AN: This part went longer than expected, so you will not see Nate, Vanessa and Serena until the next update. I hope you will be happy with this part though.
Part 6
The thunder roared outside while the rain poured. Clad only in his robe and a pair of silk pants, Chuck stood in front of the glass windows and watched the torrential showers and hoped that it would calm by morning. He had traveled on choppy waters before, but this would be the first time he would do it with a lady in tow. He had no wish to nurse Lady Blair while she pitched dizzily from one side of her cabin to the other, green with nausea and unpleasant in conversation.
In truth, he wondered how he could spend even the night knowing that Lady Blair was just in the other room. When he had taken on the task of retrieving Nathaniel's bride, Chuck never considered into the equation an attraction to the young woman. When Nathaniel spoke about Lady Blair in the carriage, Chuck had pictured… nothing really. The important facts about her he of course remembered. Nathaniel had been engaged to the girl for ten years, and it was a given that she had inherited more than enough money to salvage the Archibald name. Nathaniel had called her a pretty child, and referred to big hair and a small frame. That was it.
One of these days he would sit Nathaniel down and teach him how to properly paint a picture with words. Lady Blair had been nothing close to how Nathaniel had described her. Chuck was completely unprepared for the woman, and it was unfair. Nathaniel should have given a more suitable description and given Chuck Bass a chance to brace himself against the onslaught of Blair Waldorf.
Even the letter she had written herself spoke little about her. Chuck had held the letter in his hands and skimmed through it himself. In what he had read, she sounded like a damsel in distress, and he had said the very thing to Nathaniel—a fact that the other man had not refuted.
Seeing her for the first time, on the stage of the gentleman's club he and Daniel had stumbled into in hopes of finding out more about Lady Blair's situation, Chuck had his very breath sucked out of his lungs. Not knowing that it was Nathaniel's bride he was watching, he allowed himself free rein to desire what was apparently a little innocent playing the role of the temptress. He had allowed the slow stirring low in his belly as her hips swayed, as she extended her arms and showed that expanse of pale, flawless skin. Chuck had allowed himself to imagine the sensation of burying his face in the cloud of dark hair that framed her face.
Nathaniel should really have described Blair Waldorf better than he did. He should have shown Chuck a portrait at least, so that the moment he saw her, he could have reined in his desire at first sight.
There was a flash of lightning momentarily brightening the room. At the same time as thunder crackled, there was a loud rap on his door. He walked towards the door and pulled it open.
Chuck Bass had expected Daniel Humphrey to be outside, come to ask for any last requests before he turned in for the night. Now if Nathaniel had given him a better background of Blair Waldorf, Chuck may have been prepared for the possibility that it could be Lady Blair standing outside in her robe. He registered the surprise in her eyes, and the way her gaze flitted from his face to the loose knot of the silk belt of his robe. Blair Waldorf's eyes widened briefly before her gaze flew back to her face.
"My lady," he said softly. "Is something the matter?"
He saw her tongue peek out as she moistened her lips. "I apologize for bothering you, my lord."
"Nonsense," he replied. "Who else should you come to than your future husband?" At the back of his mind he wondered exactly when he thought it best to reveal the truth to Lady Blair, that he was merely on a mission for his best friend, and that she was still on her way to marry who she always believed she would marry.
She flushed prettily, and Chuck felt butterflies flit around in his stomach where the low stirring was in La Fleur Noire. To be honest, he much preferred the warm stirring. He was familiar with the warm stirring that threaded towards his loins. These butterfly wings fluttering in his stomach were strangers to him. "I was wondering if you could help me out, my lord. My room has gone cold." She jumped at the rumble of thunder.
"Certainly," he assured her. Her anxious face broke into a relieved smile, and Chuck tamped down the urge to experience that same kiss again. He had made the mistake once, though none the wiser at the time. He had even made the brief mistake in her bedroom, when he had kissed her shoulder. Both times he had deemed the actions right, but both times, he realized now, he was in the control of some strange power that he needed to stop immediately.
