A/N: Thanks again for you guys' support. It makes me happen to know that people are entertained by my little foray into historically inaccurate fiction! :)
The Rose's Ruse
Chapter 5
She found him the next morning in the library. He'd taken his breakfast there and amongst the chaos, she could spot the croissant. She wanted to yell at him, command him to cease and desist, scream "what are you doing?" but she bit her tongue. Instead, in the most servile voice she could muster, inquired, "Is there anything I can help you with, milord?"
Books that had once been on her father's shelves were stacked, piles around the mahogany desk in the very room that Chuck Bass had first addressed her in. Her father had loved that room and now he was defiling it. "Ah well, not anymore than you already have last night, Blair."
She flushed to the roots of her hair. Had he no shame? She had spent the entire night trying to forget the fact that she had seen his bare flesh, touched the skin now hidden beneath thing layers of cotton and here he was, speaking openly of it as if he were discussing rain levels for the season. "The books sir." He gave her a quick glance and she corrected herself. "Milord, what do you intend to do with them?"
"It is not the servant's place to question the master, Blair." But she looked so cute in her little white dress. "But since you asked so nicely, I will overlook that slight misgiving. I am having my own books shipped over and I am afraid this is the only room fitting for them. I shall have to move these to the attic, or perhaps sell them. Most of them are hardly in decent shape - overused and bent. I have no use for-" He looked up to find her head down, lips trembling. In the day that he'd known her, that he'd played her little game, he had never seen her look so defeated. "Is there something wrong, Blair?"
She started at her name and shook her tears back. This was not the way to win wars, she had to remind herself. "No, milord. It's just, well. Lord Waldorf was so attached to his books and... well, I-Lady Jennifer would not be able to bear it if they were to be hidden in some dark corner to collect dust."
He stared as she spoke, her eyes never quite meeting his. He couldn't find the little girl who had been so playful as to renounce her title for a ruse, but rather a girl grieving for her beloved father. "You were close, then. You and your f... former lord."
"Like a father," she whispered. She looked lovely at that moment, the sunlight streaming through the windows, lighting her dark curls with a golden hue. Her skin glowed pearl and her plain dress reflected that light into his eyes. She appeared like an angel.
He coughed, catching himself in an awkwardly sentimental moment. This country air must be making him ill. "I'm sure if this matter concerns the lady as much as you predict, there is no reason why we could not have Daniel put in some bookshelves in her quarters."
Her eyes lit up and her smile was nearly blinding in the sun. "Really? Oh milord, that would make my lady oh so happy!"
"I do aim to please." He knew that she'd been sleeping in the servants' quarters as part of the guise (he had to hand it to her, the girl was dedicated to her craft), but she would eventually have to move back to the rooms that Jennifer currently occupied. The tower in which he first glimpsed at her.
"Her favorites are the blue leather bound volumes. Oh, and the Adventures of Sir William is a must. And-" She rattled off the names of books from a variety of genres, books that her father had read to her.
"I am certain that you will be able to choose the ones most suited for your lady. If you will excuse me, I do have to organize my office."
"Oh, of course! I apologize, milord, for taking up your time. I will bring in some tea for you right away. To have while you work, as Lord Waldorf always had. And perhaps some biscuits. What is your favorite?"
It was an odd question. No one had ever asked his personal preference in domestic matters, he had always just taken what he could. The happiness that radiated from her warmed him. It took him a moment to come up with the answer, all the while staring at her excited face. "Some Earl Grey would do wonders, Blair."
When she turned, her curls fanned out around her and he was tempted to reach out for them. He would have, in other circumstances, as he had never been shy about getting what he wanted. With this one, he wasn't sure. He told himself it was because of the fact that he actually had to live with this one, that he couldn't just kick her out of bed in the morning. There was only a tiny part of him that acknowledged the fact that perhaps, she was a beautiful venus flytrap waiting to devour him.
***
She decided that he couldn't be that bad. Well, that wasn't true - he was absolutely horrendous and she had seen way more of him than was appropriate, but at least there was a tiny flicker of hope that he may, indeed, be human. After all, he had treated her as one would treat a maid and that wasn't entirely his fault. She was just too clever in her disguise, she supposed. Jenny definitely didn't seem to mind him too much, although she did avoid him at all cost. Well, he was friends with Nathaniel, so he couldn't possibly be completely without a soul.
