February 1912

“The engagement is announced between the Right Hon. Cooper, Viscount Anderson, heir apparent of the Earl and Countess of Westerville, and Miss Katherine Lily Beaumont, eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Beaumont of Buffalo, New York.”

The one with the chin read aloud from the newspaper in his hands. He leaned against the right side of the long table in the servants’ hall, footman’s livery looking fancy and expensive, as usual. It consisted of a black coat-tail suit over a white high-collared shirt and striped dark blue vest. He wore with it a white bow tie that was a little loose. There was a stray thread on his shoulder that someone should probably point out too. Three maids, all wearing different outfits, were seated at the table with Sebastian, the hallboy, who was expected to wear whatever shabby inexpensive clothes he could find. A few other servants were already leaving the room.

The footman folded the paper and placed it down on the table behind him. “Well it’s a good thing that they’ve finally settled on the matter,” he said. “Perhaps now we’ll be able to hire a bit more help.”

A housemaid in a dull grey-blue dress and white smock was seated to the footman’s right. She nodded, wearing a little smile on her round face. “Mr. Ellis told me that his lordship asked Mr. Wes to hire some more servants last week.” She finished the last of her tea and tied her straight black hair into a bun.

“I hope you’re right Tina. It’s been difficult performing both footmen’s duties since Matthew left.” The chin scratched at his dimple.

“AND what’s going on in here?” The gathered servants jumped at a loud voice from the doorway. Everyone rose quickly to their feet as a thin pompous man in a black three-piece gentleman’s suit entered the room. Sebastian pretended to make for the stairs in the hallway but actually lingered in the doorframe, just out of view. He deserved a longer break; he worked harder than the rest of them after all, and he was getting really sick of scrubbing out chamberpots this morning.

“Sorry sir, we were just looking at the paper,” the footman replied.

“Your tea break should be over now, William, ladies. Finish quickly and get back to work.” Mr. Wes adjusted the long black tie around his neck.

“Is it true, Mr. Wes? About the new hires?” The maid’s ridiculously large eyes opened even wider with the question. She wore an all black dress that contrasted harshly with her pale skin. It was softened only by the white lacy collar and matching sleeve cuffs.

“Yes Miss Pillsbury, it is true. I was going to make a proper announcement at supper this evening. They will be arriving in a few days.”

Sugar, the third maid in the room, grabbed a grey apron off the back of a chair and tied it around the waist of her pink and white striped dress. “How exciting,” she said.

“Yes. Very exciting.” If Mr. Wes were a less austere man, one might have expected him to roll his eyes. “Now if you don’t mind, tea time is over. Back to work everyone.”

With that the servants dispersed from the room. Sebastian plodded his way back to the servants’ quarters to continue cleaning up their filth.

~

It was a brisk morning, but warmer than it had been since the winter. The sun made fruitless attempts to cast its light on the ground. Thick clouds were urged along in front of it by a breeze in the air. Meanwhile, two young men in matching black uniforms rode to the country house on the backs of brown horses.

“Nice attempt Blaine. But it seems I won again.” The taller of the two men lifted his top hat and brushed some stray hair away from his face.

“I don’t recall agreeing to a race Cooper.” Blaine dismounted with a loud huff of breath. “I only recall you shouting race once you were already in front of me.”

“Now, now. Don’t be bitter.” Cooper flashed a charming smile at Blaine. “If you were only willing to push your mount a little harder once in a while you could ride as well as I do.” Cooper hopped down to his feet and left his horse to the groom standing nearby.

Blaine frowned at the criticism but refrained from speaking back. He handed the reigns over and followed Cooper to the front door of the house. They were greeted by the butler who nodded his head towards them.

“Hello Wes. How is everything today?” Blaine asked.

“Quite well, thank you sir. I thought I should inform Lord Westerville that the new footman has arrived but his lordship does not appear to be in the house.”

“He is probably out walking the dog.” Blaine glanced out toward the vast grounds of the estate. “I’ll be sure to tell father if I see him.”

“Thank you Mr. Blaine.”

“Wes, I should like to change and bathe before lunch time,” Cooper said. “If you don’t mind coming up to assist with my uniform.” Cooper pulled off his hat as he walked in through the front door.

“Of course, my lord.” Wes lingered for a moment. “Would you like me to call William to assist you, Mr. Blaine?”

