Part 9

The excursion to the jeweler was a delightful one to Chuck. It had been the very first time that he had seen her unrestrained, eagerly poring through the collection with the abandon of a child in a chocolate shop. Of course, being Blair Waldorf, she would exhibit such excitement over diamonds. He was grateful once again that he had enough resources to satisfy what Chuck now discovered was her one guilty pleasure.

"Carolina de Medici adored this particular set," the jeweler offered.

Chuck watched the way her eyes sparkled as the mahogany box was displayed. As the jeweler was about to lift the lid, she lifted a hand in a gesture of patience. Slowly, with her fingers, she traced the carved C on the cover. And then she took in a deep breath and nodded to the jeweler.

And there, in its velvet bed, the collection lay asleep. With a small smile, she touched the ruby and diamond studded choker. "Tis almost sinful," he heard her whisper. Blair reached for the bracelet and held up her wrist towards Chuck. "Will you please, my lord?"

Chuck took her wrist in his hand, causing her to gasp and move closer to him. With a playful smirk, he set the clasp on the bracelet and watched as she proudly observed the shimmer of the stones against her skin.

"Is it not beautiful, Chuck?"

Even the childhood name on his lips sounded like a challenge. He nodded, as if consenting to a child. With his eyes never leaving her face, he answered, "The most spectacular sight I've beheld."

She flushed, and breathlessly turned to the jeweler instead of the marquis to help remove the bracelet. She returned the items, and exclaimed, "But we are here for my ring."

Chuck nodded at the jeweler, who then placed a small box on the table. Blair reached for the box with eager hands, but Chuck took it in hand first. "You must allow me the proper proposal, my lady."

Blair's eyes shone as she nodded slowly, held his gaze as he, with a smirk, got up from his seat and knelt on one knee at her feet. He lifted the cover of the box and held it up to her. "Will you do me the sublime honor of becoming my wife, Blair?"

The smile was slow to curve her lips, but was more brilliant than any precious stone in the entire shop. Blair did not take her eyes off of his when she answered, "A thousand yeses, my lord."

The answer, expected as it had been, still winded the marquis. It was, perhaps, the way she phrased it, or that her smile was so lovely. And then it occurred to him, that with the pleasure she took in poring through the jewels that had been paraded in front of her, she did not even once glance at the ring he presented. "You did not even see if the ring is acceptable to you."

"It matters not, my lord." Still, without looking at the ring, she held out her hand so that he could slip the diamond onto her finger. "I am satisfied with you."

He chuckled, then nodded towards the door. "I will settle with the man. Shall I meet you in the carriage, Blair?"

She shook her head. "I wish to walk. It's a lovely day."

"Then walk we will."

Blair made her way to the door, and Chuck watched from his seat as her ringed hand fisted and unfisted, and knew she was exerting her very best effort to not look. Knowing what he had just discovered about her, he knew it was an uphill battle that she would eventually lose. He turned back to the jeweler to make arrangements on the funds transfer. The deal was interrupted by a high, delighted squeal. Chuck turned and broke into a large smile as he saw his fiancé flying through the shop towards him.

He caught laughingly as she threw herself on him. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" she cried, jumping for joy.

"I take it you are satisfied with my selection," he prodded.

Blair held out her hand and looked admiringly at the cut stone, impressive in detail, with clarity that almost made her weep. "I was near crying when I surrendered the Vanderbilt diamond to you, because I adored it so."

"I noticed," he said wryly. "Does my ring nearly compare?"

"That it is from you, my lord, allows the ring to transcend comparison." The words carried more weight to Chuck, and his smile vanished at the realization that there was something behind the words. Blair shook her head, and brightened, so he would not have to ask. "But of itself, the ring is wonderful, Chuck. I love it."

He took her hand in his, and nodded goodbye to the jeweler. He led her out into the street and pointed out the domed tower that they were to visit. "Will you be able to walk that distance, Blair?" She held onto his hand and walked.

The Santa Maria was a large brick and mortar domed church in the heart of the city, with a history so ancient that Blair could almost, when she closed her eyes and breathed, hear the hustle and bustle of the centuries passing by her. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she made her way down the aisle. There was a young girl lighting a candle at the offertory, an older man sweeping the floor, and a black-veiled woman in prayerful silence.

The very nature of the building brought the temperature inside several degrees lower than that of the rest of Florence. She stopped halfway to the altar and raised her head, marveling at the stained glass windows that depicted different stations of the cross, different symbols from the Book. She shivered involuntarily.

She felt a warm hand grasp hers. Blair turned to see Chuck watching her carefully. She smiled, a small smile, because mirth did not seem to have a place in a sanctuary this solemn. He brought her hand up to his lips and brushed a tender kiss on the pulsepoint at her wrist.

"Qu'est-ce qui se passé?" she whispered, afraid if she were any louder she would affect the beautiful solemnity of the place.

"Je n'ai aucune idée."

