March 1912

A dark blue automobile drove up towards the main door of Dalton Abbey. The servants stood all in a line along the right side of the pathway to the main door, while Lord Westerville and his family walked outside to line the left side of the path. Blaine stood with his mother next to him in her favourite azure dress. She had told Blaine once that she liked how it brought out the blue in her eyes. Her dark curls were pulled up on top of her head and adorned with a silver hairpin. Cooper was placed between Blaine and their father, standing alone since his fiance was staying at her grandparents' townhouse in the city.

The automobile stopped in front of the greeting party. A footman stepped out of the front of the car and began unloading the luggage strapped to the back of the coach. William opened the door facing the house and a middle-aged man stepped out, followed by a young woman in a bright red coat.

Blaine's father walked up to greet the two of them formally and exchange the customary pleasantries. Meanwhile, Blaine bounced on the balls of his feet with anticipation. After the two men nodded at each other, Blaine finally walked toward the young woman and they clasped each others' hands. “Rachel, it's so good to see you!”

Rachel kissed the air by each of Blaine's cheeks. “Blaine, darling! It feels like it's been so long since we were last here! I must tell you about my adventures in America! But first, papa could use some rest after the journey.”

Blaine released Rachel's hands and stepped towards her father. He was a tall, slender man with a tan complexion and grey hair hidden under a black bowler hat. He wore a purple silk ascot and a pair of pince-nez attached to a chain that looped back to his ear. Blaine shook his hand. “Hello Duke. I hope you enjoyed your travels.”

“Yes, thank you Mr. Anderson. It is nice to see that everyone is well.” The Duke turned to Cooper. “And Lord Anderson, we saw the announcement in the paper. You have our congratulations!” The Duke swept off his hat and nodded his head.

“Yes, our utmost congratulations Cooper!” Rachel was a closer friend to Blaine, but she had insisted on being on a first name basis with both boys since they first met as children.

Cooper clasped Rachel's proffered hand. “Thank you. You are both, of course, most welcome to the wedding once we have a date set.”

“Please Duke, Lady Rachel, come inside.” Blaine's mother gestured toward the door and the party made their way into the entrance hall.

The servants, as was customary, stood still and would wait for the front walkway to empty before reentering the house through the servants' door in the back.

~

Rachel and Blaine sat together on the piano bench in the drawing room. Rachel had insisted that the first thing they should do is prepare a performance for after dinner tonight. And so they were rehearsing in order to familiarize themselves with each others' voices again. After all, it had been at least a few months since they last saw one another and who knows how much their vocal cords may have developed in that time. Rachel had brought along some newly acquired sheet music and placed a few pieces on the piano stand. Blaine sat quietly and watched, with an amused smile and a slight crinkle to his eyes, while she went through her vocal warm-ups.

Suddenly, she closed her mouth and turned to face him. “Blaine, you should be warming up with me! I won't have either of us sounding out of tune.”

Blaine sighed. She was always rather serious when it came to performing. “There's no one listening right now Rachel. All of the adults are in the billiard room.” Her eyes narrowed to form a glare and Blaine added, “But I promise I will warm up before our actual performance.”

“It does not matter if no one is listening. There is never an excuse for mediocrity!” Rachel flourished her arms exaggeratedly as she spoke, nearly smacking Blaine in the face. “The ants on the windowsill can be our audience. Or the servants in the stairwell.” She waved a hand behind them.

Blaine turned and saw that the servants' door was ajar, with a little huddle of maids standing just on the other side. After making eye contact, one of them uttered a quiet “Eep!” noise and the door swung shut. Blaine chuckled a little and finally relented. He might as well join Rachel with her vocal runs if the matter was causing such distress.

~

Kurt stood in the landing with Tina, Miss Pillsbury, and Mercy, a housemaid that was hired around the time he was. Mercy was a plump young woman, whose real name Kurt thought to be refreshingly exotic. However, her ladyship had thought “Mercedes” too foreign to remember and so renamed her Mercy. Mercedes did not seem to mind since 'Mercy' at least sounded similar. As she told Kurt, the previous house she served had taken to naming all of the housemaids 'Abigail,' which lead to occasional confusion.