“No thank you Wes. I will ring if I need him.”

“Very good sir.” Wes nodded and entered the house to follow Cooper.

Blaine made a motion for the the door but stopped. He turned and saw his father walking around from the side of the house toward the main path that lead to the front gate. Blaine trotted quickly toward him, falling into step alongside the Springer Spaniel at his father’s feet.

“Hello, father.”

“Blaine, you know you really should change after riding.” Lord Westerville was taller than Blaine. They shared the amber colour of their eyes, but overall Cooper bore a closer resemblance to their father. Lord Westerville was about the same height as Cooper, with a similar face but a much more stern disposition. His once dark hair was greying now, and he styled himself with a thick moustache and beard, even though such facial hair had fallen out of fashion some time ago. He had a lacquered mahogany walking cane in hand.

“Of course sir. My apologies for appearing so unkempt.” Blaine bowed his head down. “I was informed by Wes that a new footman arrived today.” He frowned at his feet. “I wasn’t aware that we were hiring another footman.”

“Well you aren’t expecting me to inform you of my every decision, are you son?” Lord Westerville raised his eyebrows at Blaine and continued walking away from the house.

“I only thought, given the circumstances with Dalton…” Blaine’s voice trailed off.

“By circumstances, I hope you are referring to your brother’s upcoming marriage. Because you know it is not your place to be discussing matters of the estate Blaine. That is the duty of the heir to worry about.”

“Of course, father.” Blaine nodded his head.

“And in regards to that, you know that your brother will be bringing a wife and eventually children to Dalton. We will be requiring more servants to manage the house. And now that the marriage is final I see no reason to wait to hire them,” Lord Westerville concluded brusquely.

“But could we not have managed with just the new maids for now?” Blaine was not wholly comfortable about questioning his father’s actions, but the cost of a male servant seemed an unnecessary and premature expense. “Surely Wes could have promoted William to first footman? It seems frivolous to be hiring another male servant.”

“William, must be around 40. He’s far too old for the position.” Lord Westerville halted in his walking as the dog wandered away to sniff at a particularly interesting bush. “Footman should always come in pairs and it would reflect poorly on the family should any guests see that we can not afford reasonably aged servants.” The dog returned to the men’s feet and they continued along their current path.

Blaine was careful to school his tone so as not to sound too insolent. He was hoping for inquisitive. “I don’t see why it should be of concern to us what guests might think of our servants. Is it not enough that the ones we have perform their duties satisfactorily?”

Lord Westerville released a deep breath through his nose and furrowed his brow for a moment. “Did you know that Duke Carmel recently hired a second valet to accommodate his son?”

Blaine frowned at the question. He was troubled to piece together how this was related to the conversation at hand.

Lord Westerville shook his head and continued. “Perhaps it is my fault for having sent you to your mother’s sister’s home for schooling. You were unable to receive a proper upper-class English education. And thus you never really learned the importance of creating the right impression of one’s home.”

“But what does that have to do with Duke Carmel?”

“You know that those in our circle are very invested in the affairs of others. If word got out that Dalton Abbey was unable to afford even a second footman, well, I should say people might think us to be living in meagre circumstances. And that is the last impression I should want of our family.” Lord Westerville turned away from Blaine then and focused more intently on the path he continued to walk.

“Of course father.” Blaine still wasn’t completely satisfied, but he knew that the argument was over. “I shall see you at luncheon then.” He turned and walked back toward the house, now eager to change out of his dishevelled riding clothes.

~

“If I could have everyone’s attention for a moment, please.” Mr. Wes’s voice cut through the servants’ hall. There was the tinkling sound of forks and knives being placed back onto plates as quiet settled on the room. All attention turned to the head of the table. Mr. Wes, still seated, cleared his throat. “As some of you may be aware, we have a new first footman, Kurt Hummel.” He gestured to Kurt who was seated next to the valet on the butler’s right. Kurt bowed his head and mouthed a polite thank you. “And for those who have asked,” Mr. Wes continued, “Kurt will be the last of the new employees at Dalton. For now, anyways.” Mr. Wes returned to the meal in front of him and the other servants followed suit. The gentle noise of cutlery scraping on dinnerware took over once again. Mr. Wes was not particularly strict about noise, and so he usually permitted quiet conversation during dinner.