If Nathaniel had told her that Lady Blair sang so, then Chuck would have expected and been guarded against the angel behind the piano. And he would not get the urge to ask her what songs she knew to sing. "Stay in my room. We don't want you to catch a cold."
Chuck strode down the corridor to the room they had rented for her, just next door to his so that she could easily come to him for help as she did. Close enough that Chuck could barely restrain himself from knocking on her door herself. He entered the room and saw that the fire was dying. He knelt in front of the fireplace and stoked the embers, then added more wood.
He heard the door close and felt her presence behind him. Without turning around, he asked, "I thought I asked you to stay in my room."
"You didn't ask, my lord," she replied. "I thought it best that this early on you were apprised that I believe in an equal marriage. It's what my mother had with my late father."
One of the things Nathaniel forgot to inform him as well. It would have been helpful to know about Blair Waldorf's propensity for acting out of the prescribed norms—such as dancing in clubs or demanding an equal marriage. Chuck suspected heavily that these were things Nathaniel did not know either. During their last conversation, Nathaniel seemed stuck on the concept of his perfect, rich, young wife.
"After all, I will be bringing a lot into this marriage," Blair added.
It was his turn to smirk. Chuck turned his head to face her and was shocked to see her leaning in so close. He cleared his throat. "I am not bringing a pittance into this union myself," he responded, unable to keep himself from countering. Chuck told himself to stop, because he should not add it to the deception and allow her to keep believing that he was her fiancé. But the smug, self-important challenge in her face was unmistakable. "Lady Blair, you are aware that I am the only heir to the duke of Devonshire, and a marquis by my own right. My father and I hold the earldom of Weatherly. The townhouse in London I am living in is my father's, but my own is being constructed at this very moment in Picadilly. I have an estate of my own in the country, with a mansion so large and fine that people from the area call it The Palace. My inherited businesses and my own equal—"
"Spare me the list, my lord Charles," Blair interrupted. Chuck's eyebrows rose. "I've had all this information since my mother dropped your name at the breakfast table."
"And you're unimpressed?" he asked. The fire was burning steady now, and Chuck turned fully towards her.
She shrugged. "I'm duly impressed, but it changes nothing. I have no need for your wealth, so it matters not either way."
Chuck stood up and in doing so, his bedrobe parted. Blair stood to face him as well, so close Chuck could swear that the warmth he felt was from her body and not the fire. "Lady Blair?"
She smiled up at him, and he felt his hold on his control slowly unraveling. "I want to love you, Lord Charles." Blair reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. "If you are who I've got for this lifetime, I want to love you. It's preferable than spending my life in the bed of a man I despise."
Chuck held himself up stiffly. He looked down at her, with her slightly parted lips, her smooth shoulder peeking out of the loose robe, her eyes half lidded. He raised a trembling hand and pushed a lock of dark hair back then tucked it behind her ear. "My lady, you are absolutely beautiful tonight." He pulled away carefully, slowly. Chuck backed away from the room. "The room is warm now. Have a good night's rest."
He had lain in bed awake that night, staring at the watermarks on the ceiling of his hotel room. From the other side of the thin walls, he heard the muffled sobbing that meant that she was holding the pillow over her mouth. Chuck had fought the urge to return to her door and take her in his arms. She was a girl of eighteen, after all. Despite the bravado, he understood how terrifying it must be to know that your life had been signed over to a stranger. If she had a choice, if her stepbrother had not been such an uncontrollable bastard, if her mother had not been so bent in marrying her daughter off, Chuck wondered if she would still be here with him.
Nathaniel should have described Blair Waldorf better, and warned Chuck that there would be endless moments when he would have the urge to take her into his arms to comfort her. Then Chuck would be armed with the most suitable responses to use so he could soothe her.
When he had convinced himself that sleep would not find him that night, Chuck reached for his pocketwatch that had been lying on the bedside table. It was nearly dawn, and they had better start moving. Chuck drew out a pair of riding trousers, a white shirt and his riding jacket. He opened his door to find Daniel Humphrey outside with a tray for breakfast.
"Right on time, Humphrey." Chuck took the tray from the secretary's hands, then jerked his head towards the other room. "If you can knock on the door for me."
