Chapter Three:

There were very few instances in which Chuck Bass felt inferior. This was one of them. Standing outside the large double doors to his father's study and hearing the mumbled voices of grown men made him feel like a little boy. He peered through the tiny crack between the doors as he used to, unable to see much except silhouettes growing larger.

The doors flew open and several men dressed in black frocks shuffled out. Bart Bass stood by his desk looking up at the portrait of the late Duchess of Warwick, Chuck's mother. Like Chuck, she had been dark and beautiful and elegant before dying in childbirth.

Chuck readjusted the grasp on his leather portfolio and strode into the room with his head held high. "Father-"

"Shut the door," the Duke ordered.

The abrupt command knocked the confidence out of Chuck. He ground his teeth and returned to the open doorway. As he pulled the doors closed, he took a reassuring breath and attempted to shake off the inner child clawing within. He turned back to the Duke.

"Father … I've drawn up a plan that I know you'll approve. We need to discuss expansion in America. While I'm not one to converse with an American, there is no business sense in slighting a potential gold mine," he joked.

"I didn't call you in here to discuss business plans, Charles… though it does comfort me that your college tuition was not a complete waste." Bart tapped a finger on the edge of his desk as if pointing to the next item on the docket. "What you fail to understand is that business is not simply logistics and numbers. The Bass name has a reputation to uphold. And you've done nothing but soil it."

"Sir?"

"Your annual soiree, Charles," Bart said, pinning him with his gaze. "Did you or did you not attempt to poison the young Humphrey?"

Chuck's brows went up as if the accusation were more a personal affront. "Poison?" he said half-humorously. "It was harmless—just a welcoming dose of hazing for our new arrival. Do you really believe I would poison someone?"

"Doesn't matter. The Times almost had their hands on this. Think of the damage to the Bass name. I won't have it, Charles. I've let you parade around for years. No more. I leave tomorrow to tour the estates. Upon my return in August, you will have a wife."

"A what?" Chuck fumed. "This is insanity! It was a prank!" He approached the Duke's desk. "Let's be done with this nonsense. If you would just look at the proposal I drafted, you would see how hard I've worked, how much I care-"

"I am already in negotiations to expand in America," Bart said, dismissing Chuck's portfolio with a wave. "Rufus Humphrey has assets and connections that are invaluable to me. You attempting to poison his son does not bode well for business. I'm certain even you can understand that-"

"Christ, I did not poison him!" Chuck said, slamming his fists on the desk. "I refuse to have my life dictated. Leave, if you must, but you will not find me betrothed upon your return."

The Duke took his high back chair like a throne. Even at a lower position, he exuded a higher status that Chuck could not explain. He eyed his son with cold, gray eyes.

"If you have not chosen a bride by August, I will disinherit you. You're a man now, Charles. Time to take responsibility and perform your duty to this family. Find a wife. Produce an heir. Enjoy your privileged life. Business matters are far over your head."

"Damn you!" Chuck exploded, shoving a stack of parchment at Bart and sending them flying. "You cannot do this! This is my life! You cannot make demands and ultimatums-"

"Watch me!" The Duke retorted, standing and leaning across the desk. "Need I remind you that in a negotiation, you must have some leverage, some power. You have no power. You are nothing without me. I could have you married to the Van der Woodsen girl and be done with it. As it is, I'm exercising extreme patience and giving you one last chance to prove yourself as a man and as my son. I will have your gratitude but none of your tantrums!"

It was probably the most Bart Bass had ever spoken to his son in one length of time. The Duke smoothed his cravat and returned to his chair, calm and collected once again as he picked up the documents Chuck had sent flying. Chuck looked at his father, the man that had starved him of any true fatherly love or affection, and a part of him suffocated and caved.

"Thank you, Father, for your generosity. I apologize for being a disappointment. You have my word -- I shall procure a suitable wife by Season's end. If that is all, I wish to be excused."

Chuck turned his back on the Duke without waiting for permission and left the study. Back in the sanctity of his own room, he poured himself a glass of scotch and downed it, feeling some relief in the burning sensation down his throat. But it didn't quite mask the boiling pit of rage in his gut … or the carved out hollow in his chest.

Blair had a headache from the fake enthusiasm she had been exuding during their pre-ball activities. The carriage ride with Serena and both their mothers, though brief, had been especially trying. Any amount of time spent with Serena and pretending to be the dearest of friends was slow torture.

