Never Be Free Chapter Seven
Title: Never Be Free
Author: Noirreigne
Pairing: Blair/Chuck & Blair/OC
Rating: R for language and smut.
Spoilers: Through 2x17
Summary: Except you enthrall me, never shall be free. Future Fic.
Previous Chapters
“Good Afternoon, Jameson,” Blair greeted politely, handing her coat to Lady Rochester’s ancient manservant. He looked to be on death’s doorstep, stooped and gaunt, with white tufts of hair that burst from his soft, pink skull. He was surprisingly unchanged from the first time he had ushered her into this house years ago.
Grunting a pained reply, Jameson ambled with the speed of a tortoise down the long corridor to the drawing room where afternoon tea was always laid. Normally she engaged in pleasantries with the servants, thanks to the influence of her dearest Dorota, but she learned the hard way on her first visit five years ago, that the poor man was completely hard of hearing. She still squirmed with embarrassment when she recalled the conversation she had assumed they were having about the eccentricities of Britain’s titled class before she was interrupted by Lady Rochester’s laughter.
Blair would have given up all her Prada handbags not to be here today. It wasn’t that she disliked her hostess, Lady Rochester, or Emily as she preferred to be called by her friends. The truth was she could hardly say no. Emily was the only person who, when she was introduced into London society, hadn’t treated her like some weird disease Cedric had picked up on his sojourn in France. She had been truly kind to Blair, seeking her out at parties and gently educating her over several proper tea dates on how to avoid the social gaffes that befell most foreigners. Emily’s generosity was partly due to her own experiences as a fish out of water. For a poor young American war bride who married into the aristocracy, society had been a perilous minefield that consistently blew up on her. Now, since her husband’s death years ago, she had become a bit of an institution, a matriarch, all her earlier social trespasses forgiven.
This was the first time Blair had heard from her friend in almost a year and since the painstakingly written invitation to tea read like a command, she had given in. She believed that she owed her friend as much, and that is why she ignored the nausea that had all but driven her to take residence in the bathroom the last few days. With Cedric feverish from the chemotherapy and her stomach constantly in revolt from any food, including water, she had every reason in the world to stay home.
She tapped her foot, frowning in frustration, as she waited impatiently for her presence to be announced by Jameson. She wanted nothing more than to rush through her tea and return to the comfort of her home. Finally the octogenarian stepped aside allowing her to squeeze past him and enter. Emily excitedly rose to meet her, dumping the pug dog that was seated in her lap unceremoniously to the floor. The animal clearly understanding who was responsible for the loss of it’s warm plush lap, glared balefully at Blair before turning and ducking under the draped tea table. Instead of the usual air kisses Emily gave Blair a short, yet genuine hug, wrapping her shaking, scarily thin and lavender chiffon draped arms around her.
“Blair, I’m so pleased you could come. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, my health being what it is lately. I do apologize for the abrupt nature of my note, but I thought it was imperative that we speak,” she said, her head quavering. Her tightly coiled iron colored curls never moving from their hairpins.
“It’s lovely to see you,” Blair replied sweetly, seating herself on a worn satin regency chair. The drawing room always immaculately kept was now tinted gray with floating dust and smelled faintly of mold and wet dog. Lady Rochester’s age was finally catching up to her. Not wishing to ruin what may be one of their few remaining tea times left, she painfully swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking away the tears that pricked her eyes.
“Tea? If I remember right you take it plain.” Emily stated, not bothering to wait for an answer as she poured some into a delicate rose patterned teacup.
“That’s fine. Thank You.” Reaching out, she steadied the wavering bone china teacup held out to her, ignoring the liquid that spilled over the top unto the saucer. She looked away as Emily shuddered her way back to the couch, the older woman’s body jerking and trembling with each movement. It took all her control not to leap up and assist her old friend, but she knew it was the last thing she would want. Since she never once hinted or alluded to her illness over the last year, choosing instead to hide out in her townhouse, Blair was not about to draw attention to it. Blowing on her tea she focused on the waves of steam drifting over the scalloped edge of her dainty cup, studiously pretending not to see what was in front of her eyes.
Lady Rochester, with her condition, didn’t bother to attempt to drink her tea. She peered at Blair through parchment like wrinkled folds. Her hawk like yet fond eyes missed nothing as she retreated to her seat.
“You’re just as lovely as the day Cedric married you. Regardless of what everyone said, I knew it was a good match the moment I laid eyes on you. You were just what he needed. Something other then himself to focus and take care of.”
