The first thing Blaine noticed upon exiting the coach was that the man waiting for them at the gate was not Kurt.  Not unless Kurt had grown even taller, put on 40 pounds of muscle, and lost all of his hair.  A quick glance at the tattooed stripe down the man's bare head told Blaine exactly whom their welcoming committee consisted of.  Rachel would know as well, of course.  They'd had the same tutors.

“On behalf of Baron Albert Hummel II and his son, Lord Kurtis, I welcome you to Blackbird Castle,” the man announced, his voice echoing off the courtyard's stone walls.

“My name is Puckerman.  I'm the Senior Armsman for the premises, which means that I'm responsible for both your safety and your behavior for the duration of your stay.  So, pretty please, I ask you my Lord and Lady, don't piss me off.” 

Eyes sparking angrily at the man's atrocious lack of courtesy, Rachel primly acknowledged the greeting, nodding her head at the exact degree due a person of the guardsmens station, while Blaine bowed very slightly just behind her.  If he weren't escorting Rachel, Blaine's bow should have been 15 degrees deeper; he was a minor lordling without holdings while Puckerman had served in the Queen's personal guard.  But Rachel's hand on his arm elevated his status.  Blaine only owed the man a slightly deeper acknowledgement than hers.

“Baron Albert is not currently in residence,” Puck continued, either not noticing, or more likely not caring, that Rachel was quietly imploding. 

“Lord Kurtis had hoped to be here to welcome you himself.  He sends regrets that he's unable to be here at present and sent me to escort you in his stead.  It will be his pleasure to meet you for dinner this evening.”

Rachel straightened to every inch of her scant height.  This was an outrage!  How dare the lordling not bother to so much as meet a potential match at the gate?  Was she not worthy of his personal attention?  This was not only an insult to her, but to all of Broadway, and she would not stand for it! 

Before Rachel could open up with a scathing response to such a poor display of etiquette, Blaine squeezed her arm gently, bringing her back down to earth.  She took a slow, deep breath.  Yelling at the help did nothing but make the help not want to come near her, she reminded herself of that hard-earned lesson.  And she really, really needed a bath.

Deciding that she, at least, would show proper respect, Rachel gave the man a tight smile.  “Well met, Captain.  I regret Lord Kurt's absence and hope his is able to settle any issues that have kept him away from his duties.  If you'd show me to my rooms I'd appreciate it.”  She'd discuss the matter further with the man himself at dinner, in great detail. Puck grinned as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and found it entertaining.

Maybe he did.  Instead of commenting, he simply turned and led the way into the keep. 

“I'm not a captain, anymore my Lady.  It's just Puck,” he told her as he led them down an open, brightly lit corridor.  Behind them, Blackbird's servants mingled with those she'd brought along to start unloading the coach and wagons.  Rachel deliberately kept herself from glancing back as the horses were led away by their handlers.  

An entire wing had been dedicated to Lady Rachel's party.  Puck led her up a wide staircase to the second floor.  Opening an ornately carved wooden door, he gestured for her to precede him. 

The chamber was large and airy, elegantly decorated, with a large, open window looking out into the countryside.  More importantly, a giant clawed tub sat near the window, already filled with steaming hot water and sweet smelling bubbles.  Rachel was so grateful she nearly cried.  Completely abandoning any hint of decorum, Rachel began yanking at her dress.   

“I call first bath,” she called to her brother, racing for the tub as she stripped mid-run.

Blaine sighed.  She really was hopeless.  He turned back the armsman, narrowing his eyes when he saw the man blatantly watch as Rachel tossed aside her clothes.  Blaine was almost certain that Rachel was aware of the man's gaze and simply chose not to care.  Clearly, her only priority involved getting into the hot water as quickly as physically possible.

“Sir,” Blaine coughed delicately.  “She's my sister.  A little common courtesy, if you don't mind.”

