AN: Here's another update within only a few hours, because there is so much to tell. Brace yourselves.

Part 14

When he arrived at their townhouse, Chuck was far from pacified. In fact, Nathaniel's promise grated still in his ear. It was a simple favor that he had requested, and his response was so vague that Chuck was still not secure in the knowledge that he would not suddenly appear tonight at the Bass table to shatter the already tenuous situation he had with Blair.

Just tell her the truth, his mind whispered. Chuck searched his brain for the best, most suitable way to tell her that the past two months had been lies. And then he opened the door to her bedroom, and the worries melted out of his body. He leaned against the doorframe and watched.

Clad in a dressing down, Blair sat in front of the vanity mirror, with Dorota right behind her brushing even strokes in her hair. A small smile played on his lips. He could watch this every night, one simple ritual. With her long brown hair falling behind her, and her maid counting a hundred strokes, she looked like a medieval princess.

"I can spend every night of my life watching this," he said aloud.

Blair looked up in the mirror and met his smile on the reflection. "My lord, you are home!"

He nodded and walked over to stand beside Dorota. He extended his hand and the maid placed the brush on his palm. With a nod, he dismissed her. Dorota curtsied hastily and left the room. And then, still holding her gaze on the mirror, Chuck continued brushing her hair. His free hand rested on her shoulder, and he watched as she brushed her cheek against the back of his hand. "How was your day, my love?" he asked, needing to know she fared well on the first afternoon that they had to spend apart. After all, now that they were in their real world, there would be endless days when it was possible that they had to be apart. He had businesses to run, travels to do, a life to continue.

"It was interminable without you," she answered, placing the gentlest of kisses against his knuckles. His heart sank at the response, and was glad that he had asked Serena to spend time with her. He should have known it would not be easy to transplant a dainty flower into another soil and just expect her to flourish. "Did you miss me, my lord?" Chuck's breath hitched when she gently bit at the skin of his hand.

With a low growl, he pulled her up and out of the chair, then dragged her body to press against his. She was not Nathaniel's innocent little girl, and he found it laughable that he would think of her only that way. "You need to restrain yourself, my lady," he said huskily.

The intent in her gaze was apparent. She narrowed her eyes and stoop on tiptoes. She took the hairbrush from his hand and dropped it on the floor. Blair's fingers buried themselves in the hair at the back of his head. She pulled him down for kiss at the same time that she pushed her body against his.

"Blair," he breathed against her lips, "what are you doing?"

"Make love to me," she breathed back, in between kisses. "I missed you so."

The words made his head spin. Against his better judgment and completely outside of his plans, he found himself placing his hands on her bottom and pulling her body to him. Dark was falling, and they were expected at the duke's house, but his young bride was eager and his body was even more earnest.

"What shall I do, my lord?" she gasped. "What must I do so that you will make love to me now?"

Chuck breathed deeply, then heaved her up. She opened her legs and hooked them around his hips. The dressing gown fell to the sides, baring herself to him. He carried her the few steps to the bed and they tumbled over onto it. They fell on top of three gowns, and he knew they had been selected for the night. One of the gowns was the red silk he had suggested after all. He could not think to stop then. Her hands frantically pushed at the cravat wrapped around his throat. When she managed to pull the white cloth away, she threw it over his head.

She tore her lips away from his and made her way up his jaw towards the lobe of his ear, then gave a small, playful bite. She spied the cut just below his cheekbone, then pulled away. She ran her thumb over the wound. "You are hurt, my lord."

Chuck pulled her hand away from the evidence of his brawl with Nathaniel. "Tis nothing, my love. It's but a nick from a shave." He looked down at her as she lay beneath him. His hand reached out to push the bedrobe off her shoulder, slowly and gingerly as if he were revealing something precious. He bared a breast and kissed the tip. Blair moaned and closed her eyes. "You are getting fuller, my love," he said against the skin of one globe. Every day, there were little things such as this that he would discover about her, the same way he had earlier learned that her maid would brush her hair at night. In a few months he would trace a pattern then of the days her body would swell beautifully, and when it would wane—like a moon.

She fingers in his hair tightened. "Am I getting fat?" she gasped.

