AN: Wholeheartedly I am dedicating this story to those of you who are always ready and eager to read a Chair historical romance. It was a farfetched idea at the start, but your kind and encouraging words were fantastic motivation.
Part 16
"Look—" he hesitated.
The blonde gave him a sweet smile. "It is perfectly fine, my lord. This, nursing you back to health like this, is part of my role. Men have come to us when they are distressed, or feel that they cannot talk to their wives." She smiled. "Or I assumed this was about your young bride, given the rather feminine accessory you had been clutching the entire night."
"The entire night?" he repeated tightly.
Alicia nodded. "You were drunk and rolling on my settee. I barely managed to get you into bed."
Chuck sighed in relief. He stumbled out of the bed and waved the food away. Chuck found himself still in his britches and his rumpled shirt. He strode towards the dainty vanity and combed his fingers through his hair. Alicia placed the tray down and walked over to him. "What are you doing?"
"Fixing myself. I look like hell."
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I can help you, Charles."
He flinched at her touch. At her look of concern, he sighed, then settled onto the stool. "We need to speak, Alicia."
To his surprise, she gave a sad smile and nodded. "I had hoped it would not come to this."
"What do you mean?"
"When I heard about your taking a bride, I had fervently hoped that nothing would change," she shared. "And almost always, when my patron takes a wife, nothing does." Alicia touched her fingers to his cheek. "But I know my lord Charles, and I knew this would happen, especially with the gossip that has reached me. You truly betrayed Nathaniel for her?"
Chuck set his jaw. "Nathaniel figured nowhere in the equation when I chose to spend my life with my lady."
"Ah," Alicia laughed. "He was merely an obstacle you overcame?"
"Alicia," he started hoarsely. "I know I have thrown your plans. I should have given you time to find another patron. I can help you—"
She shook her head. "I have had offers, Charles. Do not doubt that I will be able to carry forward without you."
"Offers?"
"Spectacular ones," she assured him. "But I did not wish to leave you." Alicia bent to place a kiss on his slack lips. "Now I must set you free."
"You have been a perfect mistress, Alicia," he said in goodbye.
She nodded. "I know. If you had not met her, if you had married any of women who have been parading in front of you all this while, you would have kept me," Alicia said with the confidence that only a woman of her career could muster. "I am happier that this is the reason we part, Charles. I can only imagine the lady she is to have stolen you from me."
"That she is," he admitted.
Charles left her standing alone in her luxurious apartment. She sighed and made her way to the bed to fix the blankets he had disturbed. The white satin ribbon lay forgotten on the pillow. Alicia reached up for it and held it up. At the end of the cloth, embroidered in the exact same thread as the rest of the ribbon, which served to make the letter seem embossed rather than stitched, was a B. She placed the ribbon in her small clutch to return on another day.
It was their third day in London, marked especially as he counted the days to their impending wedding. Chuck made his way into his home with guilt and dread heavy in his heart. Merely a few days before he took Lady Blair to wife, and here he walked in shame come morning after a night in his mistress' house. Forever cautious and now, with a bride, even more so, Chuck made his way out of Alicia's place and straight to his carriage. He was grateful that the morning was too early for many of the ton to be about.
When he arrived at his townhouse, he was surprised to see Nathaniel in his drawing room. Angered at the presence, Chuck pushed the door open and stalked towards him. He grasped the cravat tucked into his shirt and lifted Nathaniel. "What did you do?" he demanded.
"He merely told the truth, Lord Hartington," came the feminine voice.
He whirled around and the sight took his breath away. Surrounded by her seamstresses and a very pleased Dorota, Lady Blair stood on a platform at the center of the room. His gaze climbed and his lips parted at the image she presented. She looked at him through a long white beaded veil and he realized at once that he was looking at his bride fitting her wedding dress. The dress was stunning and simple, a white net silk and satin concoction with brussel lace trimming at the décolletage. The hem was edged with silver thread, and the same thread ran an embroidered through the entire skirt. The sleeves were puffed and short, and bared her arms until elbow cut long silk gloves hid them.
"Blair," he breathed.
She turned her back to him and quietly requested the seamstress to measure faster. He felt a pang at the snub, but at the same time wide relief that despite the fact that she was unwilling to converse civilly, and even called him Lord Hartington—which now he realized she only used to put him in his place—she was yet unswayed from their decision to wed.
"I assure you, Chuck, that I said nothing to Lady Blair but the truth," Nathaniel told him. "I told her what you could not tell her, and I believe you are better off for it."
Chuck pulled Nathaniel away from the drawing room. "What did you say?"