The singing voices of Lady Rachel and Mr. Blaine filtered dully through the closed drawing room door. Underneath their vocal runs, the piano could be heard trickling through an accompanying warm-up scale.

“Mr. Blaine has such a beautiful voice. You must hear him sing properly.” Tina whispered to the group. They had all agreed to continue listening at the door, even after being caught. Tina and Miss Pillsbury had insisted on it.

Miss Pillsbury nodded her head in agreement. “I have had a few occasions to overhear them singing together when she visits. Lady Rachel's voice is lovely, but Mr. Blaine is also very talented.”

“And he's handsome too,” Mercy added. Tina giggled and shoved at Mercy's shoulder playfully.

Lady Rachel and Mr. Blaine seemed to have finished their warm-ups and were discussing something inaudibly. The piano continued wandering through notes and chords, not intent on playing anything in particular. Kurt placed a hand on the door, wishing to prop it open again so as to hear better. However, before he had the chance to nudge it, the clack of heels approached and the servants all hushed and stilled.

“My, my, this door must be incredibly dirty, to have so many people cleaning it.” Mrs. Sylvester, towered above the four servants with a scowl on her face. “Or perhaps you were all meeting to discuss who would possibly hire a group of dismissed servants that shun their duties?”

“No, Mrs. Sylvester. Sorry, Mrs. Sylvester.” Tina bowed her head and bustled up the servants' staircase. Mercy followed up the stairs while Miss Pillsbury headed down. Kurt remained stuck to his spot, eyes wide, arms straight and squeezed to his sides.

“Well Alabaster?” Mrs. Sylvester sneered at him.

Kurt blinked. “Er, my name is Kurt, ma'am.”

“I wasn't asking for your name Blanche. Don't you have some work to be doing?”

“Well, no actually.” She looked offended at Kurt's response so he clarified, “It's my free hour, Mrs. Sylvester.”

“You still shouldn't be loitering in the stairwell. You might get in the way.” She made a shoo-ing motion with her hand, as if he were an annoying fly she wished to swat away.

Kurt glanced around his shoulder to the closed door. Lady Rachel was singing something slow, accompanied by the piano. Miss Pillsbury was right about her having a beautiful voice. However, Mr. Blaine was not to be heard. Kurt turned back to see Mrs. Sylvester still staring at him and jumped a little. “Of course, Mrs. Sylvester.” He had yet to be on the receiving end of Mrs. Sylvester's wrath, but it's reputation was known to him, and he didn't wish to incite it. Kurt started walking down the stairs back to the servants hall and sighed with a tinge of disappointment. Maybe he'd be able to hear Mr. Blaine's voice another day.

~

“Sugar! Check on the chicken, it needs basting!” The young kitchen maid hurried over to an oven and opened it. “Not that one! The other oven! And William, bring this tray up, it doesn't need to be here.” Mrs. Beiste was shouting orders left and right. The kitchen was frantic, maids bustling to and fro in order to get all the food prepared in time. Dalton was hosting guests, a Duke, no less, and so dinner had to be perfect. “This plate's done, bring it up!”

Kurt swooped around Mrs. Beiste and grabbed a vegetable dish with an elaborate arrangement of asparagus and cauliflower. He hurried up the steps and into the dining room where he caught up with William.

“I hope you are not being worn out by our Mrs. Beiste.” William was wearing his usual crooked grin. “She can be quite the General when it's required.”

“I will say the pace is quite a bit more hectic than I can remember it ever being at Mckinley, but Lord Figsworth was never much one for guests.”

“I'm sure you'll get used to it soon enough, and I'm always here for advice should you need it.” William headed back downstairs and Kurt followed. But soon enough, they were both headed back to the dining room carrying more food.

“I hope you don't mind my asking you something, William.” William was rearranging the plates on the table and Kurt was refolding the napkins a bit more artistically. “But I heard from Tina that you didn't apply for the first footman position, and I was wondering why.”

