Shopping was not a favorite past time of Blaine's whatsoever. He couldn't recall the last time he had stepped into a readymade shop. When he needed new clothes, he hired a tailor to come to the house and fit him. He'd been using the same man for the job most of his life – the same tailor his father had in his employ now made suits for Blaine.

He wondered, in passing, what he would have to do to convince Kurt to fashion an original suit for him.

Aside from clothes, anything else that he needed he ordered and had delivered. Done and done. He had decided to accompany Kurt on this excursion because he longed to show his husband that he supported his interests – the way Sebastian had recommended. One of Kurts interests was fashion, and fashion meant shopping, ergo here Blaine was in a readymade shop while Kurt shopped for Beth.

Beth.

The thing that Blaine thought this morning would destroy their marriage had quickly become Kurt's newest passion.

Blaine had never seen Kurt shop before, but watching him in action, Blaine stood absolutely in awe of him – and out of his path, which was by far the safest place to be. Kurt was in his element and he was a force to be reckoned with.

Kurt moved swiftly about the shop with the grace of a gazelle. He knew exactly what he wanted. Even more impressively, he never paid the ticket price for anything. As Kurt commanded the room at some of the most exclusive boutiques in London, sales women and merchants actually feared him.

"No," Kurt said as a timid woman showed him a dress, "I want the green not the blue. It needs to match her eyes. And dont even think of charging me full price. I know thats from last season."

"Well take the riding boots in calf skin, and three pairs of the sturdy leather. My girl must be able to run when she wants to..."

"Make that seven bolts of the linen, one in every color, and the lace to go with it - the HANDMADE lace, not that new-fangled stuff. And if your boy drops it when he delivers it, Ill come back for your head!"

Thats how it went, store after store, until a full wardrobe was ordered, bolts of fabric sent ahead to the manor, and a small box - packed with a nightgown, a jumper, and several books - nestled underneath Kurts arm.

Kurt was in the midst of signing the bill when he spotted Blaine in a far corner of the shop, transfixed by a toy doll. It wasnt a China doll, as was the rage with girls Beth's age, but a cloth doll with long blonde hair made of finely spun yarn, a soft, hand-painted face, and vibrant green eyes.

Kurt walked up behind his husband, mesmerized by his solemn eyes and unsteady hands.

"I was thinking she should have a doll." Blaine looked at the doll with a wistful expression. "You know, to play with, and to sleep with...to hug…"

Blaine talked to the doll as if Kurt wasnt even standing there beside him. He gently touched her velvet dress and her tiny cotton apron, but it was her face that held his attention. When Blaine finally turned to look at Kurt, there was the faintest hint of tears in his eyes.

"Do you think she will like it?" Blaines voice broke between decision and uncertainty. "Little girls like dolls, right?"

Kurt picked up the doll, treating it like it was the most precious thing he had ever seen – and it was when he saw it through Blaine's eyes. Kurt smiled.

"I think she will love it, my lord."

Kurt turned to the salesgirl, who stood shivering at whatever words would next come out of Kurts mouth. He handed her the doll and said, "We will be taking this as well. Please wrap her immediately. Maybe in some fancy paper? With a bow?"

The girl was shocked by Kurts change in demeanor. She smiled meekly, gave Kurt and Blaine a small bow, took the doll, and walked away.

Kurt watched Blaine eye the girl who walked away with the doll. Kurt took his husbands arm and held it tight, lightly resting his head on Blaines shoulder. The world stopped for Blaine for a moment as he enjoyed the warmth seeping through his body at Kurts touch.

"Arent you going to haggle, my love?" Blaine asked, confounded by Kurt as well.

"No, my lord,” Kurt said, shaking his head, "for gifts from the heart, we pay full price."

The walk back to the manor took longer than the walk from, with Blaine's hip acting up on him. The freezing air whistled around them, chilling them straight through their coats to the skin. They had been on their feet for a while, walking the uneven road, and Blaine couldn't wait to be warm in his bed again.

But he didn't regret a minute of his shopping adventure with Kurt.

Blaine wanted to let Kurt know that he didn't need Blaine's permission to go shopping, or spend money the way he pleased. Blaine trusted Kurt with everything – whatever Blaine had belonged to Kurt now, too.

But if he did, Kurt might not invite him out on his next escapade, and Blaine didn't want to miss it.

Kurt held on to the box of clothes and books, and Blaine held on to the prettily wrapped package that contained the doll, but they also held on to each other - arm in arm, matching their paces.

Blaine looked around at the empty road they walked. Only a few other couples were out braving the cold on foot. He spied another young couple walking opposite them, arm in arm, talking close together, their breath combining into a single cloud of fog in front of their faces. Blaine looked at the couple for longer than acceptable, but one of the men in that happy twosome seemed so familiar to him…

The man raised his head and laughed, blond hair sticking out from beneath his red knitted cap.