“Nope, I don't mind at all,” Puck told him, grinning lewdly.  “But if you insist, I can find other things to do with my time.  Your room is adjoining this one, let me just show you to the door and then I'll go make sure your servants are settling in well.”

“It's appreciated,” Blaine replied coolly.  Upon opening the heavy wooden door next to Rachel's, he was surprised to find a similar tub waiting for him.  He typically didn't warrant such a luxury.  Staring hard at the steam rising from the placid surface, Blaine had to physically lock his body in place so that he didn't strip faster than his sister.

Puck chuckled knowingly.  “I'll leave you to it, then.  Dinner is in three hours, but one of the girls will be in shortly with some light snacks to tide you over.”

Blaine nodded absently, his eyes glued to the sparkling suds.  The soft click of the door closing behind him robbed Blaine of his last shred of restraint and he threw himself into the giant brass bath, clothes and all.

*******

After a long, decadent bath, Blaine finally emerged from the tepid water, dressing in the emerald blue robe that had been laid out for him.  Generally, the greeting ceremony at the gate was a deliberate, achingly long diplomatic dance that left the servants ample time to move their things into the room.  Since they'd skipped that part entirely, his clothes had yet to be properly situated. 

Despite Rachel's anger at the perceived insult, Blaine found that he liked this outcome far better than the alternative.  Tying the belt neatly around his waist, he knocked once at the adjoining door to his sister's room before entering.  It appeared deserted.

“Rachel?”  He called, looking around.  Slight swirls appeared in the bathtub's surface as Rachel's head popped up.  “I'm never moving again,” she declared stoutly. “And did you notice these things have some kind of system that makes the water stay hot longer?” 

Blaine smiled and took a seat on the padded window seat across from her.  “I know what you mean.  And, yes, I did.  Ill make inquiries later.”  He glanced over and saw the multitude of luggage piled by her bed.  Rachel's belongings, at least, had made it in.

“So, what do you make of the cold shoulder?”  Rachel asked him, folding an arm over the side of the tub closest to Blaine.  She was curious to hear Blaine's take on the situation.  Her brother had a way of seeing things, sometimes, that she missed.

Blaine shrugged.  “It's a gross breach of protocol, which you can certainly cry foul on if you wish.”

She nodded.  “It's the “why,' part that interests me,” Rachel mused.  “It could mean all manner of things.  Or nothing at all.  He could quite possibly have legitimately been unable to come.  He did send the next highest in rank.”

Blaine nodded.  “Armsman Puckerman is legendary.  He served in the Queen's Adventurers for 6 years before that unfortunate arrow to the knee incident ended his career.  It's no shame to be greeted by one such as he.”

“But not normal, either,” Rachel argued stoutly.

“No, no it's not.  If you're asking my opinion…”

“I am,” Rachel deliberately interrupted him with a smile.

“Then you can shut up and listen while I give it to you,” Blaine replied, lobbing a pillow in her general direction.  She laughed and ducked briefly under the water, dodging the projectile.

When it appeared Rachel would keep her peace, Blaine continued.  “Personally, I suggest you don't overthink it.  There's no point without more information.  Wait and see what he has to say at dinner this evening and go from there.”

Rachel nodded agreement and sunk back down under the suds to soak out three weeks of dirt.

***************

Dinner was an appropriately lavish affair.  The wide, heavy wooden tables were loaded to bear with all manner of choice foods, with warmed plates set in a neat pile that could be filled and refilled at will.  This was a fairly common set up for a semi-formal evening.  It allowed people to come and go as they pleased and sit in close conversational distance at the smaller tables with whomever they wished.  Rachel approved the choice.  It spoke of friendly familiarity rather then the coolness of a meeting between strangers.  She considered it good sign. 

Rachel glanced over at her brother as he took his place beside her at the door to the wide chamber.  Despite being immaculately dressed and exuding his usual charm, Blaine looked pale, with carefully concealed nerves.  Despite three weeks of game and dried bread crackers, he barely glanced at the generous spread at the main table.