The first hurdle of the evening, however, had been breached upon arriving at Almack's. Blair had been careful to keep her cloak on till the last possible moment. When Eleanor saw Chuck's alterations to Blair's gown, Blair could see that it took all her mother's energy not to say a word. Eleanor would never cause a scene, a fact Blair well knew.

And now, it was Blair's time. She had been introduced to the ballroom and was descending the stairs in her gown and gloves, hair pinned up with jewels, the slightest bit of rouge to her cheeks and lips. She was spectacular, and she knew it, could feel it as every set of eyes turned to her.

Introductions overlapped as budding suitors gathered around her, each clamoring for a slot on her dance card. As instructed, Blair did not acknowledge Nate, though he seemed eager to gain an audience with her. After half an hour of conversing with her beau, Nate found an opening.

"Miss Blair, might I steal you away for a few moments?" His request was met with many protests, but Blair promised her fans she'd return shortly. Nate led her to an alcove where they might have a bit more privacy.

Instead of squealing with delight at her current predicament, Blair tried to recall Chuck's advice from the other afternoon. She scanned the room as if consumed by the festivities, meanwhile impatient for Nate to say or do something.

"You look lovely tonight," he finally said.

Blair beamed up at him. "That is very kind of you to say."

Nate smiled. "I called on you yesterday. Twice. You were not in?"

"No, I was not, unfortunately," she said as nonchalantly as she could muster.

Nate leaned in slightly. "I apologize for taking you away from your many admirers, but I had to speak with you."

Blair leaned in as well. "Oh?" This was it. He would profess his love and her dreams would come true all at once.

"I wanted to thank you. For your blessing. Serena told me. I was so worried that I had misled you, that our childhood romance had been inflated. To have your approval of us eases my mind greatly."

From an extreme high to the lowest of lows, Blair was having trouble acclimating to her new altitude in Hell. The ballroom was much too loud and devoid of oxygen. Oh no, she thought. I'm spinning.

"Blair? Are you well?" Nate's voice cut in. As he grabbed her arm to stabilize her, Blair caught a glimpse of Chuck Bass over Nate's shoulder. His piercing gaze sent a jolt through her, rooting her back to the present. She shook her head delicately as if to clear it.

"Forgive me, I am not used to so much activity! You were saying?" she said with a flutter of her eyelashes.

"I was thanking you for your blessing …"

"Oh, but of course!" Blair said, making a fast recovery. "Nate, honestly, you and Serena are predestined for one another. I'm sure your parents are delighted. Why, they always dreamed of aligning themselves with the Van der Woodsens."

"You're not disappointed?" Nate asked, an edge of disappointment to his own voice.

Blair playfully swatted at his arm. "Yes, Nate, I am terribly wounded! We had plans to elope, you and I!" she teased. "But meaningless childhood games must be set aside sooner or later. Oh! Please excuse me. I promised Carter the first dance!"

Blair made sure to accidentally brush past Nate as she made her way to Carter, smiling and nodding to acquaintances. Twenty intolerable minutes of flirting and keeping up appearances later, she escaped to an antechamber to freshen herself.

As Blair surveyed herself in the glass, Whoregina manifested in the powder room like a witch wrapped in her black silk gown.

"Good evening, Georgina. Are you in mourning or putting your soul on display? Congratulations on passing the Patronesses' scrutiny. They must be trying to diversify this Season."

"My, someone is in a mood," Georgina said, smiling at her own reflection. "What an impressive assault for so early in the evening. I wear black, Blair, because every other debutante is wearing white." She pulled toilet water from her reticule and applied it to her throat. "Insult me all you wish, but we both know the truth." She dropped her toilet water into her reticule. "No matter how powerful you assume you are, everyone in that ballroom can see your desperation … your jealousy of Serena … your blatant desire for Lord Archibald …"

Georgina snickered at Blair's reddened face, accepting her victory with relish. Blair could only simmer as Georgina sauntered away. A few deep breaths and a damp cloth controlled Blair's flush, leaving only a few hints of fury on her cheeks. An hour more of this, and she could make an early retreat.

The final straw, however, hit her in the hallway where she bumped into Serena.

"B, I am so happy! Now, we only need to find you someone and we could both be married soon!" Serena gave her a quick squeeze and rushed ahead to the swirling couples and riot and music. Blair took a defeated stroll out to the terrace. As if he had read her mind, Chuck was there. Waiting.

"I am not going to cry," Blair said with force. "What a disaster!"

