Five years later…

Kurt looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, sighing into the breeze that passed over him as he lay back and enjoyed his first moments of quiet in days. He felt guilty escaping like this, grabbing his sketchbook and sneaking quietly out through the servants entrance to the kitchen. He almost ruined a brand new pair of brown leather boots, but he might have considered it an acceptable loss.

Ever since his father had divulged at dinner a few evenings past that Lord Anderson had announced his intention to find a spouse, the entirety of the Hummel household had been in an uproar.

Being the eldest, it would be his sister Rachel bound to the marriage, since she was beyond marrying age and had no prospects – none that his father would find acceptable, that is. It was no secret that Rachel had been in love with a local merchant - Finn Hudson - for ages, but being less than a gentleman in status, with no inheritance, and no land or property to call his own, their father would never approve of the marriage.

Burt Hummel was a gentleman, and he expected his daughter and son to marry well - above their stations if he could manage it.

Marrying Rachel off to an earl would definitely fulfill that requirement.

Their mother, Elizabeth, would have strongly disagreed. She would have talked their father out of this folly and encouraged her children to marry where they loved, not for money.

Money is common, she always said, but love – true love - is rare and precious.

Elizabeth had been such an idealist when it came to love, but their mother had passed away long ago, and when his fathers health began to decline, Burt Hummel seemed to look out for any opportunity to find a favorable match for his children.

Favorable meaning lucrative, which was part of where Kurts guilt stemmed. In his sisters misery, Kurt saw for himself a glimmer of hope. Rachel marrying a wealthy lord left Kurt open to marry soon after, and he had already chosen a suitor – one that he had extreme affection for. One Kurt was more than sure that he could grow to sincerely and truly love.

Because Rachel would be unable to marry her poor merchant, Kurt would be free to marry his own poor baker – Adam Crawford.

Adam had no land, no titles, no property. He held a minor inheritance, and labored as an apprentice to a baker in town. Adam plied his trade because he loved it, and Kurt admired that about him. Kurt was certain he could find happiness with a man so engaged by his passions.

Still, to all this marriage nonsense, Kurt had to admit he suffered a sliver of jealousy.

The youngest Lord Anderson – Blaine Anderson – was the object of Kurts first real crush – a crush that plagued a corner of his heart to that very day. Once upon a time, Burt Hummel tended to matters on the Great Earl Gustave Andersons family estate in the country. For a while, the Hummel children spent as much time there as they did in their own manor house outside London. It was a marvelous time of freedom and joy, and Kurt and Blaine were the best of friends. They played and ran amuck all over the Anderson Estate. They climbed trees, swam in the Earls well-stocked lake, and found all sorts of mischief to get into. Blaine gave Kurt his first real sketchbook when he discovered Kurts love of drawing, and Kurt learned to ride a horse on Anderson land. Till the age of fifteen thereabouts, Blaine Anderson knew as much about Kurt Hummel as did Kurts own sister – and Kurt was certain Blaine had an eye for him.

But if Blaine did have feelings for Kurt, he would have never been allowed to act on them. Much was expected of the young lords with regard to marriage, and Kurt simply did not fit that bill.

Not long after the summer of Kurts fifteenth year, tragedy befell the Anderson clan. Blaines mother passed on, and then did his father. Then suddenly, Blaines older brother Cooper died rather mysteriously, and rumor had it that Blaine himself had suffered some horrible misfortune. After that, Blaine became a notorious recluse. He didnt travel in the expected social circles, he didnt dine out, he didnt participate in sport of any kind. He kept to himself, in his manor in the countryside. He probably would not have consented to marry at all if not for the responsibilities of his title, (something Kurt had overheard his father mention in confidence to a close family friend) which made this arrangement between Lord Anderson and Rachel that much more heartbreaking.

Blaine did not even care for her.