Lord Kurtis and Puck were waiting for them when the siblings arrived.  An announcer barked their names and titles as they entered, approaching the young lord where he stood at the head of the large table.  Once Rachel had come to a stop before him, Lord Kurt smiled warmly and bowed from the waist.  It was a sign of high respect that Rachel wasn't entirely sure what to make of, given his previous actions.

Rachel stood front and center, with Blaine exactly in place a step behind and to her right.  He bowed in time with his sister's curtsy, trying not to ogle the man before them. 

Blaine's memory was clearly flawed.  Surely he'd remember if the beautiful, sexy, snow angel before them had been this hot as a boy.  Or perhaps uberty was just a good look on Kurt.  A really, really good look.  Blaine was concerned that he may start drooling if he stared much longer.  A stirring in his pants left him grateful he'd worn the formal long coat that reached his thighs.  

Kurt opened his mouth to speak and Blaine was instantly teleported back to warm, lavender-scented nights in the gardens back home.  Kurt's voice was still the same light, sweet tone he remembered.

“I sincerely apologize for not being present for your arrival,” Kurt was telling Rachel as Blaine snapped back to the present. “But I'm very pleased to welcome you now. I imagine the long journey has been a rough one.  If you like, perhaps we could fill our plates then talk?”

“Thank you for your warm greeting,” Rachael replied, a definite hint of recrimination in her tone.  “That sounds agreeable.”  Clearly she was still hot about the snubbing at the gate.  Blaine hoped she got over it in a reasonable time or she might just end up husbandless…again.

Ignoring Rachel's tone, Kurt nodded politely to her before turning his eyes to the young man serving as her escort.  He was a half-brother of sorts, if Kurt remembered correctly.  When Kurt's curious gaze met warm, tawny brown eyes his body froze, eyes going wide.  Kurt suddenly forgot how to breathe.  And perhaps how to walk.

Blaine.  They'd shared so many firsts.  He was still Kurt's favorite fantasy when he stroked himself to completion at night.  Or in the bath.  Sometimes in a handy broom closet. 

How had Kurt missed this?  They'd been announced, for the sake of apples!  Blaine looked equally stunned, if not as surprised as Kurt, which made him feel only slightly better.  Kurt watched as Blaine's cheeks pinked slightly at the attention.  He grinned, remembering that blush.  Oh, this could be fun. 

“Blaine.  How amazingly good to see you again,” Kurt told him sweetly.  “You've grown into stunning man.”  He reached for Blaine's hand, bringing it to his lips, gazing intently into Blaine's gorgeous eyes. 

Kurt paused, allowing his breath to warm the back of Blaine's hand before laying his lips ever so softly against the skin, holding them there just a second too long for courtesy.  Blaine was full on blushing now, the color creeping down to his neck, and was breathing in quick, shallow breaths.  Blaine gulped audibly, slowly reclaiming his hand.  Kurt hid his delight at eliciting such a strong response from the beautiful man who haunted his favorite memories. 

“Yes…see you, good.  Touch…your lips, uhmm, I mean…”  Blaine stuttered out.

Thankfully, Rachel chose that moment to save him from himself.  She said something polite to Lord Kurtis and dragged Blaine to the food table.

“All right, you,” she hissed at her brother.  “Spill!  I'd heard rumors that Hummel the Younger may roll toward the other side of the hay, but I had nothing conclusive until he just completely eye-fucked you in the middle of the Great Hall!  You knew!  You totally knew.  Kurt's the reason that you've been on pins and needles this whole trip, isn't he?“

She stared at Blaine, watching him bite his lip and refuse to meet her eyes.   “Rotten apples, have you two fucked?!”

Blaine ducked his head.  “No!  Well, not exactly.  But yes, I had a pretty good idea that Kurt prefers male company.  We sort of had a fling some years ago.”  Filling his plate with…something, he allowed Rachel to drag him to the nearest table.