Daniel gave him a confused look, then did as he was told. They were both surprised when Lady Blair opened the door already dressed in her traveling suit. Chuck raised the tray, as if it were a peace offering. Lady Blair nodded and stepped aside, allowing both men to enter her room.
Chuck pulled a chair for Blair at the small table in the corner of the room. Blair settled in and reached for a croissant as the two men sat themselves.
"I am hoping that you marry me as soon as you can," Blair said idly as Chuck sipped his coffee. Chuck stopped and arched an eyebrow at her. "There are two men in my room and I have no chaperone."
"We're engaged," Chuck pointed out.
"And as yet unmarried," Blair pointed out. To that point, Daniel agreed and nodded along. "If this spreads in the ton, I would be utterly ruined. Only destitute men will have me."
Chuck shook his head at the irony that he himself was taking her straight into the arms of a destitute man. He turned to Daniel, who had bitten halfway into his croissant. The man, having honed his skill of understanding unspoken requests from his employer, excused himself politely by a simple, "I will check on the carriage."
Alone with Blair, Chuck found himself watching the dainty actions that she made as she had breakfast. He noticed the way she always placed her teaspoon down on the saucer with the face up, just to the right side of the cup, before she lifted the cup to tip it to his lips. Lady Blair also used the fork and the knife to cut through her croissant, then laid the knife beside the remaining bread, before raising the piece of croissant, speared by the fork, to her mouth. With her left hand, she used a napkin to dab at the corners of her lips. And then when she thought he was not looking, her tongue peeked out to lick the sweetness off her lips.
"If there was anything I could do to make this transition better for you, Lady Blair, what would it be?"
She looked up at him in surprise, as if it were the first time she had been asked the question. Blair furrowed her brows, and Chuck ached to reach forward and smoothen it with his thumb. "I just want to be happy, my lord."
"Is an arranged marriage going to make you happy?" he asked softly.
Blair sighed and sat back in her chair. "It doesn't make me unhappy," she admitted slowly. "Lord Charles, I have lived my whole life knowing that a marriage will be arranged for me. My father was the Comte Deschanel. He was a shrewd businessman and a gifted artist. And he had raised me aware that in the absence of a brother, I would be comtesse. I would get everything. And I would have my marriage arranged for me."
He narrowed his eyes. "If you know nothing else, you would not fight against what you're given."
"I was satisfied with his choice. You are not my first fiancé, you know," she mentioned teasingly.
Chuck watched her eyes sparkle with humor, and enjoyed the sight. "Is that right?" he said, cursing himself for not taking the perfect opportunity to tell her about his promise to Nathaniel.
"I was once engaged to a boy, an English lord like you. But he had some problems with his family, and my mother decided to go on a hunt for a more suitable candidate for my hand." And then she shook her head. "A fiance more deserving of my father's wealth," she amended.
"And what about the boy?"
"Gone," Blair replied. She glanced out the window and noticed the light rainfall. "I was used to the idea of marrying him, but he did not keep his promise to me." She rose from her seat and picked up her gloves.
"Will you make me happy, my lord?"
His intention had been simple. Since his best friend could not come to France himself to retrieve his bride, he would do so on his behalf. Now it seemed, as he considered the other party, that it was not so simple. "I will make every effort to do so."
The honest, unambitious answer seemed to satisfy her. "Come, my lord. Let us make haste." She slipped on the gloves.
He slowly stood from the table, moving in slow motion, his eyes trained on her. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated for reasons he knew not what. "Come, my lady. Walk with me." Blair reached up a hand, and Chuck took it in his and laid it on his arm.
Daniel Humphrey had the carriage taken to the entrance of the hotel, so that Lord Charles and Lady Blair would not need to walk the distance through the rain. He waved the carriage onwards, and for a brief moment, between the figures of the horses, he saw the glint of metal flash for a second.
"Gun!" he cried out.
He turned quickly towards the couple waiting by the doorway. He watched in horror as his master turned his back to the doorway, effectively blocking his view of Lady Blair. Lord Charles' figure jerked at the same time that he heard the crackle of gunfire.