Dorota busied herself with the preparation of tea and biscuits, but when she heard footsteps, Blair rose from her position of leaning against the kitchen table and scrambled to arrange the treats onto a tray. She sighed in relief to see that it had only been Nathaniel, dressed in a gold-threaded vest over his tunic, his hands clasped behind his back. She gave a small curtsy, as did Dorota, and prayed that her hair hadn't completely matted into an uncontrollable mess from the steam in the room.
He bowed gentlemanly in return. "How are you today, Blair?"
"I am well, thank you. And yourself, Nathaniel?"
He marveled at the dimple right below her prominent cheekbones and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. She was lovely, indeed, especially the way she blushed deep like a rose and looked shyly down before sneaking her glance back up, eyes bright. "I was wondering if you could ride into town with me today, Blair. Show me around?"
She was just about to agree when Dorota nudged at her arm and gestured to the tray in her hands, which she placed back on the table before turning to the man beside her. "Oh, well. I was actually about to bring this up to Lord Chuck and help him select the books for Lady Jennifer's new bookcase."
"No matter, I shall wait. I will be in the stable getting the horses ready. Please come meet me when you are through with your work with Chuck."
She nodded quickly and watched him go. "Dorota," she said as she picked up the tray.
"Wait, Lady Blair-"
"Today is going to be a wonderful day."
"-The tea wasn't ready."
***
It was difficult to find anyone who had the leisure to read, let alone a woman, but the way she ran her fingers down the weathered spine of one of his favorite books did strange things to him. She never spoke a word, of course not, that would give away the little masquarade, but the little smile on her petal lips brought about an air of peace and reflection. One would never look at a text so reverently had she not dove into the spaces between the words and bathed in the depths of the author.
Of course, no woman was perfect. The tea she'd steeped was atrocious in the worse way and probably permanently turned him away from Earl Grey, but he wasn't particularly attached to the brew anyway. As he stacked his own books onto the shelf (he could hardly trust a plebian such as Humphrey to handle his genuine leather bound volumes), he watched her out of the corner of her eye. She was supposed to only select a few from the stack and allow the rest to collect dust in the attic, but she seemed unwilling to part with any of them, stating how 'distraught' Lady Jennifer would be. He supposed that just left more work for Humphrey.
"All right," she announced finally, smiling proudly at a stack of about four books amongst the dozens they'd pulled down. "These can be put away. I believe Lady Jennifer will be able to part with them." She shoved the tiny stack aside and turned her attention to the stacks of novels piled on the carpet. Her palms pressed together in a silent clap and her eyes shining with excitement.
"I'll have Humphrey get them to Lady Jennifer's rooms when he returns from his errands. He should know about what to do with the shelfing?"
"Oh yes. In fact, Daniel helped fa- Lord Waldorf build these shelves as well."
She rarely talked about her father at all and so at the sound of his name, Chuck turned his head towards her. He inquired with his nose scrunched at the very idea. "Lord Waldorf engaged in such activities as... carpentry?"
She smiled fondly, far away and unaware of his gaze. "He used to say that physical exercise was good for the soul. It beat all the manipulative backstabbing at the court and it helped him keep his figure. He was always a bit vain."
He oddly felt nostalgic in the way she spoke, yet he knew that it could not be from his own memory. He could never speak about his father so fondly as she had with hers. It would help if they actually engaged in a conversation that didn't boil down to him being a disappointment. "He sounds like a very interesting man."
"It is difficult to find a decent man who disliked him. He was the kindest gentleman I've ever known." They fell into a comfortable silence as she organized the books and he finished putting the rest of his away. He was exhausted when the shelf was stacked completely. "May I be dismissed now, Lord Chuck?"
He had not realized that they'd spent a good portion of the past two hours together - time had never gone by so quickly in his idle life before. The dull company he kept back in London, Nathaniel excluded, made life feel never ending. "Of course," he replied reluctantly. "I'm sure Dorota will be requiring your assistance. Tell her that I am responsible for your absence. I shall have Humphrey begin on the construction of the shelf at once." She nodded and curtsied quickly before hurrying out of the room and he wondered where she was in such a rush to get to.
He would, of course, turn to the window in a few moments and spy the brunette riding down the stone road into town, his friend's brilliant smile blinding in the sun and her adoring eyes fixed on his golden hair. The scowl on his face was unfamiliar to him. The cause, even more so. Jealousy was a complete stranger to Chuck Bass.