He freed himself, then settled his body between her legs. "You are becoming more beautiful," he responded. Chuck placed a kiss on her chin, then positioned himself. With one smooth move, he pushed inside her. Her lips fell open and she sighed.

Afterwards, as they lay together in her bed, with her wrapped around him and her head resting upon his chest, he heard her whisper, "I love you." Blair held her breath, because every time he said them back had been the best moments of their time together. Chuck sighed in contentment and placed a kiss on her temple. She blinked away the tears that suddenly rose in her eyes.

"I do not wish to move, my love," he said then, after a quarter of one hour had passed. "But we need to make our way to dinner."

She pulled away from him and sat up. Blair closed her undone robe and stood up, her head hung low.

"Blair—" he said. She looked up at him quickly, waiting. He must have realized what he had forgotten to say, and she eagerly listened for the words. "Can you still use the silk?"

With downcast eyes, she inspected what had been an utterly lovely blood red silk gown. "No, my lord. We have completely ruined it," she said softly. And it was the perfect excuse. Blair allowed her tears to fall, because now they had a reason to. "I wanted it to be a perfect night. And it is utterly destroyed," she sniffled.

Warm arms surrounded her. She sniffled against his skin. "No, no, no, Blair. You have dozens of beautiful gowns."

She shook her head, her beautiful hair moving as she did. "This was not how I pictured it," she insisted, knowing full well she was venting her frustration on his pitiful response to her declaration of love through a situation that was woefully shallow. "You ruined it, Chuck."

The way he accepted the reason for her spontaneous crying was enough to crush her. Yet very sweetly, he placed kiss in her hair. "I have something to make you feel better. I was going to give it to you before dinner."

She followed him with her eyes as he pulled open one of the closet drawers and took out a familiar box. Blair's eyes widened as he lifted the lid to reveal the Medici diamond necklace and bracelet resting on their velvet bed. "Chuck," she gasped, "I did not think you purchased it."

"I saw the look on your face when you tried them on and thought if I could make you that happy again, then no expense is too steep." He lifted the necklace and placed the cool stones on her throat, then wrapped the bracelet around her wrist. "Do you feel better now, my love?"

He meant no harm, she knew. Her heart sank at the reality of where they were, so soon upon their return. When once, when she was all he had, they spent each moment together and he could freely return or initiate a declaration of love, the world had taken an extreme yet completely expected turn. This was London, the monster he had told her not to fear. London was his world, larger and fuller than their little villa atop a Tuscan hill. In London he could leave her for a day to be with his family, or friends, or even to work. In London, Chuck was Lord Hartington and he had businesses and a reputation, and he could not be seen on the street receiving a kiss on the cheek.

Her hand flew to the diamond on the hollow of her throat. This was how Lord Hartington mended her imperfect night.

In response to his question, she gave him a smile. "They are beautiful."

And he seemed satisfied with the answer. "Come," he invited, with his hand stretched out towards her. "We shall search your closet for another dress to wear. We are late for dinner."

She placed her hand in his and walked with him. He opened the closet and looked through the rows of clothing that the maids had hung. Blair remembered a lovely emerald green empire dress that she had admired that morning. She spotted it on the opposite end of the closet, and let go of Chuck's hand. She looked up quickly to reach for it. The quick movement made her vision spin. She had the same dizzy spell that she had told him about that morning in the carriage, only this time, standing up, it sent her reeling. She clutched at the handle of the closet door and hung on.

"Blair?" Then he was right beside her, right at the moment that her knees buckled. He held her up by her arms. "Sweetheart, what is it?" he said softly.

She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest. She did not open her eyes until she felt the world stop spinning from under her feet. Blair finally opened her eyes and saw his concerned face. She patted his cheek reassuringly. "Another dizzy spell," she told him.

"We should stay home," he offered tentatively.

She started to shake her head, but stopped immediately when she started to get nauseated. Blair took a deep breath. "No. I know we need to go." She pointed to the green gown she had set her sights on. "Will you reach for this, my lord?"

~o~o~o~o~o~

Jasper, the Bass butler, opened the door and admitted the marquis and his lady. Nathaniel stopped at the top step where he had been waiting. He fixed his cravat, then pulled his jacket more snugly around his form. He had led Chuck to believe that he would avoid dinner tonight, as requested. Yet as he sat in the pub, waiting for Vanessa to complete her workday to discuss his problem, he realized that this would be his only chance.