"My lord!" Daniel stepped forward towards the shooter, who turned and trained the gun to him. Fear struck a chord in his heart, and he heard Serena's voice in his head, telling him to hide, to protect himself, to come home to her. Instead, he burst into a run. His bravado seemed to shock the man, who scampered away.
"Oh my God!" He heard the muttered prayer from Lady Blair, whose yellow traveling suit was stained with blood. She held Lord Charles in her arms, frantically patting his cheek. "My lord, wake up," she pleaded. Lady Blair raised her tear-stained eyes up towards Daniel, and he realized that he had been just standing helplessly in front of them. "Mr Humphrey, get help!" she yelled at him.
Daniel ran into the hotel and took control. He asked the man to call a doctor, and to prepare the rooms they had only just vacated. Soon, there were two men helping him carry Lord Charles up to the freshly made bed. Blood stained the white sheets. He had half expected Lady Blair to faint and quiver in fear at the sight of the blood. Instead, after Lord Charles was deposited onto the bed, Lady Blair seemed to get a hold on her reactions. She took off the bloodstained gloves and placed it on the bedside table. She leaned Lord Charles' unconscious form and commanded, "Help me lift him, Mr Humphrey."
Daniel walked over to his lord and lifted the heavy form. Blair removed the heavy jacket with effort. He dropped the bloodied cloth on the floor.
"Turn him on his stomach," she whispered. "He was shot in the back."
Daniel did as he was asked. Lady Blair stepped out of the room for a brief moment and returned with a maid following her carrying a basin of water and a pair of scissors. "I will cut the shirt off his back. We don't want to the blood to dry over the wound before the doctor gets here. It will be that much painful to retrieve the bullet."
She took the shirt in hand and positioned the scissors. Daniel grabbed her wrist. "Do you know what you're doing?" he asked, finding no reason for the lady to have knowledge on this.
"I've done this before, Mr Humphrey," she said. Daniel released her wrist. Blair carefully cut around the wound, then moistened the cloth immediately above the wound. Gingerly, she lifted the cloth off. She drew a white handkerchief from her pocket and dipped it in the water. Blair cleaned around the wound. "When will the doctor arrive?"
"The hotel manager said it will be another hour. The hotel doctor is tending another patient in town."
Blair tightened her jaw. "Get Dr Germaine. He works in the General Square in a small office that bears his name in front. Tell him Lady Blair needs him."
"And he will believe me, just like that?"
Blair pulled off her ring, one with a red gemstone embedded around the circle. "Show him this and he will know it's from me. He will come with you within a minute."
Daniel nodded. Before he left, he turned to check on Lord Charles. He saw Lady Blair sitting by his bed, cleaning out the wound.
She was right. At the sight of the ring, the doctor nodded and grabbed his bag. Daniel watched as the doctor placed a CLOSED sign at his door. On the ride back to the hotel, he started up the conversation by setting up the situation. "My lord Charles was shot just outside the hotel. The bullet is embedded still in his back."
The older man nodded. "And has the wound been cleaned?"
"Lady Blair was doing just that," Daniel replied. "I am not certain if she did it right."
"She did it right," the doctor assured him. "Don't fret."
Daniel cleared his throat. "How would Lady Blair know how to clean a gunshot wound?"
"Experience is the best teacher," answered the doctor. "She was a very good student, if a bit emotional at times. But one should understand. She was cleaning her father's wound after all." The doctor clucked his tongue. "Poor mite. She was crying the entire time she could probably barely see through the tears."
Doctor Germaine was quick and efficient. Blair and Daniel stayed in the room the entire time as the doctor extracted the bullet from Lord Charles' back. Daniel gritted his teeth as he watched the entire operation, grateful for the very gift that his lord was unconscious. When the doctor dropped the bullet into the basin of water, and the maid started to take the basic away, Blair raised a hand.
"Please leave it," she requested. "I want to keep the bullet."
Daniel watched as Blair fished the bullet out of the basin and placed it inside her pocket. She turned to the doctor and asked, "How soon before he can sleep on his back?"