“We’ve been very happy together,” Blair said primly, attempting to sip at the tea.
“Anyone can see that. It was a good thing his mother died when she did. She really did the poor boy a disservice. He was always sickly, but that was no reason for her to keep him locked up in that house with only his books and plants for company. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to him.”
Blair looked at her friend in astonishment. This was not the conversation she expected to come of her invitation to tea. Lady Rochester, while never the highest stickler when it came to propriety, had never shared any thoughts about Cedric, his mother, or Blair’s marriage with Blair before.
“He’s been good for me too,” she said softly. Tears once more teased her eyes, her stomach slowly rising to her throat as it revolted against the plain tea.
“You’ve been good for each other then. I hear he’s not doing well? Is the cancer back?”
“Yes,” she sighed, the sound as soft as the fluttering of angel’s wings.
“He’s won’t outlive his mother then. It caught up with her in her forties.” She looked at her with pity. “I’m so sorry Blair.”
Blair nodded, looking down at the floor. She focused on the colorful complicated patterns woven in the oriental carpet, keeping the tears at bay.
“I know you never talk about it, but have you and Cedric ever thought about trying to get pregnant again? It’s never easy to lose a child, I should know, but that doesn’t mean you should give up. Have you talked to a doctor? It might not be too late.”
“It’s something we’re considering,” she said cautiously, her expression bland.
“That’s good. It would be tragic after centuries for the Errol title to become extinct.”
“Don’t worry. I would never let that happen,” Blair said grimly, her mouth slipping into a controlled smile.
“Good. Good,” Emily said, her head bobbing up and down. “I can’t tell you how that puts my mind at ease. I didn’t think you were one of these modern women that are against having children, but after so many years passing without a child you can’t blame me for worrying. I really don’t want to leave this world without knowing you and Cedric are happy and that you will be taken care off. You’re not meant to be alone and - forgive me - but when Cedric goes a child will help keep you busy, ease the pain.”
“I’ll be fine. Cedric’s treatment is going wonderfully and you’ll be back to yourself in no time. Give it time and we will all be dining together like we used too.” Blair said perkily, even as tendrils of encroaching grief breached her confident tone.
“Of course,” she murmured, looking at Blair with pity. Her body growing weaker daily, her muscles failing her, Lady Rochester was looking forward to death. The only thing she regretted was knowing she wouldn’t be there for Blair when the time came. She had grown close to the girl, living vicariously through her triumphs. Guiding her through the shark-infested waters of British society had proved most entertaining in her twilight years. She rested easy in the knowledge that, with her scheming, Blair would not have to spend her widowhood alone like she had.
The long drawn out noise of shuffling feet heralded the slow yet steady arrival of Jameson.
“Ah, yes. Our visitor must be here. I hope you will forgive me, but I’ve done something quite inappropriate,” she giggled girlishly. “I’ve meddled where I probably shouldn’t, but I knew Misty Bass and her son is really quite convincing and charming.”
“Excuse me?” Blair choked out.
“Chuck Bass, came to see me last week. I wouldn’t have bothered, but I remembered meeting his mother when she was on her honeymoon trip. He begged for a chance to see you, say goodbye before he left.”
Blair stared at her mutely. Was there anyplace, anybody that was safe from him? Who knew where he would pop up next? She would have to start making Bass checks everywhere she went. Just like the bed and closet checks she did for monsters as a child.
“Oh dear, I can see that I’ve upset you. Don’t worry. He’s told me everything and he won’t be interfering in your marriage any longer. He’s seen the error of his ways and now he just wants a chance to see you one last time before he leaves for America,” she confided.
“Chuck Bass never leaves! He’s like split ends, always there even when you can’t see them, wrecking havoc in your beautiful, perfect hair,” Blair said through gritted teeth.
“Really, Blair the poor man is only asking for a few minutes of your time to say goodbye. The least you can do is give him the closure he needs to move on,” the woman reprimanded, casting Blair one of her signature disapproving looks.
Blair looked at her in horror. The old woman not only was in poor health, she was clearly senile.
She braced herself as knuckles rapped a greeting on the thin wood paneled door. Jameson stepped aside as Chuck entered the room.
“Mr. Bass,” he intoned drearily, before painfully heading back down the corridor.
“Lady Rochester,” Chuck graciously bowed a greeting in the direction of his hostess. His eyes exultantly met Blair’s, corrupting his near perfect imitation of gentlemanly behavior.
