The Rose's Ruse

Chapter 10

The little hairs that escaped from the hair knot Dorota had so skillfully tied tickled the back of her neck as the breeze picked up on the hillside. Blair looked over the little village that had been her home for all her years and, while she resented its homeliness during all that time, she couldn't help the nostalgia that rushed up her nasal passage and stung her eyes with tears. She would be back, surely, but the heroine in her felt the ties that had been forming between her memories and every grain of dirt under the children's feet.

She wiped at her eyes when she heard footsteps behind her - so comfortable was she in this place that she could feel the very air move. "Don't worry. I'll take very good care of everyone while you and Chuck are away."

The past week had been tense between herself and the man with whom she had once fancied herself in love. "I know."

"Blair, I..." There were a million words caught within him, running miles through his veins and pounding against his chest. They just couldn't seem to find their way to his tongue. Instead, he brought his hand to the small of her back, where the bodice of her dress blossomed out into a flurry of rose and cream. He was so close, the tip of his fingers almost touched the boning of her gown, but he fought against his instinct and curled his fingers back into a fist.

She closed her eyes. Tears for everything they could have been stung at the back of her lids. Everything she dreamed when she first saw him step off the ship in his shining armor. "I have to go," she whispered. And she ran, down the small hill to where her mother stood by the carriage.

He watched her run and never once looked back.

* * *

"We're all set to leave then, yes?" Her voice sounded shaky even to herself and she took a deep breath to calm the way her insides jumped and shivered.

"Of course, milady." Blair furrowed her delicate brow. He had been acting like this for days and it was unnerving to say the least. The sudden genteel manner with which he paraded around her home disturbed her so much that she avoided him to the best of her ability and he seemed to be doing the exact same thing.

"How many days until you reach London? And do send me a post once you have arrived safely," Eleanor said, showing the first hint of motherly affection since Blair consented to her departure.

"Four, if we hurry. It would be much quicker by ship, but it seemed that Lady Blair rather objected to the idea."

"Hmph!" Blair protested from her seat high within the carriage. "It certainly will not do for me to make my debut from a pirate ship. Now come along, Bass. We should leave if we are to arrive at our first stop before nightfall. I would loathe to keep your companionship after dark."

He gave a wry grin, one that suited him much more than the polite smile that had haunted him for days, and she breathed a little easier when he climbed into the carriage beside her. Dorota followed suit. It would, after all, be devastating for Blair's reputation were she to travel alone with a man without a chaperon.

"Shall we, then?" With a jerk, the wheels began to move beneath him and by sheer instinct, her lace-gloved hand grasped onto the cloth covered flesh of his thigh beside her and his body gave a jolt. Dorota looked uncomfortably out the small opening of the carriage and prepared herself for a long, disturbing journey.

The ride was surprisingly silent. He rested his forehead against the wall with his eyes closed and when Blair spied his face, completely relaxed for the first time, she felt almost... motherly. He truly did possess the most striking features and the skin there, despite the lavish and philandering lifestyle with which he occupied himself, was smooth and contoured.

She swept a quick glance at her maid, who had been lulled into sleep by the steady rhythm of the road, and in an act of uncharacteristic defiance, reached out her hand, the fingertips of her lace glove just brushing against his prominent cheekbones lightly. She felt his jaw flex as she leaned her palm in and that simple motion enthralled her. The strength and hardness of his bones felt strangely masculine and the contrast between such a display and his current dress would have made her buckle at the knees had she been standing.

Her palm laid flat on his cheek and he remained motionless, eyes shut. She watched his face truly for the first time. He was quite handsome, despite his boorish behavior. His hair fell across his forehead just so and brushed his straight, honest brow. Only a devil could be so deceptively shaped. His nose, though not as straight and dignified as it could be, was not as pig-like as she used to imagine in her fits of rage. And his lips, they looked softer than she remembered from their one unfortunate encounter the night of her discovery.

He tilted his head just so, and she knew that she should pull away lest she was caught in such a compromising position, but she couldn't quite tear herself from him. Even at the very moment when he turned and placed a gentle kiss on the palm of her hand, she was frozen at the intimate gesture. She turned quickly again to Dorota to find that she was still fast asleep and when she returned her attention, she found his bottomless eyes setting her aflame.