“So Kurt, where did you work before coming to Dalton?” Miss Pillsbury sat across from Kurt, next to the Housekeeper on Mr. Wes’s left side. Next to Miss Pillsbury sat Tina, a sweet woman that he had briefly spoken to earlier. Tina listened in, popping her head up at the question.

Kurt was slightly taken aback at the sudden interest shown in his person. He looked back and forth between each women’s face before answering cautiously. “I was valet to the Earl of Figsworth at Mckinley Hall.”

“So then you’ve worked in a large country house before. That is fortunate.” Miss Pillsbury was pushing her fork around her plate as she spoke. Kurt hadn’t thought anything of it before, but now he saw that she seemed to be separating each item of food into distinct little groups before eating anything. After grouping her peas satisfactorily and wiping down her fork with a napkin, she proceeded with her next question. “Might I ask why you left?”

“Lord Figsworth was looking to rearrange his staff and I offered to leave if I could find somewhere else to work.” Kurt paused a moment to think about how much he should say. His previous master was a kind one, if not unfortunately foolish. As such there were certain matters about the Earl that he hoped to keep secret, out of respect. “I had served his lordship’s family since I was a hallboy. It was…” he searched for a way to describe it. “Mckinley was satisfactory to me as a place to learn the art of service, but I never felt entirely at home there.”

“Whatever do you mean by ‘rearrange his staff’?” Tina eyed Kurt with a shrewd expression.

It seemed that despite his efforts, Tina had fixed in on the detail Kurt was most hoping to avoid. “I don’t mean to imply anything by it. Lord Figsworth decided that he would be just as comfortable with his butler serving as valet and I was not opposed to a change of environment.”

“So, what you’re trying not to say is that he could no longer afford a personal valet?” Tina smiled mischievously.

Kurt sighed.

“I am sorry,” Tina said. And from her genuine tone Kurt couldn’t help but forgive her. “I didn’t mean to pry it out of you like that.” She leaned in conspiratorially and dropped her voice a little. “You should know that money has lately been a concern for many of the families that his lordship is acquainted with.”

“Yes, but thankfully, it is not something Dalton will have to worry about.” The housekeeper seemed to have lost her patience with the servants’ gossip. Kurt had been introduced to Mrs. Sylvester earlier in the day. She was a very tall woman, with blonde hair that was pulled into a tight updo. Her face seemed to be fixed with a chronic frown and he had heard from Tina that she could be rather strict.

Kurt motioned for his drink to be refilled by the hallboy waiting on the table. The boy, probably around 16, poured the tea gently, but when Kurt reached for the cup, he felt a sharp sting and retracted quickly. The hallboy had apparently dripped a few spots of steaming tea on Kurt’s hand.

“My deepest apologies.” The boy bowed and retreated from the table.

Kurt raised an eyebrow but said nothing of the behaviour. He dabbed at the back of his hand with his napkin. Thankfully the damage seemed only superficial.

~

After the servants’ dinner was finished, it was the duty of the hallboy and the kitchen maids to clear the table.

“Hey, Sugar, did you see the new one?” Sebastian asked after following her into the scullery. A couple of other maids scurried around but Sebastian didn’t pay attention to them.

“Hmm? Oh you mean the footman? He’s quite handsome isn’t he?” Sugar blinked her beady little eyes and placed a stack of dirty plates into the hot sink.

The hallboy emitted a contemptuous snort. “I don’t think ‘handsome’ is the word you should be using. ‘Dainty,’ was what I would have chosen. ‘Pretty’ perhaps. But hardly ‘handsome’ the way a footman ought to be.”

“Poor Sebastian. You’re just jealous that Mr. Wes dismissed your application.” Sugar was using that irritating baby voice that Sebastian hated. “Also, you know boys aren’t supposed to be in the scullery.”

He ignored the last comment. “You and I both know that I am more qualified for the position. I’ve worked in this house for over a year. I know the family better.” Sebastian leaned against the counter, next to the sink that Sugar was washing in. He flinched his arm a little when some of the dirty water splashed up.

“But you’ve never actually spoken to the family,” Sugar said. “Neither of us has.” He opened his mouth to argue but then thought better of it. Sugar continued. “I’m not sure I’ve ever even seen her ladyship. Only her pretty dresses when Miss Pillsbury is darning them.”

Sebastian pouted a little. “I’m taller than him.”

