AN: I am trying very hard to maintain the T rating. It is hard work and a lot of editing for a certain part.
Part 19
The contrasts between this wedding and their first were many and wildly apparent, but it would only be herself and Chuck who would notice them. Where there was a looming solemnity to their first, in the old Roman Catholic church where they vowed to stay together, St George's was full of guests in the list that the duchess had prepared. The people lent an atmosphere of a grand ballroom to the Anglican chapel. Once upon a time she took a marquis as her husband with a small declaration, clothed in a simple dress for a jaunt into the city. Today she would say the words she had prepared only two days before, when they were elated at the prospect of a child and a lifetime together, wearing spun silk and satin and lace.
Chuck waited for her at the altar. She walked slowly, alone, down the aisle. He watched her every step with such warmth in his eyes that she could almost lull herself into believing that he did not mean to discard her to the country the moment the marriage was sealed. Her breath hitched, and she paused halfway down the aisle. She noticed his stance straighten, and his eyes shutter. She continued her walk.
When she reached him, he held out his hand. Blair looked at the proffered open palm and swallowed. How was it that he could be so calm throughout, when he knew what would happen after all of it? She placed her hand in his. When he brought it up so he could brush a kiss on the pulsepoint of her wrist, she shuddered. He had done the very same thing in Santa Maria, and he did so again in front of everyone. Was this a recreation of that day? She wished it were, because that day spelled the start of her happiness, and if he had his way, today would spell the end of it.
"Qu'est-ce qui se passé?" she breathed, the same question she had once asked before.
"You know." He turned to look up at the priest.
She would not allow the future to ruin the present. She would only ever have one wedding day as grand as this. Even if they would not be together afterwards, Blair would relish this memory on those long, cold nights in Hartington.
"We will marry in London, in front of all the guests you want. It will be the biggest affair in Society."
And it was, Blair thought. It was a pity that now, with Hartington looming above their heads—with Nathaniel and Alicia, with Bartholomew and Harold as phantoms—she just ached to go back to Tuscany and live their lives the way they used to when everything was so simple.
And so the voice of the church droned on in front of them. When she was asked for her vows, she nodded and faced him. His eyes. They were murder. If he was so pained, why then did he insist on this foolish decision? She could live with his family, with the knowledge of another woman who had such hold on him that he could run to her. But she could live with him. Only him. She struggled not to scream at him that there was another choice—Tuscany. They could run away again, the way they did before. They were happy in their little hilltop villa. They could raise their son there and forget London and their families.
She repeated the vows of the church, one line after the other. And then, when it came her part to add, she said, in a voice that was close to a plea, "I would give it away if it means I can stay with you forever."
She saw him draw a deep breath. The cast shadows moved over his face. His voice was deep as he repeated the vows. "You fell into my life unexpectedly, my love. I promised you forever, and we will have it. You will be in my mind, in my heart, as long as I live."
She closed her eyes even as she heard the guests sigh. To the ladies of the ton, hardened by the rules of wealth and propriety, his vow likely seemed flawless and romantic. To Blair, it was, understood in context, a goodbye.
He took her in his arms for the kiss. Blair looked up at him with a brave smile. "Make it last, my lord," she asked. "It will keep me warm all these long nights to come."
Chuck lifted the veil and cupped her cheek so tenderly. His lips moved over her softly, coaxingly. Her lips parted under his and her eyes fluttered closed. She heard the furious whispers of their guests at the sight. Instead of pulling away for their benefit, Blair wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. If this was the last kiss, then she would make sure it was memory that would keep him up at night and drive him to the brink of his sanity.
When he pulled away, he saw her tearstained cheeks and pulled out a crisp white handkerchief from his pocket. Gently, he wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I now present to you the marquis and marchioness of Hartington, Lord Charles and Lady Blair Bass."
And as much as she adored him, she despised the name. It was the name of the man who murdered her father.
He was right. She would not survive London like this. She could not even bear to look at the duke who stood at the front pew.
He took her hand and placed it on his arm. "Smile, my love." They made their way hurriedly out of the church as they were pelted by rice. Laughing softly, exhilarated, he lifted her up onto the white carriage.
Blair sat on the cushioned seat and ran her hand over the painted surface. "You remembered," she said.
He nodded. "I think you will enjoy the small party that Lilly prepared for us," he assured her.
"No. Take me home, Chuck."
He regarded her quietly, and then nodded his head.
If it was the last afternoon, then he was the only one she would want to spend it with. He carried her in his arms from the carriage, up the flight of stairs and to his bedroom. For those hours, Blair willed herself to forget about tonight. He put her down and held her close so that they were standing pressed against each other. Blair reached up and cupped his face. She told him, "I can be so far away, but you will never escape me, Chuck."
