The pub was loud, dirty, and smoky. Kurt stared into his ale gloomily. He had visited Lord Anderson earlier in the day, and it had been fine. It had been taken about an hour and had been in all meanings of the word, pleasant. Except it hadn’t been. Kurt couldn’t help but focus on the strange tension. When he had been shown into one of the parlors at Dalton, Lord Anderson had been waiting in one of the chairs, slouched back with his legs crossed. The moment he saw Kurt, he had leapt up. Kurt had been so startled that all he had done was bow to give himself more time to think. Lord Anderson wasn’t supposed to be so lively.
After that, the meeting was queer. They had talked about inane things, hunting, the social events of the season, etc. All safe topics. But they did not feel like safe topics. Every time Lord Anderson spoke to Kurt, he focused those amber eyes on Kurt in such an intense manner. Kurt felt like Lord Anderson was analyzing every word he said as if he was trying to discover something. The theory seemed to be confirmed every once in a while because Lord Anderson’s eyes would light up. He looked positively gleeful in those minutes. It was in these moments that Kurt remembered that he was, in fact, supposed to be looking at Lord Anderson’s forehead and not into his eyes. By the time Kurt left, his stomach was in such a state of knots and butterflies; he wondered that he didn’t vomit. At least, he had gotten permission to use Dalton’s ground for hunting. Michael and Noah would be interested.
Speaking of the devils, Michael and Noah slid onto the bench opposite Kurt, pints overflowing with cheap ale. Instantly Noah took a huge gulp and wiped his mouth on his shirt, his waistcoat having found the use of being a napkin.
“So what happened with you?” Noah asked as he tried to wipe away a drop of ale off the table.
“I called on the great bastard today.” Kurt replied simply, slipping into the role of an uncouth gentleman easily. He was quite pleased with himself.
“Why’d you call on him?”
“Father has put me in charge of finding Quinn and Rachel husbands. Lord Anderson’s friend are coming next week and are no doubt all gentlemen. Rachel will not marry someone from Lima, but of course, she cannot get married before Quinn. I hope to find Quinn’s husband in the group as well. I can hardly think of anyone here that Quinn would be happy with.”
Michael smiled congenially, “That’s very kind of you. I hope you find them profitable and happy marriages. In fact, I propose a toast.” Michael raised his tankard and waited for Noah and Kurt to raise theirs. “ To the Hummel siblings and happy marriages.”
All of the tankards clinked softly before they were pulled away quickly as each man began to chug their ale. With skill gotten from a long acquaintance, they all finished and banged their ales on the table in unison as they leaned back to let the fire ease. Even though it was cheap ale, it was not meant to be chugged. All were gasping as their throats throbbed with dull heat and fire coursed through their veins. Noah recovered first, unsurprisingly; he drank the most of the three. He grabbed all three empty tankards and with a mumbled promise of getting more, left.
When Michael had recovered enough to talk, he leaned forward. “Now that Noah’s gone, tell me the truth. Tina told me you were upset when you found out about the rumor of you and Lord Anderson.”
Kurt shrugged. “It’s not the one rumor. I initially laughed when I first heard it. It was only when my father told me that it was a prolonged rumor that I became uncomfortable. To be the long-term lover of a lord does not make me a gentleman, it makes me nothing.”
Michael frowned. “I’m not quite sure that I understand.”
Kurt nodded. “I didn’t think you would. It’s a rather obscure societal expectation for homosexuals. As the man of lower standing, I become the woman in the relationship. Even if it’s not a marriage, I become Lord Anderson’s whore. I am lost in the equation and become just a further extension of Lord Anderson himself. I have worked too hard to become who I am to just become someone else’s property.”
Michael nodded. He understood completely. “It’s a matter of pride and independence. Well, I commend you on who you are, Kurt Hummel. You are a damn honorable man.”
Kurt smiled and inclined his head in Michael’s direction. “If I had a pint, I’d raise it to you, but unfortunately, Noah isn’t back with my tankard yet.”
Michael looked out over the sea of men who were drowning their sorrows in full tankards of cheap ale. “I think I see him coming. Oh, he got distracted by a barmaid. Wait, she slapped him. Some of the ale spilled. I’ll make sure he gets that one. I’m not going to give up my ale. Here he comes. It took you long enough.”
Noah plunked down the ales on the table, more ale overflowing. Kurt and Michael both grimaced but each made a grab for a tankard.