“Lady Errol,” he smirked, his voice a challenge wrapped in a sensual caress.
Blair glared at him, lifting her chin defiantly, waves of images from their last meeting crashing feverishly into her and sweeping her away. She swallowed against the rising bile in her throat as she replayed the sound of her voice pleading for him to give her release like a broken record over and over again.
“Mr. Bass, I’ve just been discussing your travel plans and intentions with Blair. Now, I’ve had a full tea laid out for you both in the conservatory. You can have a nice little conversation, clear the air so to speak, so that you can both move on.” Emily glanced at the watch pinned to the front of her dress. “You have one hour to say your goodbyes before I send Jameson in,” she admonished, wagging her finger in Chuck’s direction. “No wandering fingers and roaming hands Mr. Bass. I expect the outmost conduct from you. Don’t make me regret this favor. “
Chuck held out his hand to Blair, the devil twinkling in his eyes. “Don’t worry Ma’m. I promise to behave.”
A small hysterical laugh burst from Blair’s lips as she rose from her seat, deliberately ignoring his courtly gesture.
“She must not realize that for you proper conduct can mean anything from drug use to secret sex societies.” She replied vehemently, leading him from the room.
“It was lovely to see you, Blair. Give my love to Cedric,” Lady Rochester trilled, as she lay back against the settee and pulled a cashmere throw over her legs in preparation for a mid afternoon nap.
Entering the small conservatory Blair was instantly taken aback by the oppressive heat beating sunnily through the widows and the wafting aromas from the tiny cucumber sandwiches and fruit tarts. Her breath hissed through her lips raggedly as she held her stomach muscles taunt to keep from gagging. She stopped in front of the small marble topped table, her back to him, ignoring the artistic spread of finger food.
“You’re not really leaving are you?” She asked dryly, even though she already knew the answer.
“What do you think, Blair?” His hands glided up her back and into her hair, combing through her curls. Lifting the mahogany silk to one side, he drew close and placed a kiss of warmth, sweetness and inevitability in the crook of her neck.
“So much for behaving,” she said sharply, hands trembling as she sought solace in the familiar ritual of straining tea leaves through steaming hot water. She had a feeling there would be no tea and civility between them today.
“Trust me, this is behaving. If I had my way I would lift your skirt and spread your legs right here on this table before you could shut me out again.“
She turned, facing him, gripping his hands painfully in hers. “This war between us, it’s over. Do your worst for I’m done. There is nothing you can do, nothing you can threaten that will convince me to leave Cedric.”
Chuck was silent for a long moment, his fingers curling over hers. “Even if you don’t love him the way you should?” He pulled her closer, moving slowly, giving her time to protest and move away. When she didn’t one hand encircled her waist, the other gently stroked her long thin fingers soothingly.
“I owe him everything,” she told him unsteadily.
“What do you feel?” He exhaled softly and she felt it on her lips, suffocating and heavy, tempting her.
“It doesn’t matter. The last things I can trust are my feelings.”
“You can trust me”
“Can I?” She entreated quietly, the delicate veil of ice enshrouding her heart and soul gently cracking and beginning to thaw.
She searched his face. It was beautiful, flames danced in his dark eyes and as usual they told her nothing. For a second the memory of what it felt like to be in his arms, kissed like she was the most precious of all treasures, was so vivid she could taste his lips on hers. It was so easy to imagine loving Chuck, but even easier to remember the destruction it caused.
He took her face in his hands, his eyes shining with love and tenderness, years of cynicism and dissipation falling away. Her hand slid up the hard planes of his chest of it’s own volition, coming to rest over his heart. Under her palm she could feel his heart speed up and her own breaking. Her other hand clung to him, his fine chambray shirt wrinkling in her fingers. When he finally kissed her it was with gentle strength, pure sweetness and without a hint of dominance. His thumb stroked her cheek; his tongue teasing her’s warm and worshipping. Bittersweet tears rained down her face, as the last of the ice caging her finally melted.
His lips became everything his words had not been: carnal and dangerous, sure in their approach. She felt drugged, trapped in liquid fire. She started to twist away from him, but he wouldn’t let her go. His large hand held her trapped against his muscled thighs. Despite herself, she fell once more under his spell, her tongue meeting his and her breath catching.
