The Secret Diary of Belle (Grimmoire Series)

Entry Nineteen

I fear my last goodbye was made in earnest, yet again. Oh dear dairy, it has been what feels like the longest, most troubling and life-altering ten days of my life.

I came back a day or two ago and have finally willed myself into writing down these dreadful memories, before I surely cannot bear to think about them anymore.

Early the next morning, after he had agreed to take me home to my ailing father, Geroux had readied the two horses and carriage. Even in the dim light, I was able to see more of the beautiful grounds and the flowers. I did notice that one particular type of flower was absent. An odd thing for me to ponder, given the circumstances.

Geroux helped me up into the coach and like everything else of his, it was exquisite. It had been a while since I was in a coach. I am unsure if the outfit Geroux had left out for me to wear this morning - a dark, maroon red dress - was intentionally matching the decor of the carriage, but it did.

Geroux drove the carriage and the ride was pleasant enough. I am still unsure if the horses are Geroux's, as I failed to spot a stable on the grounds either from my window or as I was exiting the mansion.

A thousand trees passed, as the carriage weaved on and off the the well-travelled path. In that moment, I felt torn. Knowing that I was soon to abandon this man, who, despite the circumstances, which as peculiar and horrifying as they were, had shown me a kindness, seldom found in the circles my family and I were used to moving in.

The sound of the galloping horses and the rumble from the wheels below made it quite impossible to have any form of conversation while we were in motion. It did not help that I was inside the carriage, while Geroux was outside driving, either. It was rather annoying as I had a question I wished to ask Geroux.

An hour or so later, the carriage slowed to a stop. I slid the tiny window open and poked my head out to witness the reason for our stoppage. "Part of a tree has fallen across the path," he said. "How will we get through?" I asked in earnest. Being unfamiliar with these woods, I was unable to offer an alternate route. "T'is no matter, but it may take only a few minutes," Geroux said, before hopping down from the front of the carriage.

I climbed out of the carriage interior. It was quite a thick oak that was blocking our way. I had expected to see a rope or something to aide Geroux in his mission, but no. He rolled up his sleeves, leant over and began pushing the top end of the tree in bursts of might.

Pierre would have been no sooner able to accomplish this feat, than I would have been able to take flight to the clouds above. So my audible "Oh my goodness!" was warranted. Geroux smiled, "It's not as heavy as it looks," he offered.

So with no pause for thought, I walked directly over to the tree trunk and stood next to Geroux to assist. I bent over and pushed the tree with every ounce of vigour that my frame allowed for, only to fall like a house of cards. What a sight that would have been. Me in my (well, Geroux's ex-wife, I believe) Sunday best spearing head-first into the ground, legs akimbo. Sadder still, I had not moved the trunk an inch.

To my surprise, Geroux did not laugh, but rather helped me to my feet. "Are you alright?" he asked with genuine concern. "Physically yes," I said, brushing off twigs and dirt, "My ego is somewhat tarnished. However, I think you and I have differing opinions on weight."

He smirked at that. "Here," he said, before taking me under my arms and lifting me onto the length of the tree trunk. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Hold on," he instructed. I gripped two rigid branches, as Geroux pushed the tree trunk it rotated bit by bit, spinning me as it did. It was ever the sensation, I must say.

Geroux turned the trunk ninety-degrees, so it was now in line with the carriage. He helped me down and told me to stand back as he pushed the tree trunk, from the middle this time, off to the side of the path.

Although this was quite the accomplishment, I am sure he could see my mind was elsewhere. "Does my strength perturb you?" asked Geroux in a curiously timid voice. "No, not at all," I replied. "Then what is concerning you?" he inquired.

"I know this must sound absurd, It's just that I have not been able to help but notice an unusually distinct absence of wild roses. All through this forest and from what I have viewed of your grounds, not a rosebud in sight. They are my favourite bloom and I was looking forward to seeing them on this trip as they hold some of my fondest childhood memories."

Why bother asking such a question to such a man? Why did I find a lack of roses bizarre enough to mention after everything I have been through?

"You have quite the eye for botany," began Geroux, "Roses do not grow here. Every rose seed sown never blossoms and any rose bush replanted here withers and dies. They used to grow here, but have not for a long time. The closest roses are at least a two-day round trip. Quite a distance for for a simple flower."

"Mother used to grow roses, is all," I said, the sentence dying on the wind. Again, I was sharing more information than I ought to be comfortable sharing with Geroux, but the thought of losing papa was bringing up memories of when we lost mother and caused me to act out of character.

"Come now, we must continue," said Geroux, herding me back into the carriage.

Just before he rode off, I heard the familiar chortle of the spotted cuckoo.

Home was close.

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