The minute they sat, Rachel kicked him hard under the table.  “And you didn't think this was information I needed to know?”

“Not really.  We were both young, and inexperienced.”  Blaine shrugged, surreptitiously rubbing at his sore calf.  “People change.”

“Not that much.  The man was mentally devouring you,” she told him. 

Rachel had to think of something dire to punish her brother with for holding out on her like this, the traitor.  Maybe one of the maids could wrangle up a small snake or lizard to put in his bed?  No, she was too old to for kid's games.  She'd think of something appropriate later.  Right now she needed to reevaluate her strategy.  If only Blaine had told her earlier, she wouldn't have bothered wearing the painfully tight corset that hurt like anything but did wonderful things to her cleavage. 

Rachel needed this match with Lima for her people, her family, and herself if she was ever going to have a shot at achieving her dreams.  Landing Lord Kurt was politically the most solid move of her life.  Rachel had been racking her brain the whole trip trying to think of something unique she could bring to the bargaining table that no one else could offer and he'd been sitting right beside her the whole time.  Well, better late than never, as the bards said.  She smiled as she started enthusiastically on her meal.

Blaine kept to himself, barely tasting what he was eating.  He knew he'd disappointed Rachel.  He didn't really know why he'd never shared the details of his brief relationship with the future Baron.  It was something he'd never told anyone, really.  Which was probably an answer in itself, he realized. 

Blaine tried hard to be what was expected of him.  He learned what he was supposed to learn, went where he was supposed to go, and both supported his sister and quietly checked her less-appropriate impulses with logic, a quiet word in her ear, and the very occasional dip into a water barrel.  He'd even given up his land to his adopted parents, essentially destroying his marital worth, because it was expected of him.    

His summer with Kurt had been magical, and was the one thing in his life that he'd kept for himself.  Blaine sighed and pushed what was undoubtedly amazing food around with his fork.  He hated disappointing people. 

Kurt had certainly recognized him, but all Blaine had read in the lordling's features was shock.  In Blaine's defense, he'd been too spellbound by the stunning man that the boy of his dreams had grown into to make a proper assessment.  Clearly Rachel had noticed something, though.  Blaine only hoped it was a good something.  The flirting had to be a good sign, didn't it?  Or maybe that was just Kurt's default response.  He obviously hadn't anticipated Blaine's presence. 

What if Kurt considered Blaine's less than stellar lineage beneath him?  It might have been different had his family not died, along with a fifth of the population of his small Barony.  But even then Blaine would have been a second son and not in direct line to inherit. 

As it stood, Blaine was a Lord with a title but no land and no fortune save what his adopted parents chose to share.  He would require a hefty dowry if he was ever to wed.  The Berry bloodline was a good, solid family, but if Rachel snared the elusive future Duke of Lima, her parents would have little reason to bother arranging a marriage for Blaine.

Feeling himself watched, Blaine looked up to see brilliant blue-grey eyes staring unabashedly across the room at him.   Well, then.  When Blaine looked challengingly back, Kurt grinned brightly and winked.  Blaine swallowed, frozen in place.

A moment later the man in question stood before their table.  “Your leave?” He asked Rachel formally.  She nodded regally.  “Naturally, Sir.  It defeats the purpose for me to be here, otherwise.  Don't you think?”

Kurt nodded in agreement and took a seat, setting his plate on the table in front of him.  “I could have set this up as a full formal dinner but I thought this might be a more comfortable setting for the type of discussion we need to have.  I strongly dislike all the posturing.  Also, the servants hate it and I make an effort not to antagonize the people who make my food.”   He smiled charmingly, his gaze glancing briefly over to Blaine.

“This is perfectly acceptable.  I enjoy not observing quite so many formalities myself.  Especially after spending weeks on the road,” Rachel agreed, taking a delicate bite from her fork. 