“Of course it was Tina.” He emitted a small huff of amusement, grin still on his face. “The quiet ones are always best at learning everyone's secrets.” He looked to Kurt and they both began heading downstairs again to gather more dishes. William didn't continue until they were back in the dining hall, alone. “The truth is I don't know that I shall remain in service very much longer.”

“Why ever not?” Kurt frowned. As far as he could tell, William was competent enough.

“I wish to get married. There is a beautiful woman in the village whom I've been meeting with on my days off. Her name is Terri.” He said her name breathlessly, and his eyes drifted away from the table momentarily. “I proposed to her not long ago. I cannot both remain in service and raise a family at the same time, and Terri insists that I find myself a better paying job before the wedding anyways. I only stayed to wait for a new footman so Dalton could manage in my leave. I've applied to a few office positions in the city. Once I am hired and I leave here, we plan to marry.”

“Congratulations,” Kurt said. They made their way toward the servants' staircase again but William stopped him just at the door.

“Please try and keep this secret. I have spoken with Mr. Wes about the matter but I don't wish it to be known to everyone.”

“Of course. Not a word.”

~

Sebastian could see them heading back down the stairs again. In their matching livery and shiny shoes. Those footmen have probably never given a second thought as to why their shoes are so shiny. Of course it was Sebastian who cleaned them every morning. He felt like he was always cleaning. Right now, he was in the servants' hall, wiping down the table to prepare for servants' supper later tonight. As always, he would be dining before them, alone, so that he could wait on everyone else while they ate. Sebastian set the cloth down on the table and walked passed the stairs to the kitchen doorway.

The pretty footman was standing at a counter near the door, loading empty glasses onto a tray. He perked his head up and saw Sebastian glaring at him. “May I help you?” The footman quirked an elegant eyebrow.

“Just seeing if you knew what you were doing. Since you're new.” Sebastian gave him his best, most insincere grin. “Don't be afraid to ask for help. Those of us who've been here longer know the house's eccentricities. For instance, one of the steps on the second floor always creaks. And the handrail on the first floor stairs is loose. Servants are supposed to be very quiet you know. Wouldn't want you to accidentally make noise and disturb the family.”

“Thank you for the advice.” The footman looked confused but smiled nonetheless.

Sebastian continued in the most patronizing tone he could manage. “Dalton is a very prestigious house you know. The footmen are meant to reflect that. They're meant to be handsome and tall. Given your shortcomings, I assume you must have some other remarkable abilities to justify your hiring.”

The footman's eyes crinkled as he forced a smile. “I mean no disrespect but I thought the hallboy wasn't allowed to be in the kitchen.” He turned away, nostrils flaring, and continued loading glasses.

“And I thought the maids were supposed to have their bedrooms in the attic.” Sebastian leaned against the door frame with his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly. “You should probably speak to Mr. Wes about correcting that for you.”

The footman's mouth dropped, but before he could find his wits to reply with, there was a shout from behind Sebastian.

“HEY! You're not supposed to be in here, hallboy!” The beastly woman charged towards him like a wild boar. “Your hands aren't washed and I won't have you ruining any of my food.” She pointed a wooden spoon at him, rather violently, and then pointed it to the door. “And Kurt, hurry and get those glasses upstairs!”

Kurt swooped around Sebastian and walked up the stairs without another word. Sebastian wandered back to the servants' hall and removed his dirty rag from the table. He then got started on laying the table cloth for later that night. He felt rather pleased with himself that his comments left the footman unsettled. The sooner he got Kurt out of the way, the sooner he could be promoted and be done with this humiliating job.

~

“It was such a fascinating place. You really must visit California some time, Lady Westerville!” Rachel chatted animatedly as they made their way through dinner. Blaine's father sat at the head of the table, with Cooper on his left side and the Duke on his right. Rachel sat between Cooper and Blaine, and across the table Blaine's mother was seated next to the Duke.

“The weather was absolutely beautiful despite the time of year,” Rachel's father added. He had removed his spectacles for dinner and Blaine could see him squinting covertly each time he was required to reach for his wine glass.