"You followed my instructions. Everything appeared to go as planned," Chuck said, staring into the gardens.

"And how misleading appearances can be!" she declared. "He thanked me for my blessing and assuaged his own guilt. I was so taken aback I nearly fainted." Blair grabbed Chuck's flask out of his hand and took an unladylike swig, spilling a little. She wiped her chin and shuddered. "I managed to remind him of his family's expectations, hoping to plant a seed of rebellion. He seemed completely unaffected, though." Blair took a smaller sip. "And to make matters worse, Whoregina caught me at a weak moment and took full advantage." She slumped against the stone balcony wall next to Chuck.

"If it is any consolation," he drawled, "The Duke rejected my plans. A merger with the Humphreys is already in the works, and he did not appreciate my interference."

Blair's annoyed expression melted into one of concern, and she squeezed his forearm comfortingly. "That is no consolation to me at all. What was it this time? Did he threaten to disinherit you again if you do not mend your wicked ways?" she teased.

Chuck smiled sadly, but his eyes betrayed something darker. "Something like that," he said. "Now, let us return to your horrid state-"

"Please, I'm done for," she pleaded. "I shall make my leave-"

"No, you will stay," Chuck ordered. "You will stay, drink lemonade and flirt shamelessly with everyone in that ballroom … except Archibald."

"But it's not working," Blair whined.

Chuck held up a finger. "No pouting," he warned. "Nate could not take his eyes off you when you were with Carter. He always has to have what Carter wants. It is a ridiculous obsession. I'll take care of Georgina."

"Sounds like you have a plan," Blair said, arching a brow. Chuck's smirk confirmed. Blair squared her shoulders. "Then I will trust you and stay," she said. "Shall we?"

Chuck offered his arm and escorted her to the open doors to the ballroom. It was there they parted ways, knowing that entering separately was far more obvious than entering together. It indicated that they had something to hide and immediately caused a small buzz that spread through the ballroom at the typical speed of gossip.

Armed with a spiked glass of lemonade, Blair went to work socializing and playing the part of the desirable debutante. Meanwhile, Chuck set out to find Carter Baizen.

"Carter, our darling Blair needs a favor. Would you mind dancing with her next? Her former partner is adding decoration to the rose bushes."

"I would, certainly, but I am promised to Miss Sparks," Carter said.

"Ah, Miss Sparks," Chuck said, loving his luck. "Allow me to fill in for you."

"Why not you fill in for Blair's partner?"

Chuck took on a secretive air. "She asked specifically for you."

Chuck left Carter smirking smugly at that and weaved his way to Georgina.

"Georgina, my love. Carter has been so gracious as to allow me your hand in the next dance."

Georgina was beside herself. Chuck bid her a temporary adieu and glided effortlessly to Nate, who was conversing with Serena.

"Serena, I believe Lily was looking for you," Chuck said smoothly, taking her place beside Nate as she thanked him and disappeared into the crowd.

"I am glad everything is resolved on the Serena front," Chuck began, sipping his altered lemonade. "I apologize for pushing you towards Waldorf. I did not realize her true feelings."

"No, please, no need, mate," Nate said, looking somewhat sour over his lemonade. "I was just as surprised, to be honest. Do you know who Blair has her sights on? Anyone in particular?"

"Curious you should ask," Chuck said, pointing his glass across the floor to Blair who was at that particular moment accepting Carter's hand.

"Two dances?" Nate said incredulously. "That's a bit shocking."

"Not nearly as shocking as – Miss Sparks!" Chuck bowed at the approaching lady in black.

"Shall we?" Georgina said salaciously, extending her hand.

"Madame," Chuck said with mock horror. "I beg your pardon, I did not realize before. The quadrille is not my forte. Please accept my apology. Also, Blair sends her regards."

With a huff, Georgina spun on her heel and retreated.

"You are so cruel to her," Nate said, amused by the spectacle.

"Only when she's useful," Chuck quipped. With a calculated amount of puzzlement, he looked at the gathering couples awaiting the music. "Wait … weren't you supposed to partner Blair for the first quadrille?"

Nate stared, bemused at Carter and Blair taking their places in the formation. "Yes, I believe I was."

"I wouldn't read too much into it," Chuck offered, with just the right amount of sympathy. "If I know Blair, and I think I do … she thought it best to release you from any obligations to her to further validate her blessing."

