Part 7
She watched the miles upon miles of vineyards fly by the window as Marcus drove them back to her father's chateau. His convertible was very sexy. None of her two other ex-boyfriends actually drove anything, partly because she dated one mostly before he was old enough to drive and partly because both lived in Manhattan where it was too much of a hassle to drive yourself. Besides, they could all afford to pay someone else to do the work for them, so why bother? Either way, Blair laid her arm on the window and smiled at the sensation of the wind whipping at her face.
She checked the knot under her chin, for the scarf she used to protect her hair. This was everything she had hoped for when she was a little girl watching Audrey Hepburn movies late into the night. She was in Europe, riding a convertible in the countryside, with a gentleman beside her. She glanced at Marcus' profile silhouetted and shadowed by the sun behind him.
"You're beautiful," she said matter-of-factly. "It's weird."
Marcus' eyebrow arched and he turned to her. "Beautiful is not a word I often hear describing me." She smiled, then nodded towards the road. He focused back on his driving. To Blair's surprise, he slowed the car and pulled up on the side of the road, with the chateau still a small image in the distance. They stopped and Marcus turned his body to her. "And you're beautiful," he continued, taking her hands in his.
Blair sighed and smiled. "Thank you." She pulled her hands away and faced the road again. When he didn't start the car, she furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Marcus.
"Blair, what are you doing?"
She frowned. "What am I doing?" she repeated.
"Do you want to be here?"
She rolled her eyes. "Obviously not," she retorted. "My God, Marcus, we've got the roof down and the sun is right there." Blair pointed to the sky. "My sunscreen is not in my purse. I don't want to come home completely burned and blotchy."
He shook his head. "Not what I mean, Blair. You've been preoccupied the entire weekend," Marcus told her. "Something on your mind?"
"Nothing," she hastily blurted out. When Marcus still did not respond, and Blair just knew that he was watching her, asking himself questions, she sighed. It was tough to date someone older. They constantly thought problems existed where there was none. She thought she was done with all the drama when she and Nate broke up! "Marcus, really, I just miss home," she assured him. "Think about it. You're a perfect gentleman. What could possibly be wrong?"
With a curt nod, Marcus started the car and drove to the Waldorf chateau. Blair hastily got out of the car even before Marcus could make his way from his side to hers. Chuck was probably going to be watching for them from the window, and she did not want the trouble of Chuck Bass angrily glaring at her for any show of affection he witnessed between her and Marcus.
Immediately, when Marcus stopped in front of her, she looked up at the window. Empty. "Thank God," she muttered. At least Chuck was moving on. She made her way into the foyer and frowned. The house seemed so empty. "Where's everyone?" she asked to no one in particular.
Marcus looked around and noticed that the coat hanger was empty as well. "It looks like your father and Roman aren't here either," he observed.
"This doesn't make sense. They knew we were coming back today. They shouldn't have been here waiting."
Just as Blair was supposed to storm up the stairs and check the rooms, she felt a tug on her hand that sent her straight into Marcus' arms. "Hey."
She looked up at him, whose earlier frustration had now smoothed into a smile. "Hey yourself," she replied.
"We haven't been alone like this before," he told her.
She gave him a lopsided smile. "Well I thought the whole point of our weekend in London was to be alone." Blair shrugged her shoulders. "Not my fault your family had to be around all the time. Were they scared that I would take advantage of you?" she teased.
"I think they were scared for my virtue," he parried back.
Blair eyes fluttered closed, and she inhaled deeply in preparation for the kiss, feeling her lips pucker on their own. This was what fairy tales were made of—a grand staircase, a blue-blood holding you in his arms. He buried his fingers in her hair and placed a kiss on her earlobe, then trailed slowly along the line of her jaw. She felt the cold air on her lips and she opened her eyes.
And now Marcus was looking down at her with a smile. Blair frowned. "That's it?"
Marcus' brows furrowed in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"Frankly, Marcus, that wasn't very passionate," she pointed out.
"You're a lady, and I'm a gentleman. I respect you to much to be all over you. Just because there are no chaperones in the house—"
Blair sighed. She smiled. Maybe this was how it was to date someone with real breeding. Nate Archibald and Chuck Bass may be New York Elite, but Anne Vanderbilt was the only one with
class in that marriage and Bart Bass was new money. "You're right," she capitulated. "Thank you, Marcus."
He nodded. "You'll be fine here alone? You can stay with me."
"I'm sure my dad is going to be home soon," she assured him.
Marcus nodded and took her hand in his, then brushed a kiss across her knuckles. When he left, Blair took her phone out of her pocket then dialed her father's phone number.
"Dad? Where's everyone?" A pause. "Oh my God! Is he alright?" Blair raced down the stairs to where her weekend bags still sat, fresh from London. She grabbed the one that contained her essentials, then sat outside. "I'm calling a cab," she said into the phone. "Dad, tell him I'll be right there. Can you buy me a ticket?"
It was the first time in years that he looked fragile to Blair. Always, Chuck Bass was such an imposing figure that he completely dominated the room. This time, seeing him seated in the front pew all alone while Lily shook the hands of their newly arrived guests, Chuck looked small and vulnerable.
His hand rose to quickly comb his hair back with his fingers. Once that was done, he was back to that unmoving statue that stoically stared ahead, his eyes focused on the wreath of white flowers that were so grand that they took up most of view.
"Blair!"
She turned around to see Serena, dressed all in white, run to her. She opened her arms to hug her best friend. "How is he?" she whispered into the blonde's ear.
"Since our hasty departure from France, he hasn't eaten. And the only thing he would even talk about is the arrangements that his father had made. He's so detached."
Blair nodded and made her way to Lily. She murmured her condolences. Gracious as ever, Lily thanked Blair for coming especially since she knew that the young woman wasn't due back for another two weeks. "With Nate away, I'm so glad Chuck had someone to talk to." Idly, Blair wondered if her ex-boyfriend was planning on coming, or if he even knew. Once her father told her, she had immediately decided to fly home and had been unable to tell Nate.
Blair made her way down the aisle towards Chuck. Once she was standing close enough, she laid a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, then slowly, turned his head around and faced up to see who had touched him. The firm set of his jaw and the tears brimming in his eyes that still he would not shed spoke volumes of how he felt, even if, as Serena said, he had talked about nothing but the formalities of the occasion. His eyes flickered with surprise at the sight of Blair. She gave him a small smile, then walked around him to sit beside him on the hard wooden pew.
When she was beside him, she reached for his hand that rested on his thigh. Blair pulled it to her lap and closed both of her hands around it. Chuck turned his hand palm up and allowed her to lace her fingers through them. Blair squeezed his hand.
Slowly, his eyes moved from the steady gaze he had on the flowers down to where their hands were intertwined. Then he looked down at the floor, still silent, seemingly glaring down at the innocent marble.
Blair moved closer to him until she was pressed beside him. She took a deep breath and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Bart's coffin in front of them gleamed under the yellow lights. She felt Chuck bury his face in her hair, and she closed her eyes. Amidst the muffled noises of people coming and going, and Lily's voice as she spoke with the visitors, Blair heard from Chuck finally—from small, soft sniffles that turned into quiet tears. A million years later, she raised her head and looked at him, his eyes swollen and his lips grim. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed the tear tracks on his cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she told him.
Chuck laid his forehead on hers and nodded. He inhaled deeply. "Thank you for coming. I—I know you had plans—"
"It wasn't ever a choice," she told him. "I was always going to come."
tbc
