The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 9

The adventure wasn't what Chuck had in mind. Sure, once, when he was still a free man, he had stopped in small villages on his journeys across the seas and thought he had met several Blair Waldorfs in his lifetime. A trinket here, a compliment there and the maid would blush straight into his bed. So he laid it all out. He sung poetry of the countryside view and complimented the god-forsaken simplicity of the townsfolk. He complimented the way her hair lit up in the sun and her expertise in riding.

It turned out that there was only one Blair Waldorf in the entire world, and he was not prepared for the likes of her.

The girl was more temperamental than the ocean herself. One moment she would stare blankly at the wide expanse of grass and trees in which Chuck found hardly anything worth staring at. The next, she snapped at his attempts at poetry and found his compliments condescending. He listened tentatively to her descriptions of various shops and people almost in fear of once again being reprimanded. Nothing he said was right. She seemed to love these people each individually, but she bore a deep loathing of their provincial existence. But just when he thought he had her all figured out, she would reach over and fix his collar and grant him a smile.

Upon their return that evening, Chuck had given up all attempts of calculating his words to elicit a desired response from her. Prediction in such a girl seemed near impossible. Instead of flattery then, he focused on other... assets of a woman that he found captivating and even he must admit, the shrew was a fine specimen.

The fierce sun had forced the girl to pile her hair into a knot and exposed the span of smooth white skin of her neck. The way it curved down her spine and the way it then dipped into her waist left his mouth dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his oral cavity. Even the simplest comparison between the girl and the sea eventually drifted to thoughts of him charting the maiden voyage.

Chuck shook his head. Surely, if Nathaniel knew what he thought of his new interest, his best friend would kick him to hell below.

And this was another curious case. Only days ago, Nathaniel had been annoyingly aglow with delight at the chit's company. Yet now, the girl's ire burned even brighter than her enthusiasm had that rainy day when she came barging into his dinner. It seemed that Nathaniel had rebuked her, but it was a rare occurrence for Nathaniel to tire of a girl as quickly as he normally did. Also, there was no way that a girl like Blair Waldorf, who insisted on being referred to as Lady at every turn, would spread her legs so quickly. If not for her virtue, her cunning nature would be wise to the fact that her virtue was one of the few valuable bargaining tools for a respectable woman. The way Nathaniel spoke about her before, as well, had given Chuck the impression that this may have been the one to separate them indefinitely when he once again went on his adventures while his brother stayed behind to play the obedient husband.

Since his arrival to this backwater patch, apparently, the world had gone mad.

* * *

Lady Eleanor caught her daughter, unkempt and breath ragged from her day in outside, just in time to criticize her inattention to her delicate complexion. Where was her hat? Did she wish to become brown in the sun just like the field workers in the outer edges of their property? Even as Blair undressed and immersed herself in the bath prepared by her handmaiden, she swallowed back the scathing replies that were jumping at her throat. Yes, she supposed being outside did lighten her mood from before, but she was still quickly remembering the conversation with Nathaniel, the humiliation of being rejected so frankly.

She almost groaned at how desperate she must have looked. A woman actively pursuing a man for a moment of his day. What sort of spell had Archibald put her under?

"Although, I was most pleased to hear that you and Chuck are finally spending some time together. It would do us well to get along with him and remain well connected to the boy. Young and brash he may be, but he is, by law, our master now. I do wish for the two of you to spend more time together"

"And I wish for father to burst from heaven and slay the undeserving bastard with a shining blade, but I don't particularly foresee that in the stars, mother." She sighed as her muscles relaxed under the gentle embrace of the water and willed her mother to disappear.

"Oh, Blair, must you be such an unpleasant girl?"

Unpleasant. Perhaps that was the reason why Nathaniel wanted nothing to do with her anymore. "Because you raised me to be so, mother." And just as she expected, it did the trick. Lady Eleanor Waldorf walked out the door with her head held high and a great, dignified sniff.

Peace at last. It was a shame that the only time a woman could have some time to herself was when she chased her mother out of the room while she was in a bath. Blair ran a cloth down her bare calf, lifted right into the air so that the water could wash off of it as she scrubbed away the grime. She arched her foot, the tip of her toes reaching for the sky and pondered her day. It was true that Master Chuck was polite, if not downright kind in her distraught state. Even when she was less than polite to his attempts at conversation.

Still, she could not quite get the feel of his lips against hers that night against the stairwell, the pressure of his body against hers. It was nothing quite like what she had ever felt - nothing like the warmth that spread through her body from her pumping organ out to her very fingertips.

No. He consumed her. Each kiss, he had devoured more of her soul with his lips, covering more and more of her even in those brief moments. Like a string was being pulled down her body, he drew her closer to him with his mouth, pulling her up. Higher and higher. The fire, a raging heat that scorched the very ground beneath her feet, went rampage, flushed against her very skin.