She didn’t want this again, the loss of control, those pleading noises and most of all the betrayal of her husband. She jerked away from him, knowing they couldn’t continue. The sudden movement was the last straw for her fragile stomach. Pitching forward she fell on her knees in front of one of the large potted plants, emptying her stomach. In the throes of gagging she felt his hands soothing, steady circling her back and shoulders easing the tension. She didn’t want him to see her like this, she wanted to tell him to leave, but she could only relax under his comforting touch. When she was finished, her throat free of the rusty burning acid, he handed her his linen, monogrammed handkerchief.
“Is this because of me? Did I cause that?” He asked hoarsely, his eyes haunted. “I never even considered that you might still be sick.”
She wanted to blame it all on him, tell him it was his entire fault, because in a way it was. Yet she couldn’t because for the first time she wanted no more lies between them. She was exhausted, tired of running and she knew there would be no more hiding from the truth soon. He wasn’t ever giving up.
“No, it’s not the bulimia. I’m pregnant.”
His face was cold, chiseled like the marble of a gravestone and his eyes were chips of flint.
“Congratulations are in order then for Cedric. I never would have guessed he had it in him.“
Her legs on the verge of collapsing she sat down. She blinked slowly, taking deep calming breaths. For a brief moment she was torn, her conscience never much of a problem before, was making its presence known. She was at the crossroads of the greatest decision in her life. It would be so easy to lie, make it all go away and free them all with her deceit.
“It’s yours.”
He stared at her agog, shaking his head. “No, it’s not possible. You said you were on the pill.”
“I lied.”
He looked at her wildly, his features frozen in shock as he fell into the seat next to her.
“Why?”
“I’m sorry. I never thought-” she halted, her voice breaking. “I never thought it would mean more to you than a one night stand.”
“How could you possibly believe that? What we had…what we still have was never about fucking,” he said with bitterness.
“How was I supposed to know that?” She argued, desperate. “I gave myself to you over and over again and you treated me worse than the whores you banged on Bart’s desk.”
“So we're back to this, ” he ranted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I was a mess. I needed time. Forgive me for not declaring my love to you at my father’s funeral. If you had just waited I would have come around and given you everything. I even would have married you in that stupid fairy-tale wedding you always wanted!”
“I needed you then Chuck. I couldn’t wait! You destroyed me and then watched oblivious while my bones were picked bare.”
Chuck laid his head wearily in his hands, this unexpected turn of events making his head spin. Within seconds his decision was made.
“This doesn’t change anything. We’ll need to get married faster then I originally planned. We don’t want the Bass heir born out of wedlock. With me as a father the kid will be called a bastard often enough, he won’t need people being able to use the insult legitimately. You probably won’t get that big white wedding you wanted, not that you were fooling anybody with that anyway,” he muttered sarcastically.
“No,” she stated simply.
“What do you mean ‘no’? You just told me you’re pregnant with my child. That means you need to get divorced now so that we can get married and get to work making future Bass’ ASAP.” He said mockingly, unsuccessful at masking the wistful yearning in his voice.
“This baby, it can’t ever be yours.”
“What the hell Blair? What do you mean it can’t be mine?” He asked, misunderstanding. “We fucked, quite magnificently, may I add, without any protection. Behold; it’s two months later and you’re puking your brains out. Somehow I don’t think Cedric figures into this much at all. Especially since, according to you, he knew about our little indiscretion.
She shook her head, fingertips massaging her aching temples, searching for the right words.
“Biologically it’s your child, but in every other way it’s Cedric’s.”
“No, Blair. There is nothing about our child that has anything to do with him,” Chuck said coldly.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I never would have gone to see you that night in Paris without Cedric’s urging. There would be no pregnancy, no child.”
He looked at her dumfounded. He couldn’t contemplate, couldn’t even imagine how any man, especially one so devoted to Blair, could pimp his wife out to an old boyfriend. “Does he hurt you Blair? I swear if he has ever done this before he will wish he was dead.
“God, no,” she said tartly, all but rolling her eyes. “There isn’t a malicious bone in Cedric’s body. He isn’t like us Chuck.”
Chucks features, drawn tight, relaxed with relief like a taunt rubber band that’s been sliced. “Well, then he won’t mind divorcing you.”
“That will never happen. He loves this child and me. More than his life.”
“Well, he’s going to have to let you go. This isn’t some wacky movie or TV show, Two Men a Lady and a Baby. I’m not sharing you and I’m certainly not sharing our child,” he threatened.