“It’s busy tonight, and maybe I got distracted. The girl hit me, but she’ll be warming my bed before long. Puckzilla always gets his girl.” Noah followed the barmaid with his eyes while he absent-mindedly stroked his red cheek.
“I still have no idea what means,” Kurt responded with a look at Michael. Michael shrugged. Noah had made the name up one day for his sexual alter ego. No one knew what it mean, and both Kurt and Michael suspected that Noah had no idea what it meant either.
Noah ignored him. “What did I miss?”
Kurt shot Michael a prohibitory look. “I was just telling Mike how Lord Anderson has invited us to go hunting with him and his friends.”
“Fuck yeah. He has the best hunting grounds in a fifty-mile radius. I’m glad you got something out of calling on him.”
“Of course. What are prospective matches compared to hunting grounds?” Kurt replied dryly.
“Hunting is the only other thing I find pleasurable besides women. Hunting is freeing. Marriage is a ball and chain. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
“Drink your ale, Noah. Kurt is ensuring the best possible marriages for his sisters. That’s very admirable.” Michael was always quick to defend Kurt. It was something that had carried over from when they were little.
Noah grumbled and took a long draught of his ale. Kurt and Michael followed the action, but not before exchanging a look. Maybe for now, it would be better to keep Noah somewhat ignorant. Of course, after two hours, they could have told Noah anything and he wouldn’t have remembered a damn thing.

……………….

When Kurt woke up the next morning, it was to Lila calling to him quite loudly,” Master Hummel. Miss Quinn told me to tell you that one of your friends is waiting in the parlor.”
He opened his eyes and groaned. The light streaming in through his window was like a hammer to his skull. “Why are you shouting?”
Lila looked so confused. “I am not, sir. Should I tell the gentleman downstairs that you are not well?”
Kurt pushed through the fog in his brain to think of who would be calling on him. He vaguely remembered promising to go fishing with Noah and Michael this afternoon. It wouldn’t be Noah. The fool would be in some poor girl’s bed still. It was probably Michael, but how he was able to call on Kurt with a hangover was beyond Kurt’s mental capacity at the moment.
“No, no. I’ll come down. Tell Mike to give me fifteen minutes. Bring me some water as well, please.” Kurt had rolled over to try and push himself up, so he was not able to see Lila confusion at the name ‘Mike’. Quinn had instructed her to not tell Kurt who was in the parlor, so she said nothing.
Kurt groaned loudly as he pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed. He had not meant to get so drunk last night, yet here he was, paying for it badly. Kurt managed to get both feet on the floor and stand up before he had to sit down again. His head had swum so badly, and the pounding in his temple had increased at his attempt to get up. After a few seconds, he tried again. He pushed through the nausea welling up and staggered his way over to the water basin in corner. Stationed directly under the window, he grabs the pitcher of sun-warmed water and pours it into the basin. When the basin’s been filled, he puts the edge of the pitcher to his mouth and greedily swallows what’s left. The water helped him clear a little of his muddled brain. He would need much more water and maybe breakfast. Vomiting before he fell asleep last night had really sped up the hangover process. Maybe he could have some of that West Indies tea. It would help him start the day.
After quickly splashing his face with water, Kurt stumbled over to his closet. The day was promised to be dirty, so Kurt grabbed his oldest pair of breeches. They were from the beginning of this last growth spurt, so they were a little tight. Especially in his ass, Kurt thought with a worried look over his shoulder. With one last worried look, Kurt made himself forget it. Mike wouldn’t care, so he turned back to his closet. And if he preened a little about how nice his ass looked, so be it.
Kurt made a grab for a clean undershirt and shrugged it on. A black waistcoat followed. He’d probably take it off, so hopefully the black would hide any stains. If not, this particular waistcoat was old as well. He ignored his frock coat. It was Mike and Noah. They’d probably be just as dressed down.
Kurt looked in the mirror. Shit, stockings! He forgot to put his stockings on first. He rustled around in his closet until he found an old pair. They were holey. Ah well, he’d put on riding boots. He reached down to pull his boots on and promptly had to sit down. His head was pounding again. Damn, where was Lila with his water?
Kurt waited a few seconds before he put on his boots, albeit much slower. Once done, he got up. His hair needed to be fixed, but he didn’t want to waste his pomade. He reached out to wet his hand with the water from the basin before he ran it through his hair. After a few minutes of playing with it, it looked acceptable. It didn’t have its usual height, but it looked presentable.