“Well, it sounds like you both had a wonderful time there. I've heard that the cities in America are so big though. Did you have trouble finding your way around?” Lady Westerville was mostly addressing Rachel. Blaine's mother always enjoyed when Rachel visited. Blaine is certain it is because she would have loved to have had a daughter of her own.

Fortunately, the Berrys had been friends with the Anderson family since the children were quite young; apparently the Duke and Lord Westerville had formed a bond during the Boer war. Blaine had spent the winters and springs of his childhood living in the city, being educated by the tutor his Aunt's family hired for her own children. But whenever he had the opportunity to return to Dalton, he would insist that Rachel leave her townhouse to come visit, as she was the only friend that shared his enthusiasm for music and the arts. Over the years though, Rachel's fervour for performance grew only more intense, fuelled by her parents encouragement. Meanwhile, Blaine's passion had slowly dwindled to but a smouldering ember. He still played music during house parties or at the behest of the occasional guest. But after each performance his father would always quietly remind him that hubris was unbecoming of a gentleman.

Rachel shook her head at Lady Westerville's question. “We stayed at the house of Lady Santana of the Lovelace family. Her name, as you may have noticed, is not very English. She was named after her Spanish grandmother. Anyways, Lady Santana had grown up in San Francisco so she made sure to accompany us to all the best places.”

“And what sort of places did you visit?” Cooper asked. “Miss Katherine and I were thinking of travelling after the wedding and we both wished to see more of America beyond the East coast.”

“Well Lady Santana brought us to many theatres. We found the artistic culture to be surprisingly different over there. People are much more enamoured with musicians and singers. At one of the shows we attended there was this marvellous woman named Sophie Tucker whom we had the chance to meet. She was the most fantastic performer, wasn't she papa?”

The Duke nodded his head. “If you do go to America you really must see her sing. Quite the bright star. Of course, our little Rachel's performance this evening will surely outshine even Miss Tucker.”

“Well, I wouldn't be nearly so talented if not for all your support.” Rachel raised her glass to her father, and he mirrored her across the table.

~

It was getting late, past 9:00, by the time the men of the dinner party had left to join the women in the drawing room. The servants were quite hungry by now, so Mr. Wes was making sure that William and Kurt cleared the upstairs table efficiently. They brought the serving dishes back down to the kitchen for the scullery to deal with, and then set the family's china and silverware onto separate trays in order to carry them downstairs more easily. Kurt's job would be to clean and polish the silverware, while William would be tasked with washing the china and glasses, both under Mr. Wes's strict observation.

Kurt was returning up the stairs to dining room, after having deposited a few more serving dishes, when he noticed that he could hear the piano being played. The music was emanating through the door that lead to the drawing room. It was not quite as audible as it had been from the stairwell earlier that day, but he could still make out the sound of Rachel's singing. After the song finished Rachel gave a brief unintelligible monologue and a new tune began to play. Her voice was lovely, once again, but this time Kurt could hear a male voice underneath hers at the end of each line. He was surprised to realize he was finally hearing Blaine sing.

Kurt started loading cutlery onto his carrying tray, angling his ears toward the door in an effort to discern the lyrics. At a whim, he looked up to see that Mr. Wes was distracted, inspecting some glasses with William. Kurt left his tray and approached the door of the drawing room to listen to what remained of the song. The chorus, it seemed, had already passed. But now the singers switched roles, so that Blaine was singing the first part of each line solo, then harmonizing with Rachel at the end.

“...Longing for you all the while, more and more;

Longing for the sunny smile, I adore;

Birds are singing far and near, roses blooming ev'rywhere

You, alone, my heart can cheer, you, just you.”

Mr. Wes cleared his voice nearby and Kurt jumped. “Sorry sir.” He returned to arranging the cutlery on his carrying tray, careful not to let the silver overlap so as to prevent scratches. The song came to an end. And it seemed that the performers had reached their curtain call. There was a quiet patter of polite clapping that faded as Kurt made his way down the servants' stairs. It was a shame he couldn't hear more of their singing. Blaine's voice truly was enchanting. Kurt only wished he could see him perform in person one day, instead of listening through a closed door.