He buried his face in her hair and breathed in. "I would never want to."
She captured his moist lips, then ran her hands down his belly and to the buttons of his trousers. "I want you to remember every single moment of tonight, Chuck." The pants fell down to pool at his feet. She turned around and then gathered her hair over one shoulder.
Deftly, Chuck undid each of the clasps that held the white gown together. With each length of skin, he paused and placed a brief moist kiss that made her shiver when afterwards, he blew soft air. He placed a kiss at her nape.
And then the silk and lace lay at their feet. He turned her around in his arms and cupped her breast. His hand moved down to cup her gently curving belly.
"Do you know if this will be fine for the child?" he said into her ear.
She pulled her against him and hastily pulled off his cravat, then pushed his coat off his shoulders. His lips curved at her eagerness, mindful of the first night they were together, and she had been hesitant and uncertain. She had changed so much since then.
And then they were pressed against the windows, buried in the thick curtains of the room. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his hips. She held him in her hand and Chuck gritted his teeth and she pulled him to her. He lifted her up and helped as she sank onto him.
"Blair," he choked out as he pressed her back against the window. She was in full abandon, and he was concerned that he would hurt her. She nodded at him and intertwined her fingers with his, then placed them over his heart. Chuck drove into her and moved in a quick, steady rhythm. He searched for release. He buried himself over and over again inside her. He raised their clasped hands and pressed them against the glass window.
"Remember this, Chuck," she whispered into his ear, then bit gently on the shell. His hand tightened on hers, and he clasped the other one as well. He made love to her in a way he had never done before, almost desperately, as if he were pressed for time. She moved with him, giving him as much as he gave until she reached the point when her vision blackened and she released violently against him.
She melted against him afterwards. Blair was suspended on air and she opened her eyes to find him lifting her to the bed. And then he spread her legs and she opened her arms to welcome him back into her body. Cushioned against the pillows, she urged him on and whispered words of love until he pumped himself into a climax, and he lay against her, spent.
His dark head rested against her breast. She placed a kiss in his hair. When he moved and pulled out of her, she felt empty. And then he lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms so that it was she that lay with her cheek pressed against his heart.
She sighed against his body. Chuck closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. She was right. Every breath, every scent, every sensation of today would be branded into his brain. There was no way he could force her to forget about her father's murder. If he could will himself into the belief that Nathaniel was not a threat, and he almost could, Bartholomew Bass still killed Harold Waldorf in a duel for his stepmother.
He felt the hot liquid gathering on his chest, and his arms tightened around her. It would be like this every day, her silent tears. They were enough to render him incapacitated.
She rose from the bed, and he felt the air cooling the skin she had been pressed up against. He watched her open his closet and take a white shirt, one of his, and pull it over her head. Outside, a steady patter of rain provided music to her quick and efficient movements. With one last look at him, she turned and walked out the door.
~o~o~o~o~o~
The thunder grew louder each time. Daniel looked out the carriage window in concern. The pelting rain was so steady and thick he could barely see the trees that he was certain were lining the side of the road. There was another clap of thunder, and Lady Blair gasped in her sleep.
He had not wanted this job. Being sent to Hartington, to be Lady Blair's only guardian, to handle more money than he had ever seen in his lifetime—it was an assignment for solicitors far more experienced than he was. Daniel was certain the duke had some names at the ready if this was what Lord Charles needed.
Yet instead of refusing the assignment, Daniel Humphrey had nodded, turned around, and told Serena that he was leaving. Without him in London, Serena would not be able to insist on eloping with him to disaster. He thought back to the conversation with Lord Charles.
"Surely, my lord, you have other solicitors who can assume this responsibility. This is far too much for a secretary."
Charles had sipped his scotch, then turned back to him. "You graduated law with honors, Mr Humphrey. You are more than qualified to handle Lady Blair's affairs."
Daniel's voice dropped. He could not dare question the decision that Charles had made of sending his new wife to Hartington. Instead, he clarified, "Are you sending me as your eyes and ears, to spy on her?"
"I am sending you because I trust that whatever happens, you will protect her in my absence," the marquis told him. "Those days in Paris, when I was near death… You and Blair worked tirelessly to keep me alive. A shared experience such as that—"
"It changes people," Daniel finished for him. He had said as much to Serena when he told her that he had found an admirable woman in Paris.
"Do this for her. You will find no more important experience to tag to your career than managing her finances singlehandedly. You have your choice of jobs afterwards. London households will compete for your services."