“On that note, though, I have a question,” she added after a moment.  “If it's something you can share, I'll have an explanation as to why you were unable to personally greet us at the gate as befits our station.  It's not as if you didn't have time to clear your calendar.” 

Rachel's voice had turned downright frosty by the end of her little speech.  Blaine placed a hand on her leg under the table and squeezed gently in warning.  Rachel schooled her features to neutrality and took another careful bite.

“I could have,” Kurt admitted.  “Obviously I had no other plans.  Your arrival is all anyone is talking about.  The pressure for me to marry has been steadily mounting for years.  Walk into any of my townships and you'll find riders at the ready just waiting to pass on the joyous tidings of a royal wedding,” he told her with an affectionate eye roll.  “One of the reasons that our respective fathers are so intent on our pairing, beyond their own close friendship, is the belief that we have a lot in common.”

Kurt swished his glass in slow circles, considering his words.  “You were trained in political maneuvering the same as I, so I hope you'll understand my reasoning.  The first time my Lord Baron took me to the Queen's palace, we were met in the perfect formality due our station.  A complete royal procession awaited us.  The Queen sparkled with gems and exquisite finery.  Her courtiers were immaculate peacocks.  Clearly hours had been devoted to making their appearance perfect. 

“Our own group was…less than stunning.  Two weeks on the road with a single stop at a tavern three nights previously was not at all conducive to carrying oneself to best advantage.  We were exhausted, cold and had dirt caked in places that I don't care to think about.  Stuffing ourselves into rumpled finery at the last minute did little to improve our outward appearance.  I felt disgusting and embarrassed to be meeting the Queen for the first time under such conditions.” 

The first time.  That suggested Kurt had met the Queen more than once, perhaps even frequently.  “How did you handle it?” Rachel asked, enraptured by Kurt's story.  She'd never personally met the Queen, though she'd spent some time at Palace.  Rachel's dedication to making this match happen had just multiplied ten-fold.

“My father leaned in and told me, you are a Hummel.  We don't back down from a fight.'  And it was a battle, if not one that could be faced with knives or warships.” 

He grinned self-consciously.  “I stiffened my spine, pulled my inner Player to the fore and performed my best ‘Lordier than you' impression for all I was worth.  I'm not sure how well I pulled it off, but at least it felt good.  The Queen actually laughed when Father presented me.  Her exact words were, ‘You'll do, Little Hummel.” 

Blaine chuckled at the image before he could catch himself, delighted and charmed by the tale.  Rachel and Kurt both laughed with him though, so he didn't blush too badly.

“How old were you?”  Rachel asked curiously.

“Nine.  And looked six.  I can't imagine what the courtiers thought of me.”  He didn't look like he really cared.

“Anyway.  I learned that day how the home-front advantage was every bit as important in politics as it can be in war.  Meeting someone in such a fashion is clearly designed to show off the wealth and status of the hosting family while putting the travelers in the worst light possible.  I won't say I haven't used that technique a time or two, particularly with some of the other potential matches Father has shoved down my throat.  But with you I didn't want to.”

Blaine glanced significantly his sister with a clear ‘I told you so' expression.  Kurt did have a good reason for giving them the cold shoulder.  Rachel stepped on his foot on general principle. 

Kurt leaned in, his voice intent, if a little sad.  “As my Father has told me many, many times, our marriage would be an ideal match.  From a Blood standpoint, our classes aren't far apart.  And a unity between our Baronies would be immensely advantageous for both our people.  We have similar interests and training, if what I've been told is true.  Your skills in strategy and weapons precede you.”  He paused to take a drink.

“I think there's a strong chance we'd have been arranged into a marriage as children if my father hadn't noted a few quirks about my budding personality and decided to wait.”  He gestured, and one of the servers brought the table a fresh round of wine.

“All that remains is to see if we can stand being in each other's close company for the rest of our lives.  Because I won't marry someone I hate.  I just can't,” Kurt finished, sounding determined.