"I know you care for her. I have seen it." Nathaniel shook his head. "But you will ruin it all by the way you have been hiding me. Did you think you could hide it forever?" he demanded. "I am your sister's fiancé and your best friend."
Chuck hung his head, then looked at his friend. "You have obviously never been afraid of the decision of a woman." And then he laughed softly, because before Blair, he had never been afraid either.
"Of course I have," Nathaniel admitted. "The day I found out about the collapse of my family estate, I was so afraid. I knew what Lady Rose would do. And Lady Blair's letters throughout the years have convinced me that she needed to be saved."
The marquis lifted his head and met Nathaniel's eyes. For the first time since he returned, Chuck extended his hand to Nathaniel. "You would not know it for my stubborn arrogance, but I am sorry, Nathaniel. What I have done is selfish. I did betray your trust," he confessed. "I wished I can be sorrier, but I cannot. I cannot regret the events that transpired to bring us to this pass."
Slowly, Nathaniel nodded. "That brought Lady Blair to your home instead of mine?" Chuck broke into a small smile. "That the wedding at Hanover in three days is yours and not mine?"
"I cannot regret that, Nathaniel, though I hold you close to my heart."
Nathaniel smiled, then took Chuck's hand and pulled him for a quick and rough embrace. "Twas fate, I should say. I have spoken to her for this second day and all throughout I see her brighter, more alive, than I remember her ever to be."
The marquis glanced towards the drawing room where Blair was assisted down from the platform. Dorota followed behind her lady with her daydress in tow. "Even with her anger towards me, you find her happier?" he inquired, a small smile touching his lips.
Nathaniel patted his friend on the shoulder. "She has asked me to take her and Serena out on a walk at the park." Chuck growled, then turned a furious gaze at Nathaniel. "It would do much to quell rumors, Bass," he pointed out.
"The last time she went for an outing with my dear stepsister, she turned out missing, briefly abducted by her former fiancé and still angry towards me," Chuck added.
Serena came running down the steps with a smile on her face. Although still angry with her, Chuck's gaze flitted to the steps towards Serena's room. He knew just what gave that skip on her step. He was going to have a talk with Daniel Humphrey and Serena this afternoon, and set down strict rules against turning his new home into a den of fornication. Serena's smile vanished when she saw her stepbrother. "My lord," she greeted quietly.
Chuck nodded curtly, unwilling to show her how quickly she was forgiven lest she do something thoughtless again in the name of love. Certainly he was not one to judge, as he did something thoughtless and hurt Nathaniel in the process. However, it was unacceptable that Serena had endangered Blair.
Blair appeared in a rose-colored day dress and nodded at Chuck. Coldly, but out of courtesy to her lord, she asked, "It is a beautiful day for a walk, Lord Hartington. Will you be so kind as to allow your sister and me to venture out with our escort?"
"Well," Chuck drawled, then offered his arm, "I will do better than allow you. Serena can walk with her fiancé, and you can walk with yours, my lady."
Blair narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. She turned to look at Serena, as if prompting her to do or say anything that could change Chuck's mind. Serena shook her head, because she was still in her brother's bad side. Blair almost rolled her eyes, but prevented it as it was such an unseemly and juvenile action. Instead, she gave Chuck a bright smile and placed her hand on his sleeve. And then she squeezed. Chuck frowned at her. She smiled. "Did I clutch you too tightly, Lord Hartington?" she asked sweetly.
"No, Lady Blair. Your touch is heaven," was his swift answer. He learned she did not appreciate his light teasing by the way she squeezed even tighter, with her fingernails digging deep into his skin. He yelped, then decided to hold her hand with his other one while it rested on his arm.
He led her towards the door, with Serena and Nathaniel following closely behind. By the odd noise they made, he suspected they were muffling laughter.
"You looked beautiful in your wedding gown," he whispered into her ear as they crossed the street and made their way to the park.
She shivered at the proximity and glared up at him for doing so while they were in public and in the middle of what she assumed to be a spat. However, when she saw him looking down at her fondly, as if recollecting the image of her in her dream dress and intricate lace veil, her defenses melted. She heard Nathaniel laugh at a comment that Serena made, and she remembered his deception. Blair turned to face ahead.
Nathaniel and Serena fell into step beside them. Serena asked her new friend about the fashion plate that Blair chose for her wedding gown. Once Blair informed Serena that there was no fashion plate, and that she had detailed the specifics of the style herself, Serena removed her hand from Nathaniel's arm and clasped Blair's free one. Blair looked up at Chuck with an eyebrow arched. At that, Chuck released his hold on her other hand.