She was lovelier than he imagined, he thought once he saw Chuck lead Lady Blair into the foyer. She had the same long brown hair that he remembered from the last time he saw her when she was fifteen years old. And Chuck was correct when long ago, even before he had met Lady Blair, he told Nathaniel that so much could change in three years. His best friend's palm rested on the small of her back, and he helped her take off her coat.

Nathaniel took the first step down to intercept them as he planned, so that even before the evening could begin, she would know that Nathaniel was still there, that he did not abandon her, that he would have kept his ten year promise to her. His attention, however, was caught by the quiet movements that were uncharacteristic of his friend. Nathaniel watched as Chuck gave the coats to the butler, then turn to Blair and cup her cheek. He seemed to ask her something, but Nathaniel was too far away to hear. She nodded her head, and Chuck pulled her close to place a kiss on her forehead.

They walked towards the dining room. Chuck fell a step behind her. When he was right at the bottom of the stairs, Chuck looked up and met Nathaniel's gaze. Nathaniel drew in a breath, unaware that Chuck had known he was watching. He nodded at his friend, his silent way of assuring Chuck that he would not be attending the dinner. In return, Chuck gave a nod of his own.

"Thank you," he mouthed.

Nathaniel waited for Blair and Chuck to enter the dining room. He then made his way down the steps and went out the door. The pub was likely still open. He hoped that Vanessa served good dinner there as well. He had a hankering for meat, and it seemed like he was getting none of the sumptuous Bass meal tonight.

~o~o~o~o~o~

The moment they stepped into the dining room, the three other occupants turned. Chuck's hand was warm on her back, and she was grateful for the support he provided. He could easily take charge over the introductions, but Blair drew herself together. She told herself to be brave. In front of these people, Chuck's family, the duke, the duchess and his stepsister, she needed to become Lady Blair Waldorf. She had never been a simpering flower in Paris. She was not going to be one here.

Chuck had already shown her today that he would not always be right beside her.

"You will be fine, my love. They will adore you as much as I do," he had assured her.

She had seen her share of debutantes withering under the scrutiny of a lord's family to believe his words at face value. If she wanted to survive in London, she had to do it apply the training she had been given all her life. The last thing Eleanor Waldorf's daughter would be told was that she lacked breeding. Harold had already taken care of the money anyway.

It was time to show them that she had the social grace for this family.

"Lady Blair," greeted Lilly warmly. The duchess walked towards the younger woman and took Blair's hands in hers, then kissed her on the cheeks.

"Your grace," Blair greeted with a smile. She stepped away from Chuck, and his hand fell away from her back. "You are as lovely as Lord Hartington mentioned."

Chuck glanced at her in surprise. He had never seen her so interact with other people on the level she was doing now. Even in her own mother's masquerade ball, she had been the lonely girl in the music room. She smiled at him, and he realized he was watching a completely different Blair, the Blair Waldorf he had never met—it was debutante Blair. He cleared his throat. "Lord Hartington?" he repeated. Blair had never referred to him by that title. It sat uneasily in his stomach to hear her refer to him by that name. Debutante Blair, with her cheery attitude and her easy conversation, he was uncertain yet.

"Your grace, Lord Devonshire," she said, walking towards Bartholomew Bass. Chuck held his breath, nervous of his father's attitude after his explosive reaction to his plan to marry Blair. "I am so happy to meet you."

Bartholomew stood. "Harold's daughter," he said huskily.

Blair nodded. "You knew my father, your grace?"

The duke nodded, much to Chuck's surprise. Lilly walked over to stand beside her husband, and placed a hand on his arm. "There was a time that I did," Bartholomew informed her. "He was a brilliant man."

"He was," she agreed, and for the first time, turned to look for Chuck. He walked over to stand beside her. "I miss him every day since he was taken from us."

Bartholomew looked down at the young woman in front of him, then at his son. Chuck's eyes drifted to where his father's hands fisted at his sides. The duke cleared his throat, and Lilly placed a hand on her husband's back. Chuck set his jaw, wondering if this was his father controlling anger. He pulled Blair with him, vowing to speak to his father afterwards.