“’I’m not something you get to have just because you got me pregnant. This baby isn’t a pawn you can use to get what you want. Being an unwitting sperm donor does not grant you automatic parenting rights.” She halted, looking at him with sadness. “If I hadn’t come to you that night you would still be living your life as if I was a bad memory. The only reason you want to marry me and have this child so much is because you always want what you can’t have. If I had pursued you, fallen easily back into your arms, you would have been bored within days.”
“No, that isn’t true,” he said harshly, shaking his head.
“Do you really believe that? Do the right thing for this baby and me and walk away.”
Chuck looked at her incredulous, shaken. “I can’t.“
She gathered her courage and spreading it around her like a cloak she played one of her last remaining cards.
“Cedric is dying,” she said with simple directness. The sentence spoken aloud for the first time, finally acknowledged, released something buried deep inside her.
“We're all dying,” he said cruelly, regretting it the moment the words tumbled from his lips.
She looked at him, stifling a sob, her eyes dilated into murky black pools. Finally accepting the truth that Cedric was dying, her thoughts thickened like hot molasses left to cool. The floodgates opened, her tears falling fast and furious, stinging her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Blair.”
It wasn’t a lie because in a way he was sorry. He was sorry to see her in such pain. Her suffering was always harder to bear, more so then his own. Maybe that was why he stayed away from her all those years ago when she needed him. He was in such a dark place then that being there for her, witnessing her pain, would have brought him to the brink; one he might never have returned from. He had done what was best for both of them and left her. She didn’t understand, but he was protecting her from the darkness that surrounded him until he was ready to return and be the man she needed. In sickening irony he later realized it was his love for her, his desire to protect her that caused her to leave him and marry another man.
He sat next to her, his thigh pressing against her as he took her cold hand in his, trying to soothe her. For once she welcomed the intrusion, grasping at the comfort he offered as her weeping turned to heart wrenching snobs. Chuck, his heart breaking at her misery, took a calculated risk and gathered her in his arms. She nestled into his neck, cocooning herself in his warmth, her tears drenching the collar of his shirt. She only cried harder when he stroked her back, his hand massaging and smoothing the muscles in her back as he whispered nonsensical endearments in her ear. Anything to comfort her, get his Blair back. He couldn’t have her continue like this, it wasn’t good for her or the baby. Blair needed him and he had learned his lesson. No longer would he run from her pain and suffering like he did after his father died. She was going to need him now, their baby was going to need him and he was not going anywhere.
He waited for her shoulders to stop shaking and the ragged sobs to subside to quiet breaths, before he asked the one question that plagued him.
“Why did you come to me that night in Paris?”
She pulled from his embrace, inching away from him. With careful deliberation she swept away her tears with the sides of her palms.
“We tried everything to get pregnant. We spent a fortune on infertility treatments, went to every clinic in Europe, tried every radical procedure, but Cedric’s cancer rendered him practically infertile. When we found out it was back it became even more imperative that we have a child. Cedric is the last remaining Errol and without a child, an heir, the line dies with him. The title would have become extinct and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let five hundred years of the Errol Earldom die because I couldn’t get pregnant. I looked into adoption, but Cedric refused to consider it. He didn’t care so much about his blood being carried on, but he was adamant that the child be mine.” Her voice quieted, growing softer with every word. “I thought about using a donor, but I couldn’t imagine being pregnant and carrying a child whose father I didn’t love.”
He would have doubted he ever heard those last words if he hadn’t been looking right at her when they escaped her lips. If he had looked away from her for even a second he would have missed them.
“So I was nothing more then a pawn in your game,” he said hoarsely. He was furious, but he realized there was too much at stake now, Blair needed him to be calm.
Once more he reached out for her, taking her hand in his and not allowing her to shrink away.
“This baby is Cedric’s only chance for a family and his legacy. “
“How conveniently you both seem to forget that I’m the father,” Chuck said frustrated.
“Give us a year, eighteen months at the most, to be a family.. It won’t be long. Let Cedric have his dying wish. Then I promise you can have whatever relationship you want with your child. I won’t stand in your way,” she pleaded, fresh tears brimming in her red-rimmed eyes.
“What you’re asking of me is impossible. I can’t just step aside and pretend this baby is his. It’s ours, Blair. We’re having a baby,” he said with awe. “I empathize with Cedric’s plight, but I can’t allow you to take what is mine and give it to him. I’m willing to let him be a part of our lives and the baby’s as long as he agrees to a speedy divorce.” He reached out and tenderly caught an escaping tear with the pad of this thumb.