"Let the wound heal for about two days, and then he can tell you himself if he's comfortable on his back," the doctor answered. "He will run a fever."
"I know," Blair answered quietly.
"You must get the fever to break before the night is over."
Blair nodded. Daniel observed in fascination as the lady spoke with the doctor about what should be in hand over the night. She turned to look at Daniel, and then back at the doctor. Blair received what seemed to be creams and medication from the doctor. She lined them up neatly on the bedside table. When the doctor left, she turned to the secretary and asked, "Are you ready for a long day?"
He had nodded then, with no expectation about what would happen. Over the day, Daniel brought pots and pots of coffee into the room. Every half hour or less, Blair would reach up and place her palm over Lord Charles' forehead. Every time, she murmured in trepidation.
"My lady, how is it that you know how to treat a gunshot wound?" Daniel finally asked. "It doesn't seem like a skill young ladies learn."
"So you have not interviewed the good doctor?" she asked lightly.
"He mentioned something about experience being the best teacher."
"My father and I used to do many things together." She smiled at the fond memory while peeking under the bandage at Lord Charles' wound. "I was his only child, after all. One of our favorite pastimes is going to the countryside to hunt. We had a small cabin in the middle of nowhere." She looked up at Daniel. "He was a very successful man, and many were jealous of him."
He grew cold at the shift in her voice.
"My mother never went with us on those hunting trips. And so it was I, my father, and his man Geoffrey out in the cabin." Blair's breath hitched. "They said it was a stray bullet, but I know better. I sent Geoffrey for the doctor. It was a half day's ride to town. I was left with my father bleeding from a bullet wound to his gut. He was awake the entire time, giving me instructions to clean his wound." She gave him a grim smile.
"How old were you?"
"My father died three years ago. I was fifteen."
Daniel stuttered. "You mean—"
She gave him a sad smile. "I wasn't a very good nurse. But I learned my lesson."
He did not ask anything else. They returned to the uncomfortable ritual of sitting, waiting and checking. And then at around noon, she drew in a sharp breath. She looked up at Daniel and informed him, "He's burning up."
She had been waiting for the fever. Night came and they worked, alternating as they placed a cold towel on his forehead. When the fever still progressed, Blair curtly asked him to run cold water over the blanket. He returned with the heavy water-laden blanket and helped her cover him with it. It seemed to soothe him until he started shivering. Daniel's eyes were heavy by dawn. She pulled the wet blanket off of Lord Charles.
"Go and sleep, Mr Humphrey," she told him. "You should rest because soon it will be your turn to care for him when I need to rest myself."
Chuck groaned at the tight pain centering somewhere on his back. He tried to raise himself by his elbows, but found it too painful to even move. The pain burned and scorched, and he hissed through his teeth.
The last thing he remembered was lying in Lady Blair's arms, the pain of the gunshot throbbing at his back. He had brief moments of sanity through the night, and felt the cool cloth all over his body.
There were brief moments of consciousness through the night. In each one of them, she was over him, surrounding him, placing a cool hand on his hot brow, or spreading soothing cream over where it burned.
"Everything will be all right, Charles," her voice said soothingly.
And then he had been cold, so very cold, and there was warmth emanating from his side. He turned his head and saw Blair's sleeping face on his pillow.
He shifted painfully, then noted that she was wearing only her chemise, with her leg thrown over his and her arm lying on his back. This was what warmed him through the night. He looked up at her face again and saw the dark rings under her eyes. It hurt, but he managed to raise himself up on his elbow and gingerly slide out of the bed.
The pain exploded on his back, and he grabbed onto the headboard to steady himself. Lady Blair did not stir despite his loud groan. He cast a quick scan of the room, noticing the bloody garments discarded on the floor. He saw himself on the mirror and saw the bandage wrapped around his torso. He turned his back on the mirror and craned his neck, seeing the spots of blood around the area where most of the pain was centered. He reached for a fresh blanket and used it like a shawl.