Kurt shot one last look to the mirror to make sure he was presentable before turning to leave. He was missing his sunhat, but he was pretty sure he left it downstairs.
Lila opened the door right as he was reaching for it. She was startled and almost threw the tray of water. Kurt barely managed to grab the other side of the tray and steady it.
“Ohh, I’m terribly sorry, Master Hummel. You scared me. I’m so sorry.” She let go of the other end of the tray, so she could cover her face with her hands.
Kurt took the tray and cooed softly, “It’s okay. It happens. I’ll take the water. Thank you, by the way. If you could make a pot of the West Indie tea and bring it to the parlor for Mike and I, I’d be very appreciative.”
Lila nodded, her hands still covering her face. She curtsied briefly before turning to leave, hands still covering her face. Kurt was slightly worried. He was the highest room in the house, and the stairs were steep.
Kurt turned around to place the tray down, ears trained to listen for the sound of falling. He grabbed the pitcher, ignoring the cup and began to drink from the pitcher. He emptied half of it before he stopped. The water turned the pounding of his head into an almost background thrum. He could deal with that.
Finally! He was presentable, and aside from slightly red-rimmed eyes, he looked normal.
Kurt made his way downstairs and just before he entered the parlor, he started talking,” You must have a hollow leg, if you can get here this early after the night we had. I swear you drank more than Noah and I com-“
Kurt stopped talking. It wasn’t Mike in the parlor. It was Lord Anderson. It was Lord Anderson dressed wonderfully and appropriately in beautiful black riding boots, appropriately tight breeches, and a navy blue frock coat-. Frock Coat! Kurt wasn’t wearing his frock coat! Lord Anderson was seeing him in his shirtsleeves. Kurt couldn’t be seen so informal in front of a man he wasn’t close to!
To his credit, Lord Anderson also looked very surprised to see Kurt so underdressed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the triangle of skin at the top of Kurt’s shirt. Kurt refused to wince, but he knew exactly what Lord Anderson was looking at. He hadn’t laced up the collar of his shirt. He hadn’t thought he needed to. He wasn’t wearing a cravat and he had expected Mike, not Lord Anderson. Fuck it all to Hell!
“Lord Anderson, please pardon my state of dress. I was not expecting you,” was all Kurt could offer in this trying time of his life.
Lord Anderson cleared his throat. “I must apologize. Miss Hummel informed me that you were expecting me. I should have called ahead regardless.”
Kurt blushed. What was Quinn playing at? This was a rare day where Rachel had a voice lesson with Ms. Cochran and their father was at the doctor’s. Usually it was Quinn and Kurt, but she was obviously gone. And she had apparently told Lord Anderson that Kurt was waiting for him. No, he wasn’t. He expected Lord Anderson to call on him, but not the next day. Lord Anderson should have called ahead because clearly he was on his way over here already if he met Quinn. Fuck. What was she playing at?
“I must confess that I am usually up by now. Quinn must not have known. I was not expecting you to call so soon. If I had known, I would de dressed more appropriately.” Kurt let out a small self-deprecating laugh. The tension in the room was palpable and Kurt felt as if he was suffocating. His hangover seemed mild in comparison.
Lord Anderson chuckled as well. “I understand. Perhaps I should call again at a later date.” He took a step toward the door as if about to leave.
Kurt wasn’t about to let that happen. This meeting was already awkward. He might as well salvage the meeting as much as he can because he was not willing to do a repeat performance of Lord Anderson calling on him. Kurt took a step forward.
“No, please. You came all the way out here. If you will give me a few minutes to get my coat and cravat, I would love to share a pot of tea with you.”
Lord Anderson smiled and Kurt was almost blinded. Never had Lord Anderson managed a completely normal smile. It transformed his features completely. He was devastatingly handsome. Of course as soon as Kurt thought this, he moved his eyes up to Lord Anderson’s forehead.
“Of course. This is your house. You may do as you please. I will wait here.” As if to solidify his decision, Lord Anderson turned towards the window as if to examine the garden.
Kurt bowed shallowly, unsure if Lord Anderson could see it before turning to leave. After he turned he remembered that his breeches were inappropriately tight. Kurt soothed himself that Lord Anderson was looking out the window and wouldn’t see. Lord Anderson saw and suddenly both men were in possession of tight breeches.