“Of course. And if the world were fair, I would be a Duchess and you would be my butler and we’d live in a mansion and get to eat off the fine china, instead of washing them.” The dirty servants’ dishes clinked against each other in the sink. Sebastian supposed that there were some foul things that he was supposed to be cleaning too, but they could wait.

“Why would I be your butler?” Sebastian asked with offence. “If anything, you would be my housekeeper. And I’d have Mr. Blaine cleaning my boots every morning, instead of the other way around.” He said bitterly.

Sugar stuck her tongue out at him and continued with her own little daydream. “I would have the cook make me all the pastries and cakes and pies that I wanted.”

“I’d have Mr. Blaine wait on me at the table and serve me my tea. And he would have to speak politely and say ‘Yes Lord Smythe’ and bow to me.”

Sebastian stared blankly in front of him while Sugar rattled off a few more details of her fantasy. So maybe becoming a Lord was a little unlikely. But he knew that there was no way he was going to keep cleaning chamberpots forever.

~

It was mid-afternoon and Blaine was feeling bloated from indulging too much at luncheon. His father had insisted that Mrs. Beiste cook extra extravagant meals for today, in celebration of the official engagement announcement. Cooper’s fiance was staying at the house and Blaine supposed his father was still trying to keep her impressed.

Dalton’s corridors were quiet but for a light pattering against the windows from outside. The clouds from the morning had given way to rain and so Blaine’s intentions to go for a walk were dashed. He made his way to the library, hoping to find a book he had not previously read and found Cooper already seated in one of the cushioned chairs. Blaine made an attempt to inspect the shelves before giving up and taking a seat next to Cooper, empty-handed.

“Cooper?” Blaine spoke quietly, trying not to be too much of a disturbance.

“Yes, little brother?” Cooper lifted his chin as if to face Blaine, but his eyes were still cast down toward the pages.

Blaine took that as an invitation to continue. “Miss Katherine is very nice.”

Cooper lifted his eyes from his book and wore a small smirk. “Thank you, Blaine, I happen to think so too.”

“Do you not think that perhaps…” Blaine hesitated. He didn’t want to offend his brother, but the issue had been nagging at him for a while now. “Do you not think it unfair to marry Miss Katherine so quickly?” Cooper furrowed his brows so Blaine decided to clarify. “Simply because she is an heiress?”

Surprisingly, Cooper laughed. A small laugh, perhaps more of a chuckle, but still not what Blaine had anticipated.

“Oh goodness. I can assure you, that is not the case. Not entirely, anyways.” Cooper finally bookmarked his novel and placed it on the table beside him. “Yes, I will concede that Katherine’s wealth is an awful convenience. But I promise you I do love her.”

“But you’ve only known her for a few months. How can you be so certain you want to marry her?”

“You have not yet had a sweetheart of your own, so perhaps you wouldn’t understand the feeling.” Cooper leaned closer to Blaine, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair. “But when you are in love, you know it in your gut and you feel it deep down in your bones.”

Blaine was troubled by the first comment. It was true that he had yet to find a woman, any woman, that he had ever even considered wanting to marry. Or kiss. Or court for an extended length of time. Cooper, on the other hand, had spent his youth dallying with as many ladies and debutantes as he could set his eyes on. But Blaine assumed that was just a matter of difference between the two brothers. One of many.

He had no reason not to believe that Cooper and Miss Katherine were truly in love. The deep down happiness that Cooper spoke of was often evident in their faces and interactions. But it had taken Blaine a while to recognize it as such. It was a feeling Blaine didn’t know he would ever be able to relate to. “How do you do that? How do you find someone?”

“Ah. Well that’s a good question Blaine.” Cooper sat up straight in his seat and took on an instructional air. “The key to winning over anyone, be they a romantic or platonic interest is to be captivating. You want to draw their attention away from anyone else in the room. So conversation is key. Always be up to date with current events. And try and repeat any speculation or gossip you might hear. People like to be reminded of popular opinion. But don’t ever talk about yourself or your personal life because that’s boring. And if your audience does start to yawn, or their eyes wander, then you just need to speak louder! That always calls back someone’s attention.”

Blaine nodded.

“And vocabulary. A big vocabulary will impress anybody. Always aim for three syllables or more. Superfluous. Ostentatious. Perspicality!”

“I don’t think that last one’s a word, Coop.”