Blaine tugged on Kurt's arm when he finally placed him.

“Is that…Mr. Crawford, my love?” Blaine asked in an ineffective whisper since three people near them turned to look. “Your Mr. Crawford?”

Kurt peeked around Blaine's body and shrugged.

“Yes, I believe it is, my lord,” Kurt replied. “And he is not my Mr. Crawford.”

“Well, he's somebody's Mr. Crawford, to be sure,” Blaine said. Kurt looked at his husband, who stared more at the couple hurrying into a storefront not too far away. He also noticed that Blaine had pulled his scarf loose with all of his spying.

“Yes, my lord,” Kurt said, stopping Blaine to re-tuck the ends of his scarf inside his coat. “Rachel wrote and told me about it weeks ago.”

“Weeks ago?” Blaine asked. “How long ago is weeks ago?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Kurt said. “They got engaged a month after we got married, I suppose. They moved to London and opened a bakery.” Kurt looked along the avenue. “I believe it is around here somewhere if I remember rightly.”

Kurt finished tucking the final tail of Blaine's scarf and made to continue on their way, but Blaine stopped him.

“Why did you not tell me?”

“I did not think it would interest you, my lord,” Kurt said honestly. He didn't think it would interest Blaine. It barely interested him.

“Of course, it interests me, my love,” Blaine said. “How do you feel about all this?”

Kurt found it strange that Blaine should be so concerned about the matter of Mr. Crawford and his fiance, not even where it involved Kurt – which it did not.

Kurt had a husband and a life. He was finding ways to be happy.

If Kurt could just see through to the heart of the man standing in front of him, life would be so much simpler.

“Did you have a wish to stop into the bakery, my love?” Blaine asked. “Maybe wish them well?”

“It is late, my lord,” Kurt said, “and I am cold. I want to check in on Beth. I'm sure the bakery will be there in the morning. Unless…” Kurt closed the gap to talk softly to his husband, “are you in the mood for something sweet, my lord?”

“Yes, I am, husband,” Blaine said, a devious grin starting on his lips, “but the sweet thing I hunger for is not something that can be bought.”

“Then maybe we should get home, my lord,” Kurt said, “and I can help find that for you.”

“I think that indeed you would be most helpful in that regard,” Blaine smirked.

Kurt held Blaine's arm tight and tugged him in the direction of home.

A block from the manor, Kurt saw a young boy with brown hair racing through the streets, headed their way.

"Milord!" the boy called hurriedly. "I have been sent to tell you to come home quickly!"

"Thank you, boy," Kurt said, handing him a coin and watching him scurry off. Kurt turned his worried eyes to his husband.

"Do you think you can walk a little faster, my darling?"

Blaine warmed at the affection in Kurts voice. My darling. At that moment, if Kurt had asked, Blaine would have run the whole continent and back.

"Of course," Blaine replied.

Kurt supported his husband as much as possible on the slippery road as they raced at a faster clip for home.

The moment they stepped through the door, they heard Marley's voice.

"Oh, thank God you are here, milord," she said, nearly flying down the stairs. "The poor girl woke up screaming but she will not let me help her. She only wants you."

Blaine nodded, handing Kurt the doll, his cane, and his hat. The maids eyes shifted uncomfortably as she offered a curt bow.

"Begging your pardon, milord, but I meant the other…milord."

Kurt was hanging his husbands coat when he heard his maid speak. He exchanged a sheepish look with Blaine while he handed his husband his cane and ran up the steps, coat still on, packages tucked under his arms. Blaine could hear his voice carry from upstairs - his sweet cooing as he spoke to Beth.

Blaine made his way up the stairs slowly, his joints creaking as much as the wooden stairs beneath his feet.

"Oh, my poor darling." Blaine heard Kurts voice comforting the whimpering girl. Kurt had carried her into his own room and was lying with her in his bed. "Now, you must tell me everything you dreamt, and leave nothing out."

The nurse stormed in after them, furious at being circumvented.

"But, milord," the woman said in a condescending manner, her voice straining to stay calm, her thin body fit to bursting with lectures about child rearing and uppity I told you so's, "you will spoil her if you treat her like this!"

When she spoke to Kurt, the tone of her voice amazed Blaine. How dare she speak to his husband that way? Blaine gripped his cane tightly, preparing to bound into the room and defend him when Kurt spoke.

"And I told you to leave the lamp lit, you horrible witch!" Kurts pale complexion flushed scarlet with rage, but his eyes glowed a cool, infuriated blue.

"If you coddle her," the woman pressed, "she will feel important."

Blaine caught a glimpse of Beth, or more accurately Beths dark curls, as she hid her head in Kurts shirt, her small body still visibly shaking.

