see it straight away, not in a few days. 

"On her dresser," he replied. Mother nodded confirming that that was a good place, she would see it as soon as she walked in. He cleared his throat, "Thank you, Mrs Rayhill." 

"There's no need to thank me Gilbert, after all, I didn't see you or let you upstairs. Did I?" Mother asked with a brow raised, she would deny that fact until Charlotte forgave her for it.

He smiled softly, "No, no of course not." He tipped his cap and then walked out of the bakery, heading to get ready to leave for school. 

Two hours later Charlotte and Rían walked into the bakery laughing about how he had fallen into the creek as they leapt over the rocks. Her laughter felt restricted from the new corset that had been fastened around her waist, she was of age now and had to dress like a proper lady of society. She had a gorgeous sage green dress on that highlighted her every curve and brought out the slight coppery tones in her hair. She didn't have her hair up like she was supposed to, in the forest she wouldn't see anyone anyway so why bother with the discomfort that a tight updo bought. A very soggy Rían walked up to his room leaving her and her mother alone in the bakery. 

"Flower can you go and get me that book from your room? The one you wanted me to read," Mother asked trying to coax her daughter to go upstairs and find the letter, she had a feeling that the contents would change her life. Charlotte nodded then walked up the stairs, picking up the ends of her newly long skirt. 





Baker - G. BLYTHEWhere stories live. Discover now