She shoved his hand away. “No! You don’t get a say in this. This is my decision.”
Under normal circumstances he would be raging, attacking all her weaknesses to get her to submit to his will. This time he knew he could afford to be generous. He was going to take another direction, choose a different avenue to get what he wanted. It was only a matter of time before she realized the ludicrousness of having another man raise their child, especially a dying one. Granted he felt bad for the man, but in a way he considered it a blessing. This gave legitimacy to his pursuit of Blair. Nobody could condemn him for wanting to marry the mother of his child, even if it meant breaking up a marriage to do so.
He understood Blair felt something for her husband, but with his sickness and their failure at getting pregnant, the marriage couldn’t have ever been easy or particularly happy. She was going to need him with her pregnancy and her husband dying and he was going to give her the support that she needed. He would be there picking up all the pieces while dropping subtle hints in her ear, seducing her to his way of thinking. He could wait. Even if she didn’t marry him today all that mattered was that they be married before the baby was born.
“Blair-“
Hysterical she cracked like brittle glass. “No! You owe me and you certainly owe him!
“What are you talking about?” He asked, puzzled.
“Think of this as a replacement for the one I lost, the one that he was going to raise for you.” She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Her secret sorrow and shame tumbled out of her, free at last.
He paled, shaking his head slowly. “No. It isn’t possible. We never-“
“You don’t even remember do you?” she laughed, the sound heart wrenching and bitter. “The night of my mother’s wedding, after your father’s funeral. You came to me and fell asleep in my arms. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was waking up to you thrusting between my legs. When I woke again all there was left of you was a note.”
“I thought it was a dream,” he said in a daze.
“It wasn’t. At least it wasn’t for me when five weeks later I was puking my guts out. This time when I took the test it was positive.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How could I? You came back from Bangkok high on opium and acting like a sex addict. You ignored me. Acted like you hated me. How was I supposed to tell you that you were about to become a teen pregnancy statistic?”
“You should have told me I would-“
“You would have what?” She interrupted, disdainfully. “Confessed you were in love with a high-class prostitute and then offered to drive me to an abortion clinic? Or maybe you would have decided to play at being a dad. Snorting lines of coke in between changing diapers.”
“So you left, ran away!”
“I gave my child, our child, a chance for a life free from scandal. A life without an addict for a father.”
He could finally see all the pieces, the last one sliding into place like an ornate lacquer Chinese puzzle box. “You went to stay at you father’s villa and there you met Cedric?”
“Yes. I don’t know how and I will never understand it, but he saw me, the real me, and he loved me anyway.
“It didn’t bother him you were pregnant with my child?” He asked with disbelief.
“No, because he loved me and more then anything he loved the fact that he was going to be a father. He offered me the moon and I accepted; marriage on my terms and he would claim the baby as his. All I had to do was be with him, let him love me.”
“What happened?” He asked, his voice cracking in despair. He already knew how the story would end.
“The pregnancy was difficult. I’m not sure if it was the stress, the eating disorder or just morning sickness but I couldn’t stop throwing up. I lost weight and was hospitalized and hooked to an IV, but nothing worked. The baby stopped thriving and one day it was gone,” she said stoically, without emotion. She had learned over the years when speaking of this time, to pretend like it happened outside of herself. Treating it clinically, as something that was separate was the only way she could bear the never-ending grief.
“I’m so sorry Blair. If I had known, I swear, I would have done things differently. The hurtful things I said, the whores, drugs it was all because I loved you. I couldn’t bear to drag you into the fuck up that was my life, so I did the only I could to protect you. I made sure you would want nothing to do with me. You need to know that I would give anything to go back in time, be there for you,“ he pleaded brokenly.
“If that’s true then give Cedric his dying wish,” she begged. “Give us back the child we lost. Let Cedric spend the last of his days knowing he has an heir, a living descendent. “
“It’s not that simple.”
“It can be,” she coaxed.
“No, Blair.” He looked at her with sympathy. “I love you, this is our baby and I won’t ever leave you again,” he promised.
She cried out in frustration, blindly rushing past him as she ran out of the conservatory. He let her go. A lifetime’s worth of caution winning the battle over his deep possessiveness. Too much blood had been shed here today and they both needed time. He needed to regroup, think of a plan. He knew he could win. He just needed to reset the board, get his game pieces in all the right positions so that he could put in move the play that would win it all.