“It doesn’t matter! What matters is that you believe it! When you say something with enough conviction it becomes real. Words are… words are the language of the soul! And syllables are the heart of those words. Using enough of them will show people that what you’re saying comes from right here.” Cooper pointed to his own chest.

“I don’t know if that would work for me…” Blaine never really enjoyed forced conversations.

Cooper eyed him contemplatively. “You are only 22, little brother. When I was your age I could not have imagined having the desire to spend my life with only one woman. But I am older and more mature. And it is inevitable that I will settle down with a family one day, so why not now? One day you too will find the right person. It is only a matter of patience.” Cooper clapped Blaine’s shoulder and picked up his book from the table.

Blaine trusted his brother’s word on matters of the heart. After all, he knew of no one with more experience with women than Cooper. And so Blaine believed when Cooper said that it would only be a matter of time. It would just require a bit of searching, he supposed, to finally understand love the way Cooper does.

Blaine exited the library with no destination in mind. As he passed by the entrance hall he saw the back of an unfamiliar figure standing near the front door. Blaine assumed it must be the new footman, and so he ventured forward to introduce himself. Even if he disagreed with his father’s decision to employ more servants, it would hold no purpose to hold it against those who were hired.

“Good day!”

The servant started and Blaine felt foolish for accidentally sneaking up on him. The young man had apparently been observing a statue of in the entrance hall. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“My apologies, my lord. I did not realize you were in the room.” The servant replied with a high, soft voice that was certainly unique.

And now that the man faced him, Blaine was astonished by his appearance as well. He was unlike anyone Blaine had seen before. A little taller, around the same age, and with the most delicate features: pale skin; full lips; clear, light eyes; and yet a regal tilt to his chin. Blaine felt almost compelled to bow his head.

Blaine stumbled on his tongue for a moment before registering what the servant had said. “Oh, no, you are mistaken. My brother is Lord Anderson. I am the younger son. You may call me Blaine.”

“Of course, my apologies once again, Mr. Blaine.” His voice sounded a little higher than before. He stood very upright, with both hands behind his back.

Now that Blaine was no longer focused on the man’s face, he could see the slightest nervous tremor to his breathing. “And what shall I call you?”

“My name is Kurt, sir.” Kurt bowed his head respectfully.

“Well Kurt, it’s nice to meet you. I hope you will learn to think of Dalton as your home.”

“Yes, Mr. Blaine.” Kurt looked around anxiously. “I was— I was only standing here to ensure the carpet was smoothed out. I was assisting the maids earlier to lay it back onto the stairs.”

The poor man looked terrified. But Blaine was not the butler, and he was not here to admonish Kurt for taking a short break from his job. Blaine considered leaving the servant be and continuing on his walk through the house. But he had been having a rather dull day, and it had been so long since he’d met someone new. Someone who wasn’t an old friend of his father’s, or the daughter of a friend of his father’s, or a distant cousin of some sort. “Were you admiring the artwork?” he asked, stepping toward the marble sculpture at the foot of the grand staircase.

It was a vase-like marble carving, decorated with gold leaf, placed atop a short Corinthian column. Winged babies flew all around the top. There was an elaborate vine of gold flowers strung between the flying babies, and various gold ribbons strategically placed so as to cover up anything indecent. The entire piece was about four feet tall.

“Oh, yes, of course.” Kurt blushed and stammered slightly. Blaine thought it quite endearing. “It’s a very… that is I thought the figures were..”

“It’s hideous isn’t it?”

Kurt exhaled with a coy little smile. “Garish, was the term I was searching for.”

“Yes, very.” Blaine chuckled. “’A Baroque masterpiece’ my mother called it. She has a fondness for putti. Finds them cute.”

A clock in the entrance hall chimed and Kurt swivelled to look at the time.

“I must be going, Mr. Blaine, to prepare for dinner. If you’ll pardon my leave.” Blaine nodded his permission. Kurt bowed and walked elegantly out of the room, with long, deliberate strides. He was probably off to help Cooper dress for dinner, a task Wes had been performing in absence of a first footman.

Blaine would need some time to get ready for dinner as well. He made his way up the grand staircase toward his bedroom. William would probably be waiting there with his clothes laid out already. He hadn’t seen his father since their discussion that morning, but he would get to speak with him at dinner. He planned to apologize for their earlier argument. Perhaps a few new servants would not be so unwelcome after all.