"But why?" Kurt had questioned his father while his sister bawled shamefully in her bedroom, inconsolable and uncaring of who might take notice. "Why does he want Rachel? Im sure he can have his pick of partners."

"Because he doesnt want to be bothered with the troublesome procedures of finding an appropriate spouse…and I owe him a debt," his father said simply, "and now that debt is being repaid. Ask me no more about it, and do not tell your sister."

Kurt sighed. He hated keeping secrets from Rachel, especially this one, which seemed to him to be information that she should know about her future husband.

She was being married to pay off a debt.

Kurt was revolted, but also relieved. He was unsure how he would handle such a mantle being placed on his own shoulders.

He thought about his Mr. Crawford and smiled. At least one of Elizabeth Hummels children would be able to uphold her lofty legacy and marry for love.

"Master Kurt! Master Kurt!" He heard his name shouted from the bottom of the hill, and he groaned. He knew that he couldnt escape the drama of life for very long, especially when the nerves of his sister were involved.

In a house full of servants, only two people in the world could ever calm Rachel in the throes of despair – one of those people had been their mother, and now, Kurt.

"Yes, Marley," Kurt called, waving an arm to his maid, who bounded up the hill of green where he sat. She saw him and smiled, wide and joyous and with a great many teeth on display. Marleys smiles, effervescent to a fault, were never to be trusted. She smiled the same way if she was happy to see you or if she was about to tell you that your favorite dog had just had its throat cut out. She was nigh on insufferably happy all the time, but Kurt couldnt help but be fond of the girl.

She lifted her skirts to an unseemly height, exposing her ankles as she ran toward him.

"Master Kurt!" She stopped in front of him, greeting him with a clumsy curtsey. "I am sorry to disturb you, but…" Marley caught sight of the sketch Kurt had been working on and paused. "That is a remarkable design for a suit, Master Kurt," Marley gushed. "And is that young Mr. Crawford youve drawn it on?"

"Maybe…" Kurt answered coyly, unable to help the blush that rose to his cheeks.

"Well," she said with a knowing smile, "it is an incredible likeness, if I do say so meself. You are quite the talent."

"Marley," Kurt said, looking into the girls adoring brown eyes, "was there some reason you needed to come find me?"

Marley looked at Kurt with a blank expression, and then – remembering her purpose in seeking him out - shook her head, her long brown hair escaping her white linen cap and swaying from side to side around her cheeks.

"Oh, yes. You must come quickly and tend to your sister, sir," Marley said. "She refuses to get dressed, and his lordship will be here in no time at all."

"Oh, for heavens sake..." Kurt rose to his feet and brushed the grass from his pants. He bent to grab up his sketchbook and sighed. "Let us away then," he said, gesturing for her to lead so that he may follow. He walked down the hillside to their manor, not hurrying along, much to Marleys dismay. Kurt couldnt force himself to move any faster. He didnt want to be witness to the destruction of his sisters happiness.

Kurt heard his sisters wails long before they even reached the door.

"But, I dont want to marry him!" Rachel cried. Kurt walked into her room to see his beloved sister draped across her settee, dressed only in her chemise, her corset barely laced and hanging open at her back. She rested her forehead against her crossed arms, her chest heaving with thick, heavy sobs. "I didnt even think he liked women. Wasnt he always a right flirt to you, Kurt?"

All eyes of the maids and servants present turned to look at him, and Kurt swallowed hard. It hurt him more than he liked to confess to hear someone else admit it out loud, but he wasnt about to let it affect him so, not when his sister needed him.

Kurt had moved on from childish infatuations like the one he had harbored for Blaine Anderson.

Kurts future was with his baker, and he was glad of it.

"You know men like him, dearest - men with money and privilege. They dip their wick in anything they can get their hands on. It gets the poison out – keeps them sane. Hes probably marrying so that he can get an heir for all that money of his. Hell probably take a lover and leave you relatively be."

The comment was meant to soothe his sisters frayed nerves, but it sounded snide nonetheless.