Rachel smiled.  She hadn't missed the compliment.  And it sounded like the future baron had already been softened to the arrangement.  Someone had done half her work for her.  And of course, she had Blaine as an ace in the hole.

“Well, I thank you for your courtesy.  And given your reasons, I forgive the insult.  I too, am well aware of the advantages of a pairing between our families, and I hope the next few weeks show a spark of the chemistry I think we could build together.” 

Kurt nodded.  “Well, I'll allow you to finish your dinner in peace.  If it pleases, we can have an informal breakfast tomorrow once you wake?”  He stood and took a step back from the table.

“I look forward to it,” she told him, her eyes sparkling as she deliberately called out, “for the sake of propriety I'll need to bring Blaine, of course.”  Kurt stumbled. 

“I…yes.  That's great!  I mean…by all means, your brother is most welcome.”  Blushing, he turned and walked quickly away.

Rachel laughed softly at his retreating figure.  He really did have a fine ass.  Pity it wasn't for her.  Oh well, there were other nice butts in the world.  She dug merrily into her warm chocolaty dessert.  Rachel knew Blaine was glaring at her but didn't bother challenging his stare.  This was wedding was in the bag.

****************              

“Rachel, tell me you aren't using me to attract Kurt's attention.”  Blaine growled as soon as the door to their rooms closed behind them.

“Of course I am.  Do you really want to spend another three weeks in that damn coach going home in failure?  Clearly Lord Kurt isn't going to be swayed by my feminine wiles.  You're the next best thing I have.  And he's clearly enamored with you.”

“So that's your big plan?  Score the marriage of your dreams by selling me as some sort of consolation prize to the gay lord of the manor?” Blaine demanded in disbelief.  “Of course, now that I think on it, I am about the cheapest dowry I've ever heard of,” he continued with a brittle chuckle.

“You're being dramatic,” Rachel told him calmly as she washed the makeup off her face.  “Quit being so damn sensitive and just think for a minute.  You like Kurt, don't you?”  Blaine didn't answer.

“Blaine?” She pushed.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I like Lord Kurtis.  Or at least I think I do.  He's certainly not the boy I remember,” Blaine's voice took on a tone of admiration.

“Well, obviously any marriage of his won't be based on love or sexual desire.  And he's making no secret of the fact that he's into you.  So what's the harm?  I get to marry him, you get to sleep with him, everybody wins.  It's not as if you have any other prospects.”

Blaine visibly flinched and Rachel immediately regretted her words.  She knew how much Blaine feared spending his life alone.   She'd been thoughtlessly cruel. 

“Blaine…” she began.

“No,” he interrupted.  Rachel blinked.  Blaine rarely interrupted her.  “You are absolutely right, my Lady.  It's heavily advantageous for our family and Dukedom to make this match.  It's trite of me to do any less than what is required to ensure your success.  If becoming a bedmate to Lord Kurt will help solidify matters, I'll certainly perform as directed.” 

Of course he would.  Blaine always did what was expected him.  The cold, carefully empty look he was giving Rachel broke her heart.  “Please, Blaine, just listen…”

“If you have no further need of me, I'd like to retire to my room for the night.”  Blaine waited for Rachel's reluctant nod before exiting through the adjoining door, closing it with deliberate gentleness.  Rachel hugged a pillow and tried unsuccessfully not to cry.

******

As was so often the case, the morning proved wiser than the night.  Rachel rose to prepare, having made two firm decisions.  First, she knocked on Blaine's door to tell him he wasn't going to be attending breakfast with her.  Rachel didn't want her brother to ever think she'd sell him just to catch a husband.

“You dont need to finish getting dressed,” she told him when Blaine opened the door on her first knock.  “You aren't going to breakfast with me.”

“I'm not?”  Blaine was confused.  He tended to be foggy in the early mornings anyway, and a wide-awake Rachel was more than he could follow.

