Chapter Text
The morning sun streamed through the dormitory windows as Gwendoline Mary Lacey sat at her dressing table, staring at her reflection without really seeing it. Her mind kept drifting back to that moment in the gardens—Ron’s gentle hands cupping her face, the way time seemed to stop when their lips met, the flutter in her chest that she couldn’t quite name.
“Gwen, are you coming down to breakfast?” Mary-Lou’s voice broke through her reverie.
“In a moment,” Gwen replied, finally picking up her hairbrush with trembling fingers. She’d barely slept, replaying every second of that kiss, wondering what it meant, what would happen next.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Darrell observed, sliding into the seat beside her. “Everything alright?”
Gwen forced a smile. “Of course. Just tired, I suppose.”
But as the morning wore on, she found herself increasingly restless. During French class, Mademoiselle Rougier had to call her name twice before she realized she was being asked a question. In lacrosse practice, she missed three easy passes, earning a sharp look from their games captain.
It wasn’t until after lunch that she finally spotted Ron near the gardens, pruning the rose bushes with his usual careful attention. Her heart did that peculiar flutter again, and she found herself smoothing down her skirt before approaching him.
“Hello, Ron,” she said softly.
He looked up, and for a moment, that same tender expression crossed his face as when he’d kissed her. But then something shuttered behind his eyes, and he returned his attention to the roses.
“Miss Lacey,” he said formally, and the distance in his voice made her chest tighten.
“Ron, about yesterday—”
“Yesterday was a mistake,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. “I shouldn’t have… it won’t happen again.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. “A mistake?”
Finally, he looked at her, and she could see the conflict in his dark eyes. “You’re a student, Gwen. I’m just the groundskeeper’s assistant. There are rules, expectations…”
“I don’t care about rules,” she said fiercely, stepping closer. “What I felt—what we both felt—that wasn’t a mistake.”
Ron’s jaw tightened. “Your father would have me dismissed if he knew. Miss Grayling would—”
“My father doesn’t control my heart,” Gwen interrupted, surprising herself with her boldness. “And neither does Miss Grayling.”
For a moment, Ron’s careful composure cracked, and she saw the longing in his expression. But then he shook his head, turning back to his work.
“It doesn’t matter what we feel, Gwen. The world doesn’t work that way.”
“Then maybe the world is wrong,” she said quietly.
Over the following days, Gwen found herself stealing glances at Ron whenever she could, hoping for some sign that he’d changed his mind. But he maintained his professional distance, greeting her with polite nods when their paths crossed, never letting his guard down again.
It was Sally Hope who finally confronted her about it.
“You’ve been moping around for a week,” Sally said bluntly as they walked to prep one evening. “It’s about Ron, isn’t it?”
Gwen’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Gwen, I’ve seen the way you look at him. And the way he very carefully doesn’t look at you.” Sally’s voice softened. “What happened?”
For a moment, Gwen considered denying everything. But the need to talk to someone, to share this burden, overwhelmed her.
“We kissed,” she whispered. “And now he says it was a mistake.”
Sally stopped walking, staring at her friend with wide eyes. “Oh, Gwen.”
“I know what everyone would say,” Gwen continued miserably. “That he’s beneath me, that I’m being foolish. But Sally, when I’m with him, I feel like… like myself. Not the person my father wants me to be, not the perfect young lady everyone expects. Just me.”
Sally was quiet for a long moment. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Gwen admitted. “He’s made it clear he won’t risk his position. But I can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t pretend I don’t care about him.”
That night, unable to sleep, Gwen slipped out of the dormitory and made her way to the gardens. She often walked there when she couldn’t sleep—the night air and starlight usually helped calm her thoughts.
She was surprised to find Ron there, sitting on a bench beneath the old oak tree, staring up at the moon.
“Can’t sleep either?” she asked softly.
He turned, and in the moonlight, she could see the weariness in his face. “Gwen, you shouldn’t be out here.”
“Neither should you,” she pointed out, settling beside him on the bench despite his obvious reluctance.
They sat in silence for several minutes, the night air sweet with the scent of jasmine.
“I meant what I said,” Ron finally spoke. “About it being a mistake.”
“No, you didn’t,” Gwen said quietly. “You’re afraid. I understand that. But don’t lie to me, Ron. Don’t lie to yourself.”
He was quiet for so long she thought he wouldn’t respond. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“What future could we have, Gwen? Even if… even if your feelings are genuine now, what happens when you leave Malory Towers? When you go back to your world of society parties and suitable young men?”
She turned to face him fully. “I don’t want that world if you’re not in it.”
“You say that now—”
“I mean it,” she said fiercely. “Ron, I’ve spent my whole life being told who I should be, what I should want. But when I’m with you, I know who I am. I’m not going to let fear or other people’s expectations steal that away from me.”
In the moonlight, she could see his resolve wavering. Slowly, carefully, she reached for his hand.
“I’m not asking you to have all the answers,” she said softly. “I just want you to stop pushing me away. Can we try? Just… see what happens?”
For a long moment, he stared down at their joined hands. Then, slowly, his fingers tightened around hers.
“Your father will disown you,” he said quietly.
“Then I’ll make my own way.”
“Society will talk.”
“Let them.”
“I have nothing to offer you but a groundskeeper’s wages and a simple life.”
Gwen smiled, bringing his hand to her lips to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. “You have yourself, Ron. That’s everything.”
When he finally looked at her, the careful walls he’d built around his heart had crumbled, leaving only the love she’d glimpsed that day by the cliff path.
“Gwen,” he whispered, and her name on his lips sounded like a prayer.
This time, when he kissed her, there was no hesitation, no holding back. Just two hearts finally allowed to beat in rhythm, defying all the rules that said they couldn’t.
As they parted, Gwen rested her forehead against his, breathing in the moment.
“What happens now?” she whispered.
“Now,” Ron said softly, his thumb tracing across her cheek, “we figure it out together.”
Above them, the stars seemed to shine a little brighter, as if blessing this unlikely love that bloomed in the gardens of Malory Towers—a love that would face many challenges but had already proven stronger than fear, stronger than expectation, stronger than all the forces trying to keep them apart.
In the distance, the school bell tower chimed midnight, marking the end of one day and the beginning of whatever came next. Together.