Kurt practically sprinted up the stairs in order to get to his room. He needed to put on a coat. He should also change his pants. No, he didn’t have time for that. Lord Anderson was waiting for him, and you should never keep a person waiting. Especially if that man could make or break you. No, changing his breeches would have to wait. Lord Anderson wouldn’t notice his pants. He had no reason to look. The coat and cravat would be enough.
His grey coat was hanging on a bedpost and took less than three seconds to put on. He grabbed a cravat from his bedside table. It took less than a minute to tie it properly. Kurt slid in front of his mirror and scrutinized his person. He buttoned his jacket and smoothed out the creases. Ugh, some of the creases wouldn’t come out. He needed to stop getting drunk. His clothes deserved the utmost respect.
With one last look to make sure he was okay, Kurt left his room and descended the stairs.
Lord Anderson was seated in the only patch of sunlight next to a table that had Kurt’s West Indies’ tea and a small plates of sandwiches. Lord Anderson was holding a small teacup, quietly blowing on it to cool it. Kurt slowed down his pace to a slow measured pace that he had practiced for days when he was fifteen. Noah had made a comment about how he walked like a girl and damn, had Kurt worked to correct that.
“Lord Anderson,” Kurt greeted before he sat down. Lord Anderson looked up and nodded. Kurt thought he saw Lord Anderson look a little lower and frown before he returned his gaze to Kurt’s face.
“Mr. Hummel, I admire your frock coat. It is very becoming.”
Kurt let a small smile grace his face. “Thank you. It is one of my favorites. May I pour you another cup of tea?”
Lord Anderson looked down speculatively at his cup. It was half-full, but growing cold. “You may. Thank you.”
As Kurt poured the tea, Lord Anderson watched Kurt analytically. He had a fair face. He must apply something to keep it so smooth and pale, but as Lord Anderson looked closer, he could see a sort of stiffness. Not in Kurt’s actions for Kurt was the epitome of grace. No, it was a stiffness in his air. Every move Kurt made was calculated. He didn’t do anything he didn’t want to unless he was taken by surprise. Lord Anderson had spent a good part of Kurt’s visit yesterday analyzing him, but it was only after seeing him so unprepared that he was able to pinpoint what bothered him. And now that he saw it, it was very obvious. In Kurt’s eyes that swirled with colors of blue, there was a guard that was hidden by a slight twinkle of humor. His posture, so perfect, had an extra rigidity to it. There was not one flaw in his demeanor. Kurt had created a guard around him that was so well hidden, it was almost impossible to detect unless you were a studier of people. It was quite a good thing then that Lord Anderson was a studier of Kurt.
“My Lord, may I get you anything else?” Kurt asked as he poured himself a cup.
“No thank you. The tea is fine. I would like to pick up our conversation from where we left off yesterday.”
Kurt titled his head slightly, “I believe we were talking about hunting, My Lord.”
“Yes. We were specifically talking about you coming over to hunt on my grounds. They are too big for me alone and as a result, the grounds are overrun by wild game. I have friends coming over next week. Perhaps you and your friends would like to join us?”
Kurt smiled politely, but on the inside was grinning like a madman. Lord Anderson had brought the topic up himself. This was fantastic! “I would be delighted and honored to join you, My Lord.”
Lord Anderson smiled into his cup. “Fantastic. They are arriving in the middle of next week. We shall probably go hunting the week after, so a fortnight from now.”
“May I ask your relation to the men in the party?” Kurt had a momentary inward struggle. That wasn’t too forward, was it?
“They are my friends from school. Mr. Finn Hudson, Mr. David Karofsky, Mr. Sebastian Smythe, Mr. Jesse St. James and Mr. Rory Flanagan are my own friends and I believe they have also invited some of their own friends. The party is a dozen in total.”
Kurt contemplated what Lord Anderson said. Twelve men were more than enough. He could definitely find two men in that group worthy of being his sisters’ husbands. This might not be too bad.
“A dozen. I am sure they will be the talk of the town the entire time they are here. Will you introduce them at the next assembly?”
Lord Anderson shook his head. “I was planning to hold a ball to welcome them. A ball’s atmosphere is lively and entertaining. It is a much better atmosphere for introduction, and from what I understand, there has not been a ball in many years.”
Kurt nodded. “I believe the last ball was five years ago when Mr. Bingley was here. It will be nice to have one again. I agree that they are good for introduction. I am sure every young person in town will be eager to attend.”
Lord Anderson smiled. “I am glad you think so. I have heard so many rumors swirling around me that I thought I would clear them up once and for all. It is my own fault for not being a sociable as a baron should be.”