“No.  Obviously, Kurt isn't going to try anything that could be considered inappropriate.  I don't really need an escort.”

Blaine blinked.  “That's not really appropriate…”

Rachel cut him off before he could finish.  “You aren't coming.  End of discussion.  And don't bother getting everything unpacked.  As soon as you're sufficiently rested I'm sending you back home.”

Rachel took advantage of her brother's shock to close the adjoining door and leave her room, swiftly making her way down the hall.  She had a husband to ensnare.

*******

Brunch was a light, pleasant affair.  Kurt's obvious disappointment in Blaine's absence both saddened Rachel and further validated her decision to send him home.  If Blaine wasnt interested in pursuing a relationship with Kurt, it was best he wasnt here.  She missed his keen observations and calming presence, but figured she needed to learn to adjust to his absence.  She didn't want her brother to think he meant so little to her, or see that cold, betrayed look directed at her ever again.

Kurt and Rachel we're still trying to get a solid feel for each other and mostly kept to meaningless conversation.  Rachel had fully expected it go that way.  When she segued into the latest musical troopes leaving her territory she was surprised at how excited Lord Kurt became at the news.  They spent nearly an hour animatedly discussing their favorite troopes currently touring.

Pleased with how breakfast had gone, Rachel hummed to herself as she made her way back to her room to change into sparring clothes.  She found that some healthy exercise often helped clear her mind and was excited that Kurt had offered her the opportunity to spar with Puckerman himself later that day.  She'd lose, of course.  But in this instance that wasn't the point.

When she opened the door to her room, Rachel found Blaine waiting for her, sitting cross-legged on the bed.  “It's possible that I might have been a little…melodramatic last night,” he said carefully, eyes glued to his hands were they were clasped on his lap.

“You think?”  Rachel demanded.  “Blaine, you know me better than anyone in the world.  If you really think I'd do something like what you were suggesting, then we have a problem.”   

“I know,” he replied softly.

“Of course I planned to throw you at Kurt.  I thought you wanted him and it seemed like a perfect scenario.  You stared at him like he's the last sip of water after weeks at sea.  It's a wonder his ass isn't burnt from the intensity of your gaze when he walked away.”  She threw up a hand still her brother's stuttered explanations.  “I don't blame you a bit.  I've done more than a little gazing myself.  The man is gorgeous.”

She sighed.  “But he isn't for me.  And I'm fine that, as you well know.  I'm hoping for a partnership, maybe even friends some day if we're lucky.  But people need love.  We both deserve to have someone in our lives who completes us.”

She looked meaningfully into Blaine's golden eyes.  “I don't want you to be alone.  Kurt looks at you with such intensity.  I might go as far as to say longing.”

Blaine stood up from the bed, his expression unguarded.  “Really?” He asked uncertainly.  She could see he hope filling his eyes.  

He didn't do this with anyone else, Rachel knew.  Let the mask slip and share his true emotions.  The trust implied in exposing his vulnerability did more to reassure Rachel that they were okay then all the words in the world.

She grinned and knocked her shoulder against her brother's, plopping down on the bed beside him.  “Really really.  He asked about you this morning, you know.  I think if he could have found a way to validate it, he'd have sent someone to drag you to breakfast.”

Blaine smiled then, and it filled his face with such happiness that it made Rachel's heart ache, for the right reasons this time.  Blaine deserved love more than anyone else she knew. 

“So, may I stay then?”  Blaine asked.

“Of course, idiot.  Just promise not to ever look at me with those tragically sad, big brown puppy eyes ever again.”

“I don't have ‘puppy eyes',” Blaine growled at her, said eyes twinkling in amusement.  “But I promise.  Never again,” he agreed, rising to hug her.  “Unless of course, it's to my advantage.”