"I can understand that motive to a degree, but to dance with Carter a second time within an hour seems blatant, does it not? We cannot let her encourage him. They are not suited for one another."

"You're right," Chuck said, a gleam in his eye. "But you needn't fret. Someone more worthy has his sights set on Waldorf."

"Really? Who?"

Chuck took another swig from his glass and held it up in a salute. "Me."

Nate stifled a laugh. "No! You? Married?"

"It just so happens that the Duke has requested that I find a wife this Season. So yes. Me. Married. To Blair. She has breeding, brains, beauty and everything else I could possibly want or need in a wife. No one in this room even comes close in comparison."

As if on cue, Blair laughed at something Carter said, her gaiety and graceful movement on the dance floor enhancing her beauty all the more. She truly is perfection, Chuck thought.

"Then again," he said, his tone hinting at resolve, "My father has made his preference clear. He'd have me offer myself to Serena."

Upon Serena's return, Chuck winked at Nate and bid them both well, leaving Nate to brood. A few nods and brief salutes allowed Chuck further away from the action so that he might have a few minutes to himself. Not bad for one night's work.

Chuck's celebratory mood was cut short, however, as Dan Humphrey meandered toward him. He stood beside Chuck, sort of swaying in place for a moment before opening his mouth to speak.

"No," Chuck said.

Dan looked around, dumbfounded. "But I haven't-"

"Go away," Chuck insisted coldly, his expression turning mutinous.

Dan leaned in conversationally. "I am recovering quite nicely from your party. Thank you for asking," he joked.

Chuck's eyes grudgingly turned to Dan. "How did you know?"

"I'm not as simple or as crude as you make me to be," Dan explained. "America has women. Beautiful women. We even have social gatherings just like this one – that is, when we're not chanting around fires and painting ourselves with mud-"

"You're boring me."

"Though the blonde wench who spiked my drink was extremely well-endowed, her charms did not quite captivate me."

It was Chuck's turn to be dumbfounded, his eyes squinting in confusion.

"If you knew your drink was spiked, why on Earth did you drink it?"

"How else would I know what was in it? Besides, I needed proof to use it against you. Did I mention I'm pursuing a career in journalism?"

Chuck's jaw clenched as he recalled his father's words. The Times almost had their hands on this … "Do you have any idea whom you're dealing with?" Chuck bit out.

Dan waved his hand like a white flag. "I assure you, I only wished to gain your attention."

Chuck gestured with his glass. "You have it. What do you want?"

"I am serious about my career. I need an in to the top circles for material. I would exclude any mention of you, of course, but I hope you can at least appreciate my abilities."

"Impressive," Chuck said. "I'll put in a good word for you, secure invitations to elite events. Will that satisfy you?"

"A promise not to poison me again would be much appreciated," Dan said.

"I simply increased the potency of your drink, nothing more," Chuck said with disgust. "If I had wanted to poison you, we would not be having this conversation. In fact …" The words trailed off as Chuck walked away.

The spiked lemonade was having its bubbly effects on Blair as she swirled away from Count Daalgard right into Dan Humphrey.

"Miss Waldorf," Dan greeted, bowing his head when she looked up.

"Excuse me, Humphrey, but I am previously engaged-"

"To dance with me," Dan inserted.

Before she had time to utter an objection, Dan was leading her onto the floor as the band struck up a waltz.

"I should give you the cut direct this instant!" she hissed.

"Yes, but think of the added allure you will have being the only debutante to have danced with the mysterious American."

"Hiding in shadows does not make you mysterious. Rodents have a similar inclination."

"Touché," Dan said, highly amused. "Aren't you the least bit curious as to why I chose you to dance with and no one else?"

"A true lady would never be so bold to ask a gentleman his intentions, for a true gentleman would make his intentions known."

"But I am an American, a barbarian. Indeed, I am the worst kind of scoundrel and far from a gentleman. But out of consideration to present company, I shall reveal myself. In truth, I find you fascinating and wish to escort you to the museum for the new antiquity exhibition."

"The museum?" she said, befuddled.

"Yes. It's a large building that houses priceless artifacts-"

"I have no interest in attending the museum with you," Blair said in a huff.

"You also have no curiosity for the basis of my fascination?"

"No, not in the least, but pray, do tell me how I may lose your interest."

"If it were even possible, I wouldn't oblige your request. Your obvious annoyance and discomfort is a source of endless entertainment for me."