"I would like you to meet a special young woman that I hope will become a very close friend," he told her. Chuck gestured towards Serena. "Lady Blair, meet my dearest sister, Miss Serena van der Woodsen."

Blair extended a hand, but Serena shook her head and embraced her. "Please. I insist you call me Serena, and that I call you Blair. We will be sisters," she told her.

"It would be a pleasure," Blair answered with a smile.

Serena and Blair settled into an easy conversation, one that flew by over his head as Serena asked about the latest fashion trends in Paris. Chuck turned to glance at where Lilly and his father conversed. He looked back at Serena and Blair, and they were laughing as if they were the oldest of friends. He walked towards the duke.

"You promised you would be gracious to my bride, father."

Lilly turned pleading eyes to her stepson. "Not now, Charles. Your father is distraught."

"I cannot bear to look at her," Bartholomew murmured to his wife.

Chuck looked at Bartholomew in surprise. "Do you dislike her so, father? She has been ill since morning, but is here out of respect to you. Will you not try?"

"Charles, you do not understand."

Chuck snarled, then gripped his father's arm. "Make me understand, father. What is so wrong with Blair?"

"If I tell you, then you are part of it. If you are so determined to keep your bride, son, you would not press this."

"Tell me," Chuck challenged.

There was a burst of soft laughter, and Bartholomew looked and saw Serena and Blair in one corner of the dining room. "Let's eat and get this over with."

Chuck tightened his grip on his father's arm. "Tell me," he repeated.

Bartholomew leaned and whispered into his ear. "I killed Harold Waldorf."

Chuck's gaze flew to Lilly, who shook her head sadly. The duchess kissed her stepson's cheek, then whispered. "Lady Blair brings back memories we would rather forget, Charles."

"You are involved in this?" he whispered back.

Lilly pulled away, then nodded towards the dinner table. She turned to the doorway, where one servant stood vigilant. "We will begin the meal," she pronounced. "Serena, Lady Blair, let us be seated."

Chuck turned to look at his bride, who smiled back at him. He pulled a chair out for her and helped her in. He then settled into a seat beside her. He felt her hand on his wrist, so he turned to her. "What is it, Blair?"

"Is everything well, my lord? You appear disturbed." Chuck breathed in, then learned towards her. He lifted his hand and kissed her knuckles. She grew more concerned. "Whatever it is, my lord, I am certain it will work itself to your satisfaction."

He nodded, then looked up as the servers brought in the trays of food. Before they lifted the covers, he turned to Blair and abruptly offered, "Come home with me."

She beamed at his words. "But I thought—"

"No," he interrupted. "I cannot leave you in this house. Come home with me, Blair. I will figure out how we can do this with the least scandal as possible. But I will not ask you to live here in this house."

She nodded. "I would love to stay in your home, my lord," she answered.

The covers were taken off the scrumptious feast of roasts and fish. The scent wafted from the plates. She swallowed heavily as she held back the bile that rose in her throat. Blair pushed at the table to get out of her chair, but the wood was so heavy she managed only to move a foot. She clutched at the arms of her chair, then heaved on the floor.

Serena gasped and stood. Chuck rose and moved to kneel by Blair's seat. He then threw a look of apology to the duchess. "If you will forgive us, your grace. I wish to take Lady Blair home to Piccadilly." He turned to the server and commanded, "Have my carriage brought around."

"Oh but I had thought she would be staying here," Serena protested.

"My lady is ill, and I would like to care for her myself," he said, grateful at least for the reason Blair's illness provided. And then, he resolved his problem of a chaperone. "But I would be honored if you will stay with us, Serena. We can invite your grandmother Cece to stay with us. I understand she wants to take an active role in your launch. She can take Lady Blair under her wing as well."

"My lord," the butler called. "Your carriage awaits."

He helped Blair out of her chair, holding her steady as they made their way out the door. She stumbled halfway through, and he murmured, "I knew we should not have come." He lifted her up into his arms, concerned at the illness that only seemed to get worse each time.

"This was a disaster," she whispered against the crook of his neck.

"Nonsense."

"I vomited on the duke's dining room floor," she lamented.

Chuck carried her back to the carriage and settled in with her. He drew her into his arms and rested his chin on her head. First, Nathaniel, and now this with his father. The secrets were piling up and suffocating him. God help him. He was not going to lose her over any of it.

tbc