Part 15
It had been a feat to obtain the Chuck's agreement to Serena and Blair's plan to tour the Bazaar. It had only been the night before that Blair had spilled her stomach contents onto the duke's lavish flooring, and Chuck had stayed up through the night as she slept fitfully and rose to throw up twice over the period of nine hours. Dorota had insisted on staying with her lady. When Chuck had requested for a doctor, the maid had informed him that she could take over the care. She had seen Blair through various illnesses since she was a child, and said it with such authority that the marquis had to choice but to fold.
If she remained sick by morning, he could call as many doctors as he wanted. This, at least, Dorota permitted.
When the sun rose to shine, Blair was up and about, as if the illness was a passing malady that had completely vanished. Serena van der Woodsen arrived at sunrise with her grandmother, and promptly informed her stepbrother that she and his bride would be going on an outing to the Pantheon Bazaar. Much to Chuck's dismay, Serena's grandmother and their new chaperone decided that an outing would be good for the two, and Cece would spend the day with the maids arranging Serena's new bedroom.
And so the two young women now strolled along the bazaar, with parasols in hands, looking through trinkets they would not bring home. As they passed by an apparel shop, Blair caught Serena's arm to stop her.
"What is it?" Serena inquired of her newfound friend.
Blair pulled her along to a ribbon shop. "I used to have many ribbons of all colors. And I would tie them around my head like so." Blair took a length of ribbon and placed it neatly on, with the color peeking from underneath some curls.
"Well what happened to them?"
"I left them in Paris," Blair shared. "Your brother and I did not have much time to pack."
Serena had been curious about the story since Daniel told her about Chuck's decision to escape to Italy. Having found a good time to ask, Serena smiled. "I have not been told of the story yet. How did you and Chuck fall in love and become engaged?"
Blair gave a lopsided smile. "Your brother came to Paris looking for a bride. Love had nothing to do with it. My father's pocketbook is likely to thank for this all."
"What?" Serena laughed. "B, it is so apparent that he is head over heels for you."
"It was not until Italy that he grew so fond of me."
The blonde's smile vanished. It was that when she realized that Blair had no inkling of the real story. She ached to tell her, because it would give the other young woman more appreciation of how much her brother valued her, because it was no light matter to betray a friend. Serena shook her head, and thought it best the admission come from Chuck himself. "Perhaps we can get a white one?" she suggested lightly. "It would contrast well with your dark hair."
Blair's eyes sparkled at the memory. "I have a white one here in England, and I do not wish to replace it. I gave it to your brother the very first night we met." And then, much to Serena's delight, she narrated the eventful encounter outside La Fleur Noire.
"It's fate!" she exclaimed with a giggle.
Blair purchased a half dozen colors of ribbons for her new wardrobe and held them up. "Are they not beautiful? I will have Dorota embroider my initials on them tonight."
Serena touched the fabric and admired the smooth texture. And then her vision shifted to the bookstore on the opposite side of the street. She gasped, then turned to Blair. Before she could speak, Blair took her hand.
"Serena, come. I see Mr Humphrey in that store. Let us go say hello. I have not since him since we arrived."
They went into the store where Daniel was inspecting a hardbound book. Serena picked up her pace, leaving Blair at her wake. She pushed the door open and sent the bell jingling to announce the new customer. At the noise, Daniel looked up and saw her. He stopped still, as if searching for words to say. Instead, he put down the book and picked up another one and held it up to her. "Look. Harris' List of Covent Garden Ladies," he said humorously. Serena's eyebrow arched at the sight of her lover displaying the infamous book of mistresses and prostitutes in London. "You brother has probably gone through this entire list by the time he turned eighteen."
Behind Serena, Blair gasped. Daniel's gaze shifted to Blair. He flushed. "My lady, it was a jest," he stammered.
"Mr Humphrey, it was not a clever one!" she admonished.
Serena turned around and took Blair's hand. "B, a favor if you will."
"What is it?"
"I need to leave you for a moment to speak with Mr Humphrey." Blair narrowed her eyes. "I have long waited to see him again," Serena confessed. "There is a milliner next door. Shall I meet with you there in a half hour?"
Blair searched Serena's eyes, then turned to look at Daniel. She saw how Daniel was watching Serena and slowly nodded. "Of course."
Blair left the bookstore and walked towards the millinery next door, as suggested by Serena. She looked through the display hats one by one. Within moments she found herself leaving the shop. Chuck's welcome home to London gift of a wardrobe covered most everything she needed, and so she knew she had all the styles in her closet. Instead of going to the shoe shop next door, Blair found herself gravitating towards the flower stand.