Rachel laughed, hugging her brother for all she was worth.  She hoped Lord Kurt realized just how lucky he was.  Speaking of lucky, Rachel had somewhere she needed to be.

******************

He was in the stable, of course.  He was always in the stable.  She leaned against the wall, watching as he murmured soft endearments to the animal he had tethered as he cleaned the strawberry roan's petite ears.

“Is she alright?”  Rachel asked. 

The man turned, startled.  When he saw her, a wide smile lit his face.  He was tall, much taller than Rachel and his clothes were stained with dirt, and hay stuck out from odd places, but he was the still the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

“She'll be fine.  Mites.  Nothing that can't be fixed.”  He turned back to the horse. 

“How are you doing, my Lady?” He asked, his eyes fixed on his task.

“I'm well.  Glad to be off the road at long last.  How are you Finnegan?”

“I'm good, thank you kindly for asking.  And how is the young Lord Hummel?”

Rachel laughed at the not-quite neutral tone.  “Everything I've heard about him so far seems to be true. “

“So, should I begin selecting mounts suitable for a royal wedding?”

“Hmm, a little early for that.  Give me some time to work.”  She pushed off the wall and walked closer, raising a hand to scratch the roan's neck.

The horseman turned to her with a faint smile.  “No need.  If youve decided he's the one you want, it's a done thing.  No one stands a chance when you set your mind to something.”

“Are you calling me stubborn?”

“I would never say such a thing.”  His eyes danced in amusement.  “Let me say instead that you always get your way, eventually.”

She smiled, pushing a little closer, until they were chest to chest.

Finn took a step back.  “Is this proper, my Lady?  Surely your soon-to-be betrothed would object.”

“Oh, I don't think so.  His eyes never dropped below my eye level the whole time we were at breakfast.”

“Twice the fool, then, not to stare at your beauty.  He'd be lucky to have you as a wife.  If he had a lick of common sense riders would already have been sent out with the glad tidings.”

Rachel stepped up until they were touching again.  “I'll snag him eventually, don't worry about that.”  She cocked her head.  “Do you like it here, Finn?”

“Oh, yes.  The stable is huge and the horses well tended.  The rooms for the staff are generous, and don't me started on the food.”

Rachel grinned at him.  “I'm so glad to hear it.  You know, when I said the rumors were true about lord Kurt, I meant all of them.”

Finn still looked confused, so Rachel tried again.

“The reason Lord Kurtis paid little mind to my cleavage might have been because his mind was distracted by Blaine's cute butt.”

Finn's eyes widened.  “You're sure?” 

“Completely.  I just need to find a way to get those two cozy and I'll have a happy brother, a satisfied husband, and become future Baroness of the most prestigious territory in Ohiyo.”

Finn laughed, finally putting his arms around her waist.  “I told you, you always get what you want when you put your mind to it.”

Rachel pressed herself against Finn's firm chest.  “Prove it,” she whispered, going up on tiptoe to whisper the words against his lips. 

Finn dipped his head, claiming her sweet lips in a kiss.  She licked her way delicately into his mouth, delving in when he opened for her.  Groaning, he pushed Rachel back until she was against the stable wall, his hands roaming as he fought to find a way under her clothes.  He felt a breathless laugh against his neck, and then Rachel's hands were at his pants, reaching in and stroking him in that special way she had that made Finn lose his mind.

“Oh, sweet apples, yes!  I missed you so much, Rachel.”  And then he gave up on talking, latching onto her lips and scrambling for the hooks to her bodice.  Rachel undid her own top, since it was obvious the hidden clasp was beyond Finn's ability and he had been known to rip when he got desperate enough and she was particularly fond of this outfit.

From around the corner, a figure looked on, watching as the two lost themselves to taste and touch that had clearly been too long denied.  He smiled to himself.  Oh, this had potential.  He just needed to figure out how he wanted to use the information.  

After another moment of gazing (the Lady really did have an impressive set on her, he noted in amusement), he turned and wandered away.