Chuck opened the door and crossed the corridor, then knocked softly on Daniel's door. The door opened quickly, and blearily, Daniel asked, "My lady?" And then he blinked when he saw it was Lord Charles. "My lord! You're awake." Chuck was surprised when Daniel stepped forward and placed a palm over his forehead. The secretary sighed in relief. "The fever's broken. Lady Blair did a fine job of it."
Chuck scratched his head, and hissed when the movement pulled his muscles. "She's been up all night?"
"She's been working on breaking your fever, my lord. I was going to take the next shift."
Chuck remembered waking up with her nearly naked form pressed against his body, and recognized it as a way of sharing body heat. "Be grateful you did not need to take the next shift." He grinned. "I'm grateful you didn't need to take over her duty."
Daniel smiled, not understanding what Lord Charles meant. "I'm glad you're better, my lord." Chuck gestured towards the room. Recognizing the silent question, Daniel stepped aside, "Of course, my lord." He glanced towards the door of Chuck's room. "And my lady?"
"Your lady?"
Daniel's face warmed, and he did not bother to hide his admiration. "You should have seen her yesterday, my lord. She was—she took very good care of you."
Chuck nodded. "This is why I'm here. I need you to return to England, Humphrey."
"Without you, my lord?"
"Please take down a letter for me."
"Of course, my lord." Daniel rose to get his writing implements. He filled his fountain pen and prepared the paper.
My dearest friend,
I hope this letter finds you well. Due to unforeseen complications, I find it difficult to return home to deliver your bride.
Chuck stopped. "You will rewrite this?" At Daniel's affirmation, he said, "Remove the last sentence. Please write instead…"
Due to unforeseen complications, I find it difficult to return home to deliver Lady Blair as promised. I recognize that there is a pressing need to wed her. I have instructed my father's trusted secretary, Mr Humphrey, to transfer two hundred thousand pounds from my funds to your bank in the meantime. This is more than enough to take care of your need.
"How should I sign it?" Daniel asked quietly, his head reeling at the very act of writing such a ridiculous amount on paper.
Your most loyal friend,
Charles
"Take it to Nathaniel as soon as you can," Chuck instructed. It was the coward's way out, and he recognized it even as he dictated the letter. "Tell my sister I am well."
"Well?"
Chuck glanced towards the door. Only a few feet away, his lady slept in his bed. Across the channel, his best friend waited still. "Tell her I am happy."
"She will ask me where you are."
"I have no reason to keep a secret from Serena. I want to take Blair away. I will take her to visit Italy. I bought a villa in Tuscany that I am certain she will adore."
Daniel read the letter back to Chuck. Afterwards, the secretary asked, "This doesn't say whether or not you successfully retrieved Lady Blair. What shall I tell him, my lord?"
"Tell him you know nothing." And with those words, Chuck knew that he had betrayed his best friend. He pushed the thought to the back of his head. A chambermaid scurried past him as he closed the door of Daniel's room. He called to her and the woman bowed her head to avert her eyes from the naked torso under the blanket. He requested for breakfast to be sent to his room.
Chuck returned to the bedroom and found Blair stirring on the bed. He walked towards her and sat down. She opened her eyes and blinked, then her gaze climbed his body until she was staring into his eyes. She smiled up at him. "Are you well, my lord?" she asked.
Chuck felt the fluttering wings he had recognized before come back and overwhelm him. This time, there were so many that they reached his chest. He took a deep breath. "My lady, I have a desire to escape to Italy with you."
She sat up, her hair disheveled and her cheek creased with the rumpled blanket she had slept on. She had never looked more beautiful. "I have never been to Italy."
"I have a villa in Tuscany. Or we can go to Rome. I want us to go there together." He reached out and took her hand in his, then brushed a kiss across her knuckles. He held her gaze, and though it had been a widely accepted fact that they were to be wed, he asked her for the first time, "Will you marry me there?"
She smiled. "I thought the plan all along was for me to marry you?"
"This is the first time that I'm asking, so please answer the question," he requested.
Blair leaned across the bed and placed a kiss on his mouth. Chuck's lips parted, and he met the kiss. She held his gaze for a longest moment, and then she said softly, "Yes."
tbc