The shop keeper was jolly. Upon seeing the lady, the man greeted her with such vivre that Blair could not help but smile.
"A bouquet, my good man."
She knew that voice. A man behind her took the bouquet from the shop keeper and handed a coin. And then she found the bouquet thrust towards her. Blair turned her head and looked up, then found herself staring into the face of the one man she knew was here, but thought she would never see.
"Nathaniel?" she whispered.
He was as handsome as the day they were engaged. Nathaniel gave her a brilliant smile and handed the flowers to her. She took the flowers wordlessly. "I figure I owe you at least a bouquet, my lady comtesse."
"Wha—How? Lord Nathaniel, what—"
"You and I have much to discuss, Lady Blair," he told her.
Slowly, she nodded. "Perhaps you can begin with why you had abandoned me to my own devices when I pleaded with you to save me."
"Perhaps I can begin by assuring you that I did not." He offered his arm for her to take. "Invite you to talk with me and guarantee you that anything I tell you now, Lord Charles will testify to its truth."
Blair looked down at the proffered arm, and she remembered all the nights she dreamed that Nathaniel would come and offer to take her in that exact way. But Nathaniel never came, and in his place was Chuck. And Chuck had done nothing but take good, loving care of her. "No," she said. "Lord Charles will be anxious if I leave with you."
"Lady Blair, Lord Charles knows me." Nathaniel slipped his hand into his pocket and drew out the Vanderbilt ring, the engagement diamond she had worn for three years. "How else could he give me this?"
Her heart sank at the sight. "I must have hurt you terribly, my lord. But you must understand my place. I could not wait around for you to decide if you wished to rescue me."
Nathaniel reached for her hand and placed it on his arm. "Walk with me, Lady Blair. There is something I wish for you to understand. I have not, for a single moment, abandoned you."
~o~o~o~o~o~
He could not account for the exact temper he was in. It was a perfect mix of fury and panic. It began the moment the open carriage rolled to their street. He had been waiting at the balcony for their arrival. Even with the surprising recovery Blair had made by morning, he was still more concerned about how she would be feeling by the time their excursion was over. And so he had waited until the time they had agreed to come home.
But noon went by and neither Serena nor Blair, nor the carriage came. By an hour past the schedule, the open carriage turned the corner, bearing Serena's blonde head and tense form and Daniel's surprising presence. He knew it was worry exploding within him because he could barely hear the clatter of the hooves on the cobbled streets. Instead, all he could hear was his thunderous heartbeat.
He ran all the way down the stairs and flung the door open before the butler could. And so he was in the front seat to a show of his stepsister wringing her hands with worry, and Daniel Humphrey patting her back.
"Serena!" he called out sharply.
Serena's guilty and surprised look said it all. "My lord."
"Where is Lady Blair?" Chuck asked quietly as the two made their way into the house.
Serena drew a deep breath. "I was hoping she would be here."
"How can she be here when you were the one who insisted on taking her out shopping?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to glare at the butler. "Have them take my horse out front." The butler nodded and walked away with all dignity. Chuck turned back to Serena, then Daniel. "You know about any of this, Humphrey?"
Daniel nodded, his arms crossed behind him as he did so. He placed a hand on the small of Serena's back. "We had encountered each other by chance at the bazaar, my lord. My deepest regrets. We lost track of Lady Blair."
Chuck snarled. "Lady Blair would not traipse about in unknown territory and away from you."
"I asked her to leave, Chuck!" Serena cried. And then her voice fell to a whisper. "I wished to speak with Daniel in private."
"And so you sent my bride, who has only been in London for two days, away to wander by herself through Tyburn and Marlborough?" Chuck demanded.
Serena cringed, and at that Daniel stepped forward. "My lord, your sister suffers enough."
"And so she should," Chuck said in a clipped voice. He saw his horse brought around, and slammed the door closed behind him as he exited the house.
It was as if fire was burning under the horse's hooves as he rode hard and fast to the Pantheon. Chuck checked through each shop to ask about Blair. The lace shop owner remembered Blair for buying ribbons, and so he knew he was right where Blair and Serena had walked. The man at the flower stand hailed him upon hearing the description he provided.
"Your lady left with a fine-looking gentleman, she did," the florist informed him. "Lord Nathaniel Archibald. He gave me a pretty guinea for one little bouquet. Of course I remember."