"So you wish for me a loveless match?" Rachel blustered, turning wide, red-rimmed eyes Kurts way. "What kind of horrid creature are you? Thats it! From this day forward, you are no longer my brother!"

She buried her head back in her arms and cried all the harder. Kitty, Rachels maid, snickered behind her hand. Marley turned to her and hissed, and Kitty went back to searching the wardrobe, hiding her face behind her long golden hair.

"Shh, dearest," Kurt cooed, sitting beside his sister and putting a comforting hand to her back, "All I am saying is that you might consider finding your own…shall we say…amusements…if hes going to be allowed to have his."

When Rachel turned her face back to his, she looked even more horrified than before.

"Oh, what do you know?" Rachel whined, shaking her head of Kurts scandalous suggestions. "And besides, Finn is the only man I want, and hes too noble to even consider such an arrangement."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

In Kurts limited experience with men, he didnt know a one who was too noble to turn down unattached sex – and that included the overly-lauded Mr. Finn Hudson.

Blaine felt caged in his carriage as it ambled its way along the cobblestone path lined by hedges that led to the Hummels modest estate. The house seemed older, smaller than he remembered it, much quieter now that the joys of his youth had come to an end. Still, in the distance, on the wind as it blew even on such a still day, he could hear the echo of a young boys laugh, followed by his own.

Blaine didnt want to be here, his displeasure evident as he gripped the handle of his cane and sighed in frustration. What in the devil am I doing? he thought bitterly to himself. This is a mistake. From its inception, a terrible mistake.

Blaine looked out the carriage window again as the main house appeared fully in view. There was a feeling of comfort here, memories of good times, happier times, times when the only duty required by him was to excel in school and go to University, the probability of their fathers title falling on him nearly non-existent. That long ago joy was a feeling he couldnt afford at present. If he did indulge in the memories of his youth, if he delved into thoughts of carefree times and the boy who made those times possible, he knew he would lose himself here.

The carriage came to a stop and Blaine fortified himself against the onslaught to come.

"Look!" Kitty chirped with excitement, heedless of her mistresss distress. "Hes arrived!"

Marley rushed to the window in spite of herself, staring down at the visitor just pulled up to the house.

"Good Lord!" she exclaimed. "Look at that carriage!"

Kurt knew he should stay stalwartly by his sisters side, but he was compelled to leave her and join the young maids at the window, to get one glimpse of the boy from his past who had come to wed his sister.

Kurt had so many memories of Blaine – devilishly handsome Blaine, with his eyes of honey-gold and hair that gleamed on all occasions like polished ebony. It was no secret that almost every boy and girl from Cornwall to Northumberland was in love with Blaine Anderson, but Kurt always thought himself special in that regard, since he was convinced that Blaine could possibly love him back.

It wouldnt be the first time Kurt was wrong, and he dared say it probably wouldnt be the last.

The look of the young man stepping down from the carriage stopped Kurts heart in his chest. The beautiful face that Kurt once remembered as Blaine Anderson housed hard hazel eyes glowering with an expression Kurt didnt even recognize as his. Kurt watched the stern faced gentleman carefully. Maybe there had been some mistake.

Could there be in the whole of England another Blaine Anderson?

If Blaine felt the eyes from the window above watching him, he didnt look up to meet them.

"Does he look how you remember him, Master Kurt?" Marley asked, her eyes glued to the man in the fine coat shifting from leg to leg to loosen his tight joints - a symptom of the long drive.

"Yes, but the walking stick," Kurt remarked, "his stiff pose. Those he did not possess when I knew him. I hope he has not come down with some form of infirmity."

"I heard tis not an infirmity he suffers, sir, but a loss," Kitty answered.

Kurt huffed incredulously. Kitty always had something to say about everyone, and more often than not it got on Kurts last nerve.

"Youve been talking to those gossips again when I expressly forbade you to," Kurt scolded. "What aught have those loose-tongued ninnies told you?"