He had agreed despite his initial reluctance. It was a chance to tempting to pass. If and when he became the renowned solicitor that Lord Charles had predicted, he knew he could provide for Serena, and they would not live on scraps that her family handed out. Then she would not grow to hate him. And he would not despise her because he would not abandon him.
The older woman beside Lady Blair reached out with a soothing hand and placed it on her lady's arm. Daniel gave Dorota a tight smile. He was grateful that Lord Charles had sent Dorota with them. Halfway out of London, Lady Blair had been inconsolable, and if it had not been for her maid, Daniel feared she would still be in tears until now. When they stopped outside a small inn for nourishment, Lady Blair had refused to touch even water until Dorota had cajoled, and urged, and force fed her at times a hot broth and a piece of bread.
Daniel had agreed to attend to Lady Blair's monetary affairs, and they were astounding by themselves. He had learned about the deal between Lord Charles and Lady Blair, about her finances fully coming to her control upon her wedding. Daniel's mind reeled at the extent of the estate that had suddenly became his to manipulate.
Despite his considerable talents though, he would not attend to Lady Blair's emotional departure from London.
When Lady Blair woke, Dorota had immediately noticed the pallor of her skin, and rapped heavily on the roof of the carriage. Lady Blair had clutched her maid's sleeve as she stumbled out of the carriage. Even in the heavy rain, she would not allow herself to be sick in the carriage. She was drenched the moment she opened the door, but Lady Blair ran out to the side of the road and threw up the soup and bread that Dorota had struggled to get into her stomach.
He had thought it was thunder at first, and he waited to the sound to stop. Shadows converged around them. From out of the blur of the steady rain pour emerged eight black horses reined by dark-hooded men, four from the north and four the south road. The short maid had wordlessly moved in front of her lady. Daniel sucked in his breath.
"There is nothing to steal here, my good men," he called out, willing his voice to rise above the roaring weather.
"Daresay ya got more'n we'll ever need, Mistuh," answered one, with a thick Cockney accent.
"I tell you the truth," Daniel assured them. "Our party is small and we carry no gold or silver with us."
One of the horses trotted forward. Daniel stiffened as it passed by him. He willed himself not to cringe in anticipation of a violent action. The horse trotted past him and stopped just in front of Dorota.
The man, their leader it seemed, hopped off the black gelding and lifted a leather clad finger and placed it under Lady Blair's chin. "What is it we have here? Une salope," he hissed. "Allo, soeur."
Lady Blair jerked her face away, then spat on the man. "Brûlez dans l'enfer!"
The brigand drew his arm back and whipped forward so quickly that Daniel could barely react. Next he saw Lady Blair sprawled in the muddy road. The black-clad man knelt in front of Lady Blair, then grabbed her cheeks with one tight grip. Daniel sprinted, but before he could reach them, two of the men caught him by his arms.
"Il a été longtemps." Daniel struggled with his captors when the man's hand fell to her neck, slowly towards the scoop of her gown. Dorota caught the man's hand and pulled. And then Dorota fell onto the ground.
"Aaron, non. S'il vous plait," Lady Blair whispered. "Je suis enceinte."
Daniel stopped struggling as soon as he heard the words. It was no ordinary group of thieves. He should have known Lady Blair's family would be so thoughtful as to travel across the channel for her wedding. As soon as he stopped fighting the restraint, his guard's grip slackened.
"What? Did I not say a slut? Married for a day and already with child?"
Lady Blair had just given Aaron Rose enough ammunition that even a man as he could not trade for a little vengeance against his stepsister.
"A jackpot!" the Frenchman exclaimed. Aaron Rose stripped off his hood and threw his arms open. "Men! Nous sommes riches!" He dragged her up by the arm, then pushed her back towards the carriage. "We will take your carriage. Nothing but the best for my sister and my nephew."
Blair shuddered when Aaron placed a hand on her belly. Only Chuck had ever done that.
"I go," Dorota wearily declared.
"Non. Dorota, you can go," Blair insisted.
"I not leave you, Lady Blair."
Aaron grimaced. "Fine. Climb in." Blair knew it was done as any favor for her. Dorota would earn her keep, and would at least make sure Blair stayed alive. He turned to Daniel and warned, "Five hundred thousand pounds or a head." And then he smirked. "Each."
And then he gestured for his men to ride on. Aaron then pointed his gun at Daniel, then pulled the trigger. Pain exploded in Daniel's upper thigh. He struggled to pull himself up, and heard Blair's screams above the rain.
tbc