At that, Chuck strode back to his horse, cursing under his breath. Nathaniel's chance encounter with Lady Blair. What a great, fantastic, stupendous coincidence.
He believed in coincidences the same way he believed he could step aside if she so chooses to honor her engagement to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel was not in the Archibald townhouse. That much he was told by the butler, and when the old man asked if he wished to speak with Lady Anne or the admiral, Chuck stepped away from the door. He made his way back to his home, wishing for all the world that Nathaniel had done the honorable thing, and not told her anything.
Of their fast and tight friendship, Chuck was cognizant of only one thing. They competed. Even when there was no contest, they competed just because it made their lives interesting. If Nathaniel saw it fit to think of Blair as competition, Chuck was not going to surrender. Nathaniel thought this was a game, and no matter Chuck's insistence that it was not, this ploy just served to tell Chuck that Nathaniel was still moving around the chess pieces.
"Is Lady Blair home?" he asked the butler as he stepped in, exhausted and dusty from the ride.
"A full two hours ago, my lord," answered the old man. "Lord Nathaniel took her home."
As expected, Chuck thought. He dragged his feet up the steps and stopped at the top step, upon the sight of Dorota standing outside Blair's door, glaring at him. "She not come out," Dorota said accusingly. "She not open to me, she not open to you."
Chuck gritted his teeth and tried the door. It was, as Dorota eloquently stated, not open. "Get the keys," he told the maid.
The maid nodded and left.
Chuck knocked. "Blair, my love, open the door." One of the doors from the family wing opened, and Chuck saw Cece peek outside at him. He turned his back on her. "Useless chaperone," he muttered. She served her purpose. With her presence in the house, it was acceptable to have both Blair and Serena in his home. But that was where it ended. If it had been any other situation he would be delighted that Cece seemed to be inept at being a chaperone. For today, he still firmly believed that Cece should have supported his case on not allowing the two to leave for the bazaar. He rapped on the door again. "Blair, I need to talk to you. Let me in."
There was no response from the other side, and the silence made him even more nervous. Chuck turned and saw Dorota walking towards him with the key. He inserted the key into the knob and turned. The door swung open.
His heart ached at the sight. Blair sat in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, tears trailing down her cheeks. He said, "Dorota, leave us."
When they were alone, he walked forward and knelt next to her. She continued brushing her hair. Chuck reached up and took the brush from her. "Your hands are so cold," he told her softly. She sniffled. He rubbed his hands over them.
"I discovered something today," she said raggedly.
"I know."
"You do not love me," Blair continued, as if he did not speak.
Of all the things she could have said, this was unexpected and took him aback. "I don't?" he repeated, dumbstruck.
"You do not trust me."
He shook his head. He pulled her cold hands to warm against his chest. "I trust no one else more. I love no one else," he told her.
"Then why did you not tell me?" she whispered brokenly through her tears.
And he took a breath deep enough to quell his fear of confessing such a private emotion. "I was afraid that if I did, I would lose you."
She shook her head, disregarding the reason that he gave. "I understand that you could fear that from the start. But after Tuscany, Chuck?" she breathed out. "After Santa Maria? I gave everything to you and still you could not trust me."
He kissed her palms. Chuck searched his brain for any words that could make her understand his fear. He could find none, and he realized he did not know why he could not tell her after Santa Maria del Fiore. She was right. It could have mattered in Paris. It certainly would not have changed a thing after their small, solemn version of a wedding. He had been scared of the secret so much that he thought he could keep it even when it was impossible—in London.
His hand slipped into his pocket and drew out the one keepsake he had of a genuinely perfect Parisian moment. Chuck looked down at the folded satin ribbon and raised it to his nose and took a breath.
"Bring the carriage around," he informed the butler. "And fetch me a bottle of scotch. I am going for ride." Inside the carriage, he lifted the bottle to his lips and drank as if it were water.
That was the first thing he would regret of that night. His head regretted that consumption miserably, after all. He opened his eyes and felt as if the sun was scorching them off their sockets. His head throbbed at every single noise.
"Aaaaargh," he groaned.
The dainty footsteps coming towards the bed murdered him with each clatter of a heel. At least he was in a comfortable bed. The smell of breakfast assailed his nostrils and made bile rise in his throat. Chuck opened his eyes finally and sat up.
"Easy, my lord. You know what quick movements can do after you consume too much of your favorite poison," came the lilting, teasing voice.
His eyes adjusted to the light. His vision focused on the feminine form at the doorway that walked towards him with a tray of food. "Alicia," he realized.
tbc