"Non." Blair stepped forward and brought her other hand to close over their clasped ones. "You do."

He closed his eyes and placed another kiss on her fingers now. He turned his head towards the altar. His gaze settled on the cross, where the bloody image of Christ hung nailed and bleeding. Slowly, he turned his eyes back to hers. His lips parted, and he swallowed. "Je vous—je t'—"

She waited with bated breath. "Oui?"

Chuck took a deep breath, tried once more, and failed. His gaze was miserable when he apologized. "I'm sorry."

Sadly, she nodded. "Ça ne fait rien." Blair's eyes fluttered closed when he leaned and placed a kiss on her forehead. "In the future, maybe?"

Chuck wrapped his arm around her waist, and they made their way down the aisle of the grand church to stand in front the altar. Blair moved out of his arms and made her way to the front pew. He turned and quietly observed as she tucked her skirt under her knees as she knelt on the wooden plank and bowed her head. She was as much of an image to behold here as she was dancing in La Fleur, or singing in Paris. He looked back up at the grand images in front of him

And then he walked to the pew to sit near her, waiting, watching. She raised her head and turned to him. "My lord," she whispered.

He held out his hand, and she took it without hesitation. "We will marry in London, in front of all the guests you want. It will be the biggest affair in Society, and if you want, my father will walk you down the aisle, and my stepsister will ride with you on an open white carriage pulled by the most handsome Arabians we can find." She smiled at the image that he painted, because it seemed to come straight out of fairy tales that she doubted he read. "We will have the best dressmakers create you a gown with a train so long and grand that it would seem like a river of crystals had flooded the length of the cathedral."

"I have no need for a wedding so grand, my lord."

"But I will give it to you," he promised. "And we will make certain your friends are there, your mother if you wish her to be, and Dorota." Her eyes lit up. "Definitely Dorota."

"That would be lovely."

"But for right now," he said, his voice low and deep, "will you marry me here, without the trappings and the strangers." He held his breath, prepared for a refusal.

"And the banns?" was her first question. "Three Sundays still we have to wait for the banns to be read, my lord. By that time, we would be in England." Chuck released a breath, and she laid her head on his shoulder. And then a thought occurred to her. "We can get a license in London. Then we do not need to wait."

But she knew what he wanted, and the Santa Maria del Fiore, despite that she had only been there once, seemed the perfect setting for this personal moment. She squeezed his hand. "Before the turn of the century, anyone can be married without banns or special licenses," Blair said, almost reverently, as if it were an epiphany. "All they needed were to say the words, and a witness."

He studied her quietly, searching her earnest face for hesitation. Instead, he found a tender regard and a spark of excitement. She nodded, and pulled him with her towards the front of the church. Blair walked towards the old man who now swept dirt out the church doors. She returned to Chuck with animated eyes. "Maximo will be our witness."

Chuck shook his head. "Maximo does not understand English or French, my love."

At the endearment, she sucked in her breath. Chuck must have realized the term that fell smoothly from his tongue, and turned to the church. "And I speak no Italian," she said sorrowfully.

"I will understand you," he assured her. "That is what matters."

The veiled woman that they had earlier encountered rose from her seat, and parted her black veil. "Amanda Hardy. I will stand as your witness," she offered, speaking in smooth English. "But you are aware, this is not a legal marriage in Toscana."

Blair nodded happily. "It will be real enough for us, for now."

The woman agreed. "Life is too short to be wasted on the trappings of law or Society. Look at me, destitute and alone in a foreign country, praying for the departed soul of a musician that stole me away from my debutante Season in Almack's." Before Blair could express her condolence, the older woman cut her off. "And I have no regrets. Go on. Get married the way you want to."

Blair nodded, and turned to Chuck as he raised their clasped hands. He asked, "Are you certain that you wish for this?"

"More than ever," she answered. "How do we do this?"

Chuck's eyebrows rose, then furrowed, because of all the weddings that he had been invited to, he had never once considered reading up on how people wed before the marriage bill. "How did they do it?" he asked uncertainly. And then he turned to Amanda. "How did you do it?"

Amanda shook her head. "My musician and I did it right and proper with the banns read in this very church."

Blair bit her lip. "I think they just tell each other they're married," she told Chuck.

"There's time enough for our well considered vows during our London wedding," he said. He tightened his hands around hers. "I take thee to wife."

"And I take thee as my husband," she replied. They stood in silence, waiting for something they did not know. They looked at each other, then at Amanda, and then at the cross. "What now?" Blair blurted out.

"Well," Amanda drawled, "if this were the early eighteenth century, you two would have been married. Unfortunately, it is not." She turned to leave. "Go on home to England and marry her properly," she told Chuck, and then walked back up the aisle to the church doors.

Left alone, Blair blinked up at Charles. "We're married," she whispered.

"We are," he agreed, pulling her into his arms. "I think even last century, they ended their weddings with a kiss, Lady Hartington."