"Now thats the only thing youve said so far that I agree with!" Blaine was overwhelmed by the fury in Kurts voice. Even when Kurt had raised his voice at him, he didn't sound half so terrifying. "I want her to feel important!"

"Begging your pardon, milord, but you will raise her to be a brat."

Blaine winced as if he had been slapped.

"Of course you would grow up to be a fag!” the unforgiving voice of his father rang in his ears. “You were always such a simpering brat! Riding on your brother's coattails. Can't even wipe your own ass without him."

"And you have no business around children, you heartless hag!” Blaine caught Kurt's words as the memory of his father's voice dissolved into the swell of Kurt's tirade. “You are dismissed, madam! Effective immediately!"

"Begging your pardon..."

"Oh, I will beg your pardon, indeed,” Kurt roared, “if you are not out of this house in the next ten seconds, I will personally get out of this bed and beat you with my husbands cane!"

Blaine gripped his cane in his hand, a smile blooming along with an intoxicating rise of color on his face.

"B-but… its the middle of the night!" the woman stammered. “And it must be below freezing!”

Kurt had threatened to get up, but he couldnt with Beth in his arms, so he grabbed a book from his bedside and tossed it with tremendous force right at the nurses head. Blaine stifled a laugh as she gasped, ducking out of the way. The woman shot from the room like a bullet, nearly running into Blaine in the process. Blaine heard Kurt go back to his cooing over Beth.

"There, there, dearest," Kurt said, "that nasty, awful woman is gone, and now its just you and me."

The nurse saw Blaine standing in the doorway, and a look of relief flooded her face.

"Thank heavens!" she cried. "I need to speak with you, milord. That man …"

"Is my husband," Blaine said proudly, "and he told you to get out. Now are you going to do that, or do I hand him my cane?" Blaine lifted the carved wooden stick, shaking it toward the nurse for emphasis. The woman shrank back with a squeal and ran to her room.

Blaine saw her again several minutes later with her bag in hand, a pair of thick shoes thrown haphazardly on her feet, and a long coat covering her gown. She mumbled heartily under her breath, but the only words Blaine could hear clearly were crazy, brat, and lunatic. Marley held the door open for her without being asked, and when the woman turned to call out the last of her insulting farewells, the maid slammed the door in her face, brushing her hands together, and walking away with her nose in the air.

Blaine laughed, eager to tell his husband all about it, but he stood outside Kurt's bedroom, the crack of the door as far as he dare go.

Blaine wanted to go into the room, to sit at the edge of the bed and listen as Kurt read Beth story after story, told her jokes and sang her songs until the giggling girl drifted off to sleep, but Blaine felt like an intruder. Besides, as much as he wanted to be near her, the pain of losing her mother was still too fresh, and in the end, he stood and watched at the doorway for nearly an hour, aware of the curious expressions of the servants as they walked through the hallways to light the fireplaces and turn down the beds.

Eventually, Blaine retreated back down the stairs to his office, where he continued, half-heartedly, to balance his ledger.

When Blaine opened his eyes, the flame in his lantern was flickering and threatening to burn out. Blaine rubbed his bleary eyes and ran a hand through his messy hair, his palm coming to rest on his crimped neck. He looked at his pocket watch. It was long past midnight. Blaine made his way slowly up the stairs, his stiff joints informing him that there would be rain on the morrow. The door to Kurts room was left ajar, a brilliant light spilling out into the hallway from within. Blaine peeked inside, careful not to disturb the quiet atmosphere. There the two lay, Kurts muscular arms wrapped around the waifish little girl, but what made Blaine smile was that Kurt had managed to have the maids bring up nearly every lamp in the house.

Blaine sighed. He had been wrong. He had underestimated Kurt. In a way, he had even set him up to fail, but Kurt had risen to the challenge. Blaine missed Kurt. So much of the time they had together had already been lost because of Blaine's vanity. He wanted to lay with Kurt in that bed, safe in his husbands arms, feeling his sleeping chest rise as he breathed, his soft chestnut hair resting against his cheek.

Blaine wanted that life, and he wanted it to start now.

Blaine began moving the lamps one by one into the adjoining room, until the smaller bedchamber was flooded with light, and his husbands room became solemn and dark.

Then Blaine collected the small girl from his husband's embrace. Once he managed to pry her from Kurts arms, Blaine saw two things that nearly broke his heart. First of all, Beth was dressed in one of Kurts best every day shirts since she didnt have a nightgown of her own when she arrived. The other was the doll, which she held tightly in her arms. He lifted the girl carefully. He choked on a breath; she weighed no more than a bundle of twigs. It took him a moment to get his balance, but once he did, he managed to limp with the girl to her room. He tucked her into bed and kissed her on the forehead.