The two ladies walked together speaking about the choices that Blair had made to come up with her dream dress. Nathaniel watched with a smile, and Chuck's lips curved into a smirk. "I should give my sister an hour more. Maybe by then she could melt my comtesse's frosty heart," Chuck suggested.
"I have no doubt Serena can turn Lady Blair's attention enough that she will forget why she was angry." And then he shook his head. "I have never seen Lady Blair angry. She is a spitfire. Did she hurt you?" Chuck laughed, then rubbed his arm at the memory. "Are you enjoying this?" Nathaniel exclaimed in disbelief.
Chuck nodded. "I had suspected there was something like this in her." He watched Serena and Blair as they walked and chatter away. "The first night I saw her she was dancing in La Fleur to learn about the real world," he narrated. "And out of the blue, she kissed me." He touched his lips. "I miss that Blair. She vanished too quickly with the problems we had with her mother and her stepbrother."
"You are delighted that she is disrespecting you," Nathaniel realized.
"Better she is angry than holed up in her room crying," Chuck said softly. "She learned that I had deceived her, and did not come to Paris to marry her. She learned that I had betrayed you. In all, I think she took it rather well."
"Because you betrayed me," Nathaniel pointed out. "Betray her and suffer the consequences. It would be more dire than a little pain on your arm, I gather."
Chuck grinned. "Are you afraid of Lady Blair, your once innocent little girl?"
"I fear having been so close to you, you have spoilt her and gave her claws."
He glanced at the nonexistent marks on his arm. "Sharp little claws at that. Beware."
He and Nathaniel continued their conversation until they saw a black polished phaeton stop at the park. A redhead stepped off and met a familiar slender blonde.
"I adore her hat," Blair said.
Serena pulled her friend along with her. "Well then let us ask where she bought it."
Chuck turned to Nathaniel and cursed. "Katerina and Alicia," he said in recognition.
Nathaniel ran forward and grabbed Serena's arm. Blair stood looking at Nathaniel in surprise. Chuck stopped beside her. "I think you have a hat just like that in one of the boxes in your closet," he managed.
"I do not," she stated simply, like a child.
"Then we will get you one," Chuck said with forced cheer. "You do not need to know where they bought the hat. How many styles can there be? We can find it anywhere."
Serena laughed at the absurdity of her brother's statement. And then she remembered that she was still at fault, so she stopped. "There are a million styles, Chuck."
"Look, you two should not be talking to them." Nathaniel's voice dropped. "They have rather sullied reputations."
"Oh," Blair gasped. She remembered the book that Daniel Humphrey had held out to them in the bookstore the day before. "You mean they are in Harris' List?"
Chuck did not know why, but the words from Blair's mouth seemed offensive to his senses. "What do you know of Harris' List?" He needed to know who would soil his innocent bride's ears to tell her any such thing. He looked up at Nathaniel, who he instantly suspected.
"Daniel Humphrey showed us a book," she whispered back.
"He did, did he not?" Chuck's eyes narrowed and he glared at Serena. "Yes, they are probably listed there. So come along," he told her. "Walk the other way."
"The man who dropped off the red-haired woman seemed quite well off," Blair observed. "He had an impressive phaeton."
"Why are we still talking about this?" Chuck said out loud, finding it unsettling to have his bride continuing a conversation about mistresses and prostitutes, which was all that Harris' List contained.
Nathaniel chuckled. For the first time, Chuck sounded like a prude. "Lady Blair, mistresses may have very powerful patrons."
She shrugged. "Do you have one?" she asked Nathaniel.
Chuck froze. "This is not appropriate conversation."
Nathaniel shook his head, and Chuck wanted to gut him. Chuck drew cold when Blair turned to look at him. He sighed in relief when she turned away without asking.
The day was starting to get hot, and the sun was almost directly above their heads. Quick to grab the moment, Nathaniel turned to Serena. "The Danvers' ball is tomorrow, Serena. I hope you have a gown selected."
Serena sighed, because she had planned to spend the night reading the novel that Daniel had given to her. It was, however, still expected that she come. She wondered if Nathaniel had a romance brewing on the side as well. It was not often that men of Nathaniel's station and breeding not have a mistress in Hanover. Everyone hushed about it, but everyone knew as well. She regarded Nathaniel's profile, and thought about how he seemed rather satisfied with himself. "I do," she told him, although there had been no chance to choose one.
Serena smiled at Nathaniel and then took Blair's hand. She felt Blair extricate her hand. She turned to her friend with a frown. "What is it, B?"
"Where is my lord?" Blair whispered.
Serena placed an arm around Blair's shoulders. After having ignored the marquis, or having snapped at him for most of the excursion, having Blair ask for her stepbrother now sent warning signals in her brain. "Chuck!" Serena called out, for the first time that day using the name she used fondly for her brother.