Something about Dan Humphrey's light jesting manner and quick wit was making him less and less of an irritation to Blair. As she snuck a peek at Nate waltzing with Serena, a little flirtation seemed harmless.

"One afternoon of your company would not be too bothersome," she conceded, looking up at him through her lashes. "So tell me, what is it about me that you find so fascinating?"

"How bold of you, my lady!" he said, acting appalled. "I could never answer such a forward question in this fine setting surrounded by all these fine people in all of their … finery."

Blair chuckled at his absurdity. "You seemed keen to tell me only a moment ago …"

"Nay, I merely asked if you were curious to know, which you have made quite clear that you are. But my secrets are safe with me."

"Touché, sir," Blair praised.

"Sir? And to think, I was a mere rodent when we began. My skills at social climbing have exceeded even my own expectations."

Blair was so engrossed in her banter with Dan that she had completely forgotten her troubles with Nate. The two continued to converse and laugh while Chuck looked on from the sidelines, his jaw aching from the clenching.

Who the Hell is this Dan Humphrey character? Chuck thought. Nate was too trusting of a person to be considered a real threat. His loyalty and lack of direction made him the easiest of targets in manipulation. But Humphrey was an outsider, waltzing through Chuck's world without heed to rules or caution. He was a maverick piece in a finely crafted game of chess, moving any which way he pleased. And now he was making a play for Blair's affection, if only to advance his journalistic career. Chuck could only hope that that was the extent of his motive. Blair needed to be warned. But Chuck couldn't be bothered with that now. With the ultimatum from his father and new competition, he needed to jump in the game and win Blair's heart. Now. Perhaps he could force her to elope-

"Charles," Eleanor drawled, putting her arm through his and leading him away from his thoughts. "Lily and I are quite tired. Do be a dear and make our excuses to the girls. We will send the carriage back for them."

"My lady, I would be honored to escort Miss Serena and Miss Blair home myself. I insist," Chuck said, offering his most winning smile.

"You are too kind, Charles. Please have them home at a decent hour. They will have plenty of callers upon the morrow."

Chuck was very pleased with this opportunity. Though Blair lived around the corner, he would drop Serena off in Kensington first, allowing a leisurely journey back to St. James's Square. A forced elopement no longer seemed such a necessity. Now the question was simply what to do when he had Blair all to himself in the seclusion of a dark carriage …

"Did you see me?" Blair exclaimed, spanning her arms across the carriage and collapsing onto the plush bench as the vehicle set in motion. "I was brilliant! I was sensational! I-"

"You're drunk," Chuck concluded, rubbing his temples. Serena and Blair had gossiped incessantly the entire ride to Kensington. Wooing or seduction or whatever he had planned had been thrown out the window. He was hoping for some relief now that Serena was gone … but alas, fate would not have it so.

"Drunk?" Blair said. "A lady is never drunk! I am simply in high spirits!"

"You've had too many spirits, Blair – Blair!" he scolded, tackling her down to the bench and thwarting her attempts to dance. Tucking in beside her, he had to restrain her arms.

"Even you have to admit how brilliant I was," she insisted, relaxing her head against the velvet pillows behind her. "Excellent choice replacing Nate with Carter. Was he furious? And Georgina disappeared! What a blissful night!" She sighed. "I did not see you dance once, though."

Chuck released her arms and collapsed, closing his eyes. "Trust me. I did my fair share of dancing." He let his head fall in her direction, recalling her delight and exuberance on the dance floor. "You were, though. Brilliant, I mean."

Blair looked at him, a moment of sobriety. "Thank you, Chuck … for everything."

Chuck opened his eyes. Blair's cheeks were rosy from merriment and drink, her lips parted in invitation. He would never know if he moved or she moved first, but they were soon sliding across the seat into each other's arms.

All the events of the night faded away, trampled beneath the steady drum of beating hooves as the carriage rocked comfortingly back and forth. Chuck touched his forehead to Blair's almost as if in prayer. Indeed, he did pray that she would remember this moment come morning. And this, he thought, touching his lips to hers ever so softly.

Blair instinctively molded her lower lip to his upper, their mouths perfectly interlocked. Her satin-covered hands cupped his face as Chuck's fingers slid up her neck, his thumbs tracing her jaw. The feeling overcoming Chuck was beyond wanting or lust. In all his former wicked and pleasure-seeking ways, never had anything felt so simple, so right. He had always been bound to Blair. But with his kiss, he was binding her to him.

That is, if she remembered …