Kurt blushed hotly. He raised his teacup to hide his face. “There are always rumors floating around. A person could have their entre life on display and people would still talk.”
Lord Anderson hummed in agreement. “I suppose you are right. Now, I’m sorry to steer our conversation away, but I must ask about this tea. I feel as if my heart will burst from my chest.”
Kurt couldn’t contain his laugh at Lord Anderson’s concerned expression. “Do not fear, My Lord. It is tea from the West Indie’s.”
……………

Quinn Hummel was considered a very proper girl, and she was. And a proper girl did nothing to cause scandal and what Quinn was doing wouldn’t. She merely had plans that involved her brother’s happiness. Her mother had made her promise something as well. It was to make sure that Kurt was happy, and to make sure he didn’t go overboard. And Kurt was going overboard.
Quinn knocked on the door that lead into the Jones’ manor. Their maid, Miss Rose, opened the door.
“Good morning, Miss Hummel. What may I do for you?”
Quinn smiled pleasantly. Everything she did was pleasant. “Good morning, Miss Rose, I was wondering if Miss Jones was in.”
Miss Rose smiled. “She is indeed, madam. May I show you to her?”
“If you would be so kind.” Quinn stepped over the threshold and followed Miss Rose to the parlor. Mercedes was sitting in a chair near the window, reading a letter. When Miss Rose came in and announced Quinn, Mercedes hastily folded the letter and tucked the letter into the drawer behind her. Quinn smiled pleasantly at her. What impeccable timing.
“Mercedes, how wonderful to see you,” Quinn said as she sat down in the chair opposite.
“Quinn, you have not called on me in three years. What have I done to deserve such an honor?” Mercedes asked smiling. She truly was happy to see Quinn. Quinn seemed to be more sensible and levelheaded than most of the town girls.
“Kurt,” Quinn replied simply.
“What about Kurt?”
“You shouldn’t marry him.”
“What?” Mercedes was shocked. She thought that Quinn of all people would approve of their marriage. “Why not?”
“You would not be happy.”
“Compared to marrying a stranger, I would be very happy.” Mercedes protested.
“Let me rephrase what I was saying. You would not be as happy as you could be.” Quinn tilted her head to watch the emotions flitter across Mercedes face.
Mercedes knew she was right. Marrying Kurt would not make her as happy as possible, but it would make her as happy as possible in her current situation.
“I’m not quite sure I understand.” Mercedes finally responded.
“You and Kurt are both marrying to make the best of your situation. Kurt wants to keep the house in our family and you are the best choice for that, I agree. We all love you and it would not be the most terrible marriage. But your heart belongs to another.”
Mercedes froze. How did Quinn know? She had gone to great lengths to keep it a secret. What had given her away? It would be best to play dumb. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Quinn put a finger to her lips as if she were thinking. “Sam Evans is the son of your gardener, Mr. Evans, and is Lord Anderson’s personal driver. I believe that you and him share mutual feelings, but because of his station in life you cannot not marry him.”
“How do you know?”
“Lila, our maid, is attached to Mr. Thad Darling. He talks a lot and apparently so does Sam.”
Mercedes blanched. “He wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
“He most likely felt he was safe talking to other servants. Lila talks to me. She is very alone in this practice, but don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”
“What does this have to do with Kurt?” Mercedes asked. She felt a little better. Quinn always kept her word.
“Like I said, Thad talks. Lila has also told me that Lord Anderson is intending to make Sam steward. That is a very high promotion for a driver. That puts him in the same social standing as us.”
“You cannot speak in riddles, Quinn. I hardly understand why you are here to begin with.
Quinn withheld a sigh. It was hardly fun to manipulate her brother if she had to speak plainly. The subterfuge was the most exciting part.
“Lord Anderson would have to have a personal interest in raising Sam’s social standing. It’s almost unheard of for any master to do that.”
Mercedes was beginning to understand. “Kurt. Lord Anderson does not wish for me to marry Kurt.”
Quinn nodded. “I believe so. He is quite interested in my brother, so much so that he wishes for Kurt to remain unattached. The best way for that to happen is to offer you your best possible chance at happiness.”
Mercedes nodded. She could understand that logic. If Quinn was correct, which she most likely was, then both Kurt and Mercedes could be much happier than originally planned.
“What do you need me to do?”
Quinn smiled pleasantly. Everything she did was pleasant.