Chuck turned and immediately saw Serena's concern and Blair's complexion turning white as sheet. He strode towards them, but before he reached her Blair had fallen onto her hands and knees, heaving dryly onto the grass. He turned to Nathaniel, who nodded and ran towards the street to hail a hackney.
He helped Blair to her feet. "What were we thinking not taking a carriage?" he muttered. She sniffled, then buried her face in his sleeve. Chuck's heart clenched. If during their spat, she would seem so helpless against him, it stood to reason that she must feel something absolutely foul. His voice softened. "I will take care of you, my love," he whispered.
She nodded, then raised moist eyes to him. "I think I should see the doctor now," she gave in, despite her earlier insistence that she did not need one.
In full view of anyone in the streets or the park, Chuck lifted his fiancé in his arms and strode towards where Nathaniel waited with a hackney.
"Put me down, my lord. I will walk."
"Chuck, everyone can see. It is unseemly," Serena added.
Chuck brought her up higher against him and continued walking. "Let them talk until their tongues fall off. My lady is ill and she will not suffer through the distance to the street just to avoid a blind item in the Gazette."
~o~o~o~o~o~
It was a tense wait, and he would have preferred to stay in her room as the doctor checked her. When she requested that he remain outside, he had been hurt and wondered if this was another form of punishment she had for him for lying about Nathaniel.
But it was shallow, and he doubted Blair could even think of ways to punish him when she was so sick.
The doctor opened the door and allowed him inside, and Chuck strode towards where Blair sat on the bed. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. Chuck turned to the doctor. "What is it? Why is she ill?"
The kindly old man nodded towards Blair. "I believe the lady wishes to give you the news herself."
Chuck turned to his fiancé and held his breath. And it was then that she gave him her brilliant smile. She cupped his face, then pulled him down for a kiss. And then, she breathed against his lips, "We are with child, my lord."
The worry vanished from his eyes, and it was as if a wave of light washed over him. He cleared his throat and smiled. "My God," he murmured. "A child?" he said in wonder. His eyes fell to her belly covered by the blanket. He placed a tentative hand on it and drew a deep breath.
He looked up at her and saw her smiling down at him with tears in her eyes. Chuck leaned down and placed a kiss right above her womb, where even then their child slept. Her fingers buried in his hair. "Have I made you happy, my love?" she asked softly. "Tell me I have and all the sickness will be worth it."
He moved over to sit by her, and then kissed her lips. "All the happiest moments of my life you have given me, Blair. I do not remember any time before you."
He heard the movement from the other side of the bed. Chuck looked over at the doctor, then stood. He squeezed her hand and released it, then walked towards the doctor. "I trust in your discretion, sir," he said quietly.
"Of course, my lord," the older man stammered, sensing the chill in his voice that had not been present as he celebrated with the lady.
"If this news reaches anyone outside this room, I will make your life a living hell. You will take your practice outside of London," he warned. "Outside England. You will—"
"Chuck," Blair said softly. "Come, my love. Leave the poor man alone."
Chuck glanced back at his beautiful bride. His vision cleared at her smile. He turned back to the doctor and said, "We will require your services each week until the child is born." The doctor nodded briskly. "Thank you. You may go."
The doctor left, and Chuck returned to his place beside Blair. She lay back and invited him to do so as well. As they lay fully clothed beside each other, he placed his hand on her belly and thought he felt the tiniest fluttering wings of a butterfly against his palm.
To her pleasant surprise, his low voice soothing and warm to her ear, when he started singing an old folk song from the sixteenth century. "Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine."
"Chuck," she exclaimed. "That's beautiful. I did not know you sang," Blair told him as she turned to him.
"The thirst that from the soul doth rise, doth ask a drink divine but might I Jove's nectar cup, I would not change for thine." He smiled down at her and placed a kiss on her lips. "I sent thee late a rosy wreath, not so much honoring thee as giving it a hope that there it could not withered be."
"If only we had my father's piano," she said, "I will play it for you, and you can sing to me."
"But thou thereon didst only breathe and sent it back to me. Since when it grows, and smells, I swear—"
Blair picked up the old familiar song of love, "Not of itself, but thee." She smiled. "You are a romantic, my lord."
"For you, my love, I am," he promised. He entwined their fingers and saw the glittering diamond she had so loved in Florence. "Have you ever taken off your ring?"
"Never once."
"Well, if you had, you would have thought me romantic from the first," he pointed out.
Blair smiled uncertainly, then disengaged her hand from his. She pulled the ring off her finger, then squinted to read the engraved words she did not know it bore. "B, This is a promise. C," she read softly.
tbc