"Oh, I have heard quite an interesting tale about Lord Anderson," Kitty said, pleased to be the center of attention.

"Oh, speak plainly, Kitty," Kurt snapped, not wishing to remove his gaze from the stately young gentleman in order to address his sisters maid.

"His leg, Master Kurt," Kitty said. "Hes lost his leg."

Kurt stared at Blaine as he walked slowly toward the house, trying to ascertain any oddity in his gait.

"You cannot be serious," Kurt hissed.

"Gravely so, sir," Kitty whispered. "It seems, as I hear tell it, he was badly injured. The leg went sour, and later on, he paid a butcher to cut it off."

"Oh, Kitty," Kurt scoffed, "now I know you are truly daft. What kind of man..."

Kurt watched Blaine turn to speak to his father, walking toward the house to join him. Blaines pained limp almost confirmed Kittys tale.

Kurts mouth dropped. He couldnt imagine Blaine being in such agony. He was obviously injured, but to lose a limb? To pay a man to cut it off? Those must be stories indeed. He probably broke the leg in a riding accident and it hadnt healed up correctly.

Kurt wouldnt know the truth until his sister confirmed the story for him.

Marley looked between Kurts despondent face and Rachel lying undressed on the settee, trying to disappear into the upholstery.

"Oh, Kitty," Marley chided, "cant you be of better comfort to your mistress by doing something other than gossiping?"

Kitty turned and stuck her tongue out at Marley, but Marley shut her down with a piercing stare.

"Uh, yes," Kitty said, backing away from the window. "I am quite sorry, mistress." Kitty knelt down to try and catch Rachels eyes. "We have to make you beautiful and blushing, mistress, and your face is redder than a radish."

Marley left her masters side by the window when she heard Kittys pathetic excuse at persuasion.

"Miss Rachel?" Marley begged. "Please, pick out a gown. Your father wanted you ready before his lordship arrived, and now we are running behind."

"I dont care," Rachel blubbered. "Throw me into anything you want. Find me a potato sack and stuff me in it. Then…then tie the top and toss it in the river till I drown. I wont marry him!"

"Oh, Ill do it," Kurt said, climbing away from the window when his father led Blaine completely inside. "And do quiet down, Rachel. The whole house will hear and youll humiliate father."

"I dont care," she continued to mutter. "I dont care who hears. Let them all know that my life is over."

Kurt threw open the wardrobe and looked at the array of dresses hanging.

"Which one were you thinking, Master Kurt?" Marley asked, shuddering when Rachel let out a particularly unladylike moan. "The lilac satin? The persimmon silk?"

"I think…" Kurt stepped away from the wardrobe, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room. Rachel lifted her head out of curiosity, and the three women watched him in silence, with quizzical looks on their faces. When he returned, he was carrying a dress of dazzling magnificence, glimmering in hues of soft pink and gold, hand beaded down the front in a way that was elegant and not gaudy.

Marley gasped. Kittys jaw dropped. Rachel rose from her seat and walked toward her brother, possessed.

"Where in the world…"

"I made it," Kurt said proudly. "I had hoped it would be a birthday present, before…well, before all of this." Rachel ran a delicate hand down the length of the skirt, her fingers outlining the swirling design of flowers formed by beads and embroidered thread. "The fabric belonged to mother, as did the beads," Kurt said. "Who knows? Maybe it will bring you luck."

"Oh, Kurt," Rachel cried, throwing her hands up to cover her trembling lips. "Its gorgeous. I…I dont know what to say."

Kurt handed the dress over to Marley and wrapped his arms around his sister, holding her for the first time since the start of this tragic debacle.

"I only wish this dress could bring you what you want," Kurt said into his sisters loose curls. "I wish it could bring you happiness."

"Oh, Kurt," she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks and staining her brothers shirt, though for once, he did not mind, "I dont think that I shall ever be happy again."