~o~o~o~o~

It was a scene straight out of some nightmare, Serena thought, as she milled about the ladies and gentlemen of the ton who deigned to flock to Anne Archibald's victory party. In fact, it was a gathering to formally announce Serena's engagement to Nathaniel Archibald, but in the grandiose manner that Anne greeted each guest, it seemed more like Lady Anne's own celebration than her own.

She searched the crowd for her betrothed, but found Nathaniel's angelic, tortured face nowhere. Since their lives had been planned right before their eyes, and the Admiral carted his son off, she had not had a chance to speak to him, and she needed to do so. Serena decided that a cup of punch would do much to reenergize her for her search. She made her way to the refreshment table when her keen ears caught wind of the conversation.

"What did you expect?" Lady Castlemaigne said in a loud whisper. "She's French!"

The three ladies tittered at the sly comment. "Honestly, to vanish into nowhere with no chaperone!" The speaker clucked her tongue. "It's in her blood, after all," added Mrs Roberts.

"And Lord Hartington is a handsome figure of a man."

Mrs Roberts shook her head. "What I don't understand is how she can commit such a grand faux pas. It's not as if she were raised by wolves. Every lady knows to get a ring to seal the deal."

"I cannot believe she would live with him out of wedlock," Kitty Addison confided. "Then again," her voice dropped into a whisper. "Some say she had been seducing her own brother for years."

"It's an affair, a scandalous affair. That's what it is. If that is acceptable behavior in Paris, she will be sorely shattered when she arrives in England."

"Poor Lord Nathaniel. But he is fortunate at least he need not worry about a French wife."

Serena's hands fisted at her sides. She opened her mouth to defend her brother and the Lady Blair. Before she could speak however, Nathaniel appeared from behind the circle of ladies and cut in. "I will have you know, my ladies, that Lady Blair had been the portrait of chastity before Lord Charles came into her life."

Lady Castlemaigne jumped off the seat. "Oh. Lord Nathaniel!"

Nathaniel raised his hand and gestured for the old woman to sit down. "If you wish to lay the blame on anyone, it should be on Charles' shoulders."

"What!" Serena protested. Her eyes narrowed, she pulled Nathaniel away from the biddies and into a private room. She jammed her finger on his chest. "Lay the blame on Chuck?" she repeated in disbelief.

Nathaniel set his jaw. His gaze flickered to her. "Blair was a sweet, innocent child when I met her. And I know Chuck. He will treat this as any one of his affairs, and she would be left in the dust."

"Nathaniel, Chuck is your best friend. You do not honestly believe—"

"I do," Nathaniel interrupted. "I should have known better than to trust him with my bride, and expect him to keep his promise."

"You must withhold judgment," she started. "We do not know how he feels."

"Feels?" Nathaniel repeated. "Do you know how he spoke of Lady Blair when I first told him about her? She is a game to him, Serena. I fear for her once she returns and learns what man she had installed her faith in. She is nothing to Chuck but a strange new flavor he wishes to try out."

"I cannot believe you think this," Serena muttered.

"My mother and father think they control my actions. Your father believes he can pay this off with your dowry," Nathaniel said bitterly. "Well not anymore. I stood in that room, ten years ago, and promised to protect that girl. And I am a man of my word, unlike Chuck," he finished, viciously spitting out the name.

She grew cold, yet her heart leapt to her throat at the same time. "What is it you're saying, Nate?"

"Your brother did not keep his promise to me. But I am keeping my promise to Lady Blair."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you going back on our engagement?"

"I'm still affianced to Lady Blair until she faces me and breaks off the engagement herself," Nathaniel answered stubbornly.

Serena fisted her hands, keeping herself from screaming when Nathaniel turned away from her and started walking out the door, back to the party. "Could you not have had this revelation when we were in the duke's library?" she demanded. "And not in the middle of our engagement party?" She called to him. "Nathaniel, come back here!" She had never been more humiliated in her life.

Angered, Serena stalked over to the door and searched the crowd. She saw him at the other end of the room, watching her. She made her way to him. "Daniel!"

"This is a lovely party," he commented.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Why are you here?"

His gaze dropped to her hand, and Serena knew, just knew because of how well she had come to known Daniel Humphrey, that he wanted to reach for her hand. In a crowded room, there was no way he would do so. "Serena, we have known all along that the day would come when you will be married off to a lord, or a gentleman of impressive means."

When Nathaniel turned her away, all she felt was the shame of humiliation, the fear of becoming a laughingstock. Hearing this from Daniel, she was afraid her heart would stop. "Daniel, Nathaniel and I are—"

He held up a hand in a request for silence, and she respected him enough to stop speaking then. "I cannot watch this play over and over again." He smiled sadly. "Aaron Rose did and it drove him half mad. I am leaving before the sight of you being pawned off to men better than I am drives me to the brink."

His hand rose to touch hers, but stopped short of coming in contact. Daniel drew a deep, steadying breath, then walked out.

tbc