No, she was quite sure there was nothing short of satanic about that sort of hellfire. Even thinking of it now, her skin flushed of its own accord. As though his eyes were watching that very moment.

* * *

Chuck Bass tried to remember those days when he could have any woman in his bed. Or rather, several women in his bed. Of his choosing. The confidence he acquired from never having been rebuked from a member of the opposite sex - that was something he missed. He wondered if any man in this place ever had any self-respect? Lord Waldorf, a great father though he was, seemed as though with the slightest flick of either of the Ladies Waldorf's fingers, would scramble to the edge of the world to search for whatever treasure they desired.

Chuck had once vowed never to become such a dog to any woman. No. Never would there be a creature who would have his soul wound so tightly around her little whims that he could abandon his plethora of women for just that one. It would be as absurd as trading an entire world full of rubies for a single, perfectly round and iridescent pearl.

Yet here he was, in a dark corridor, only a slit of lit skin from the door that swung slightly ajar - just enough to give him the perfect view. It was all he could do to stop himself from falling upon his knees and crawling to that beautiful limb, slick from the fragrant bathwater and bathing in the candlelight, and worshipping it with his lips. To move his mouth, trailing a path further and further up until he could bury his face right there between her undoubtedly perfect thighs. To hear the proper Englishwoman in her fall apart in pants and moans, fingers gripping his hair, her undoing at his tongue.

From his angle, he could not see much else but the slight swell of the top of her breasts that rose above the water where she sat. Her hair pinned, he saw that expanse of neck and shoulders, upon which a beauty mark laid, awaiting his kiss.

It was a crime for such a body to go about unpleasured. Like a Marlowe play gone unperformed, never to see the light of day, yet always lurking, hoping for someone to happen upon it bathing and become tantalized to the point of obsession, waiting for someone to curl his tongue around its words until the whole thing fell into a beautiful chaos. As his hand wrapped around himself and squeezed, he could hardly wait for the second act.

Yet, they do say the anticipation was thrilling, and so he returned to his room, the thoughts of that neck never quite far from his thoughts.

* * *

"I am free!" The post had come late the next afternoon, but even Chuck could not complain due to the extraordinary news it carried. "Nathaniel! Come have a drink with me! I am free!" He was positively jubilant and could hardly wait for a servant to bring him their finest wine.

Nathaniel's footsteps echoed down the staircase before he came into view. "I was not aware that you were shackled in chains." A drink was shoved into his hand before he had a chance to protest the noise. It would hardly do for two gentlemen of their position to act so rambunctiously while two ladies resided under the same roof...

"Oh, Nathaniel, every step I take upon this earth is restricted by boredom - the worst sort of prison. But now, the old man has finally seen the light! Ah yes, it will be glorious indeed!" He threw back the glass in his hand, a flourish of white billowing sleeve in front of him. "Come now, boy. Keep up!" He filled Nathaniel's glass to the brim, even if he had not yet taken so much as a sip.

"What is all this noise? Please refrain from behaving as though you are in a whorehouse."

"Blair! That is hardly polite!" The two ladies entered and sat at the table, but not before Blair and Nathaniel shared an uncomfortable glance. The two had been avoiding each other, cutting corners and turning in corridors since that day when Blair had come back from the town with Chuck.

"No matter, Lady Waldorf! I am in such a mood that not even your daughter's sharp tongue can dampen my spirits!" Jennifer took the bottle from his hand before his swaggering spilled a staining drop of red on his shirt while her brother brought in a fresh plate of dried sweets. "Ladies, gentlemen." He paused and raised his glass to Daniel, who stood uncomfortably to the side. "Daniel." The scribe had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. It was hardly news that his master, who now waved a cream colored envelope and card in the air, saw him as his latest plaything. "This, my friends, is a letter forwarded from Lord Bass for my return to polite society." He made a grand gesture of clearing his throat and reading from the card. "Captain Charles Bass, your presence is requested at the annual May Masquerade hosted by your friends, Sir Aaron Rose and Mrs. Serena Rose."

Blair watched Nathaniel's eyes shift at the mention of the lady's name and when his eye caught hers, he looked away. A sudden wistful air overtook her and she could hardly listen to the rest of Chuck's ridiculous celebration.

"Oh, that all seems grand, does it not, Blair?" Her mother nudged her painfully in the ribs where the boning of her corset dug into her skin and she winced. "Of course it does, dear. Perhaps Charles would not object to extending his invitation to include you."

"Mother, that is hardly appropriate."

"I am sure that will be fine. You are always going on about wanting to get out of this place. You used to beg your father, bless his soul, to take you to court with him!" Blair blushed red to the very roots of her hair. Of all the people in the world, Nathaniel Archibald and Charles Bass did not need to know any more about her.

"Madam, I am in a benevolent mood. I will gladly accompany Blair for her London debut." Before she could open her mouth to object, plans were made.

It was settled then. She was off to London.