Blaine took a moment to look at her, arms still locked around the blonde-haired doll, face peaceful, long lashes resting against her cheek. Just like her mother, Blaine thought, except for the hair. The hair definitely looked like his - wild and curly, black as pitch. Her curls shone like glass in the candlelight. Blaine smirked. Kurt must have put the pomade he used in his own hair on the girls curls.

The nurse was right. Kurt was going to spoil her.

Spoil her with love, which was the best kind of spoiled.

It was the kind of spoiled his brother had been, and that Blaine had always wanted.

Blaine kissed the sleeping childs forehead again and retreated quietly into the next room, closing the door but leaving it open a crack. Then he left a single lantern glowing in the doorway in case Beth needed to come in to see Kurt.

His Kurt…his husband.

Blaine looked at the man lying in the bed. Kurts lithe body had turned and the shadows from the single lamp stretched across his pale face. In sleep, he looked so much younger than his 22 years. His smooth face glowed in the light and Blaine longed to touch him, to run his fingertips down his cheek.

Kurt was still fully dressed in all but his shoes, which he had kicked off at the end of the bed.

Blaine approached the bed and sat on the end. He took Kurts hand in his and held it, the fingers curling slightly in unconscious response to Blaine's touch. Blaines breath stuttered. His heart hurt. He was so full of regret for all of the things he had done to this boy. He selfishly took him from his family and a man who loved him, stole his virtue, and treated him with unkindness.

Blaine needed to fix this. He needed to make things right.

Blaine removed Kurts stockings. He found a bottle of rose water beside Kurts bed, put a generous amount in his palm, and gently rubbed his husbands feet. When he looked back up at Kurts face, sleepy blue eyes looked back.

“Hello, my lord,” Kurt whispered.

“Hello, my love,” Blaine said.

"Where is Beth?"

"I put her to bed." Blaine tucked the blankets around Kurts body, admiring the smooth column of Kurts neck.

A tiny bruise would look beautiful right there, Blaine thought, if only I could put my mouth to it.

"And the lamps, my lord?"

"I put them in her room for her."

Kurt nodded, his eyes fluttering shut again.

"Kurt?" Blaine stopped him, trying to catch an opportunity that he saw slipping through his fingers. "Kurt...I want to thank you...for everything you are doing for Beth."

Kurt smiled, but then he frowned.

"So youre not going to spank me?"

Blaine chuckled, furrowing his brow.

"Whatever for?"

"For firing the nurse,” Kurt explained. “The one you hired."

"No, Kurt." Blaine kissed Kurt chastely on the lips. "No, I wont."

"Hmm," Kurt murmured.

"What?"

"Well, I was wishing you would."

Blaine laughed. It was a foreign sound to Kurts ears, but it was beautiful.

"Kurt?" Blaines voice forced Kurts eyes open once again.

"Yes, my lord?"

"If...may I...sleep in here?” Blaine asked, his words disjointed. “And would you hold me?"

Kurts lips curled into a gentle smile.

"Of course, husband," he said, scooting over to give his husband ease to climb onto the bed. Blaine stripped down to his undershirt and pants and climbed into bed, fidgeting with his leg to try and get it to rest comfortably on the mattress.

“You can…take it off,” Kurt said, watching his husband struggle. Blaine's eyes looked troubled, but Kurt put a hand on his. “I promise, I will not look while you do it.” Kurt held Blaine's gaze then rolled onto his side, facing toward the wall and closing his eyes.

Blaine wasn't ready – he just wasn't ready for this step – but he needed to sleep beside his husband more than he needed this false limb to make him feel whole.

Because Kurt made him feel whole.

Blaine took off his pants and removed the false leg, undoing the leather straps and bindings, the metal buckles jingling loudly as Blaine's fingers slipped. He took the fake limb off and looked at his leg briefly. He made it a point to ignore the stump of his severed leg, but now he looked at it, wondering how Kurt would react if he saw it.

When he saw it.

He couldn't keep it hidden from his husband forever.

Blaine set the prosthetic aside and slipped his pants back on, tying a knot in the loose fabric so it didn't catch and tug his pants off while he slept.

He tucked himself in beside Kurt on the bed, and Kurt rolled back around to meet him.

“Everything all right, my lord?” Kurt asked. Blaine nodded, pulling the covers up beneath his chin.

“It is now, my love,” Blaine said, letting Kurt envelope him in his arms. Blaine relaxed back against Kurt's chest, dropping his head to Kurt's shoulder.

“Good-night, Blaine,” Kurt said, placing a kiss in Blaine's curls.

“Good-night, Kurt,” Blaine said in reply.

A soft drizzle of icy rain started to pound the roof of the manor, lulling Kurt immediately to sleep with its rhythmic song.

And Blaine - fighting sleep to have a few precious moments longer - gazed up at Kurt's sleeping face and mouthed the words I love you into the darkness.