She would burn in hell for this intrusion and she was certain of it.

So just as though he was scalding her, she flinched away but he had already gripped her wrist and peeled off her glove. The warmth of his hand seemed to radiate throughout the carriage and it felt impossible to take a breath. With his eyes ever on hers, he bent forward and placed a kiss on her wrist, his lips even hotter than his touch and she was certain she would faint.

She was moving in slow motion, even her eyelids moved at a decreased pace as she blinked. All the energy seemed to have been sapped out of her to the trail of kisses he was leaving as he continued his exploration to her shoulder until his face was so close that he was nearly upon her. He must have seen the way she burned red but if it deterred him at all, she did not notice.

Her lip trembled when she felt him on her neck and when he pulled back, his face was a hair's breath away. She felt him exhale, a burst of hot air against her lower lip, and his eyes drifted from hers to the fleshy petals of her lips. His nose brushed hers. "Chuck," she whispered, bothered and breathless. Only when he paused, his gaze meeting hers, did she continue. "This behavior is hardly fitting for a lord."

"Did you forget, Blair?" He tilted his, their noses brushing again as he angled towards her. "I'm a pirate."

"Never." It was as though a demon had possessed her being, because with her gloves discarded, her dainty fingers grabbed at his collar and pulled him to her. She felt his hand on the hip of her skirts and the small part of her that would have been scandalized - the part of her that would have remembered her father's teachings - was squashed beneath the mischievous child who once stole Daniel's clothes while he swam in the river. His tongue pulled that girl from her and in her place was a woman who wanted nothing more at that moment than this man.

The carriage gave a jerk and Chuck let out a curse that he most definitely did not learn at court. Dorota stumbled awake and only then did Blair remember her place. She pulled away quickly and threw her entire upper body to the other side of the seat, her elbow resting by the wall and her hand to her swollen lips. She avoided her maid's suspicious gaze even as her hand shook. "It is certainly warm in here, isn't it?" Blair said with a shaky voice.

Still mumbling beneath his breath, Chuck threw open the small window by his side and from behind him, Blair spied a rider astride a handsome horse. "Bass," a voice drifted in, low and sly - just as Blair had imagined the serpent from the holy Book. A face came into view and a pair of green eyes met here. "I was not aware that you had such lovely company. You're a lucky man, Bass."

"Apparently." This was a Chuck Bass she had never seen before. He sat and spoke with such a dismissive nonchalance that it seemed impossible that just a moment earlier, they had been... "Our presence is requested at court, so I'm afraid we cannot stop for a proper introduction."

A sly smile appeared on the stranger's face. "Well, then, I suppose I will have to meet your lovely acquaintance in London then, angel." With the sound of beating hooves, he was gone, just as abruptly as he crashed into her life.

"Who was that, Master Chuck?" Dorota, who seemed to have finally gathered her wits, asked.

"That." He paused, his brow more seriously than Blair had ever seen on him. "...was Lord Baizen." He tore his eyes from the empty window back toward her, still troubled. "And I'm afraid he's taken quite a liking to you."

* * *

He could feel the eyes of his female companions linger on him occasionally. Chuck knew that he was silent, pensive even, but the worry was not unwarranted. This new development could cause nothing but trouble. He had known Carter nearly all his life - learned a lot of his tricks from him, even. When it came to women, Chuck had yet to meet one who was impervious to Carter Baizen's charm and title. He should not worry so, because certainly, Carter had an entire harem of mistresses and wives just waiting to unleash their secret desires on him.

But damn, if Carter did not always favor that which was not his. From the way the rake looked at Blair, his intentions were transparent. For now, then, he would keep his distance. Feign disinterest. Perhaps if Baizen saw the lack of competition, his interest will wane.

Chuck spared a glance at those delicious lips that just moments ago he had been feasting upon. The nausea waged war upon his flesh and he had to close his eyes to stave off the headache from being so close to temptation. He was certain that he had never hated Carter Baizen as much as he did in that moment.