Kurt was becoming spoiled, and he knew it.

He slept infinitely better now that he did so with his husband's naked body snaked around his own – no boundaries, no borders, nothing hidden. Blaine's skin was smooth and his body warm, and his favorite place in the world seemed to be by his husband's side with his head resting on Kurt's chest.

Blaine still had pain in his joints (Kurt had yet to find an opportunity to abscond with Blaine's false leg and fix the straps for him), but Kurt was satisfied with the knowledge that his husband found comfort in him – whether it came from sleeping together, wrapped around each other like vines, from Kurt's soothing touch as he massaged Blaine's skin, or from making love the way they did every night, with Kurt atop his husband's body, staring into his eyes.

Beth slept through the night on her own, so they had little to worry that she would sneak into bed with them while they were indecent, but being the polite girl she was, she always knocked anyway.

Kurt had started to love his life – this happy world that had blossomed around him while he had stood in the center, rebelling so hard against it. Kurt learned that life thrives in conflict and struggles against adverse conditions to survive…as does love.

Kurt loved Beth – loved her more than his own life.

And Kurt loved Blaine.

He had loved Blaine once, so he knew it was possible, but he had entered into this marriage detesting the man Blaine had become – a man that Kurt scarcely knew. Learning to love this new Blaine made being in love with him all the more sweet.

But perhaps he had loved Blaine all along, he was just too…how had Blaine put it?…pigheaded to realize it.

No matter. He was at a place where he could confidently say that he loved his husband, loved him fully and completely, loved him in life and death, loved him with all of his heart.

He just had to figure out a way to tell him.

There was, of course, the matter of whether or not Blaine loved him back. It seemed he did. He implied it every day. He called Kurt his love, but the words I love you had yet to be declared.

That didn't mean that Kurt couldn't say it first, of course, but Kurt wanted it to be special. He wanted to do it during a time and at a place that would add the appropriate amount of gravitas to the words. Maybe that shouldn't matter, as long as the sentiment was expressed, but when Kurt daydreamed about telling Blaine he loved him for the first time, it wasn't someplace common like the dining room table.

“What exquisite ham we are having for breakfast! I love you. Can you please pass the custard?”

No.

He could say it here, in their bedroom – this sanctuary they had created - after making love, while they lay together in bed. He could say it while holding Blaine in his arms, say it till his tongue went dry from overuse and his voice faded in his throat. But for the moment, Blaine was asleep – completely exhausted from the previous day's jaunt.

A picnic in the park with Beth – a picnic that Blaine attended.

It didn't start out too encouragingly.

Blaine held himself stiffly, looking extremely uncomfortable, and poor little Beth didn't know how to talk to him, so each glued themselves to one side of Kurt and didn't readily acknowledge the other's presence past a simple civil hello.

Kurt knew that Blaine would not get over his reluctance unless he was pushed, and though it hurt his heart to do it to him, Kurt pretended he had forgotten something at the manor and left the two alone while he went for a walk.

Kurt considered all the possible outcomes in his head while he took a turn around the green grass and the trees. He had no idea how long it would take to cultivate a relationship between the two, as resistant as Blaine seemed to the occupation of guardian. Days? Weeks? Months?

The best he could hope for upon his return was that both would still be there when he arrived.

But he needn't have worried, because for all of Blaine's concerns about his abilities as a parent, he discounted the one thing that could have helped him all along – the fact that he and Beth had a tremendous amount in common, starting with all of the people in their lives that they loved.

Kurt didn't know exactly what transpired during the time he was gone, and with identical sly smiles both Blaine and Beth refused to tell, claiming that it was their secret, but they were singing when he returned and Beth was dancing, twirling in place till her skirts billowed out like a balloon, looking as though a swift breeze might steal her away if they weren't careful.

They stayed out late and enjoyed every last inch of sunlight the day had to offer. Beth held Blaine's hand on the walk home, helping him avoid cracks in the stones and potholes when they popped up. Both father and daughter yawned all throughout dinner. Kurt started to fear that he wouldn't have his husband that night, as tired as he seemed. They both tucked Beth in, and Blaine read her a story, after which, an elated Blaine dragged Kurt to bed, smiling and laughing, claiming Kurt's mouth and his body, incandescently happy.

Blaine was asleep with that incandescent smile fixed to his face, and Kurt would love nothing more than to spend the day in bed with him, but he had already arranged an outing for Beth, and he could not cancel.

There was also another thing – something Kurt was certain that Blaine would not object to, something that he wanted to do for himself, to prove that he had put his past behind him and was sincerely ready to jump with both feet into his beautiful new future.

The process of extracting himself from his husband's body was excruciatingly time consuming, but hilarious as well. Once he had successfully removed a limb of Blaine's from around his person, it would wind around him somewhere else. At a point when he thought he would finally be able to break away, Blaine muttered and whined, sounding remarkably like a two-year-old, then lashed out both arms and grabbed Kurt again. Eventually Kurt had to resort to carefully tickling Blaine beneath both arms until he scooted far enough away from Kurt for him to spring out of bed and be free, but he felt guilty that his husband had no one to hold on to, so he wrapped Blaine's arm around his pillow, leaving Blaine with the comfort of his scent.

Kurt dressed quickly in one of the finer day suits he had designed and made, as the day seemed to warrant it. He looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror and smiled. If Blaine were awake, Kurt would not be dressed in this suit for long. The material was soft to the touch and a deep shade of blue.

Blaine adored him in blue.

Kurt straightened his ascot, tamed a few stray hairs on his head, and declared himself to be dressed. Happy with his appearance, he peeked into Beth's room to rouse her, but the girl was already out of bed. Kurt looked his last at his snoozing husband, amazed at how young he looked in sleep, how untroubled. Kurt prayed for that for him all of the time – more days carefree than full of strife. Kurt had a long and busy day ahead of him, but he found himself wishing it away, eager for the evening when he would get to revel in Blaine's touch and the feel of strong arms around him.

Kurt blew the sleeping man a kiss, then headed downstairs to find his little girl.

“Beth!” Kurt called as he walked through the lower level of the manor. “Beth, darling!”

He had yet to see a curl of her hair, but he heard a cascade of footsteps following him when he walked, along with a flurry of muffled giggles every time he stopped. He caught Marley's eye as she made her way to the kitchen carrying a stack of dirty dishes, pinching her lips between her teeth to keep from laughing.

“Marley,” Kurt called to his maid in a sing-song voice, “have you seen young Miss Beth this morning?”

Kurt heard more giggles and almost broke into laughter himself.

Marley paused, her cheeks turning red, but she put on a straight face and gazed thoughtfully toward the ceiling.

“You know, now that you mention it, milord, I have not,” Marley answered back.

More giggles, louder this time, not even taking the effort to be hushed.

“That is so strange,” Kurt said. He turned to one side slowly, but his every step was followed, the girl in the lavender dress keeping herself cleverly concealed behind his body with every step he took.

“What is strange, milord?” Marley asked, enjoying herself too much to care at all if the plates she was carrying ever made it to the kitchen or not.

“Well, I thought I had a little girl,” he said, walking in a circle in the opposite direction, the tiny footfalls keeping pace, even when he moved quicker. “With pretty raven curls…” He spun quickly around, almost catching the swing of her skirt, but she managed to fly behind him. “…wearing her new lavender dress…” He spun in the opposite direction, but the girl, choking on unrestrained laughter, slid around his back, almost losing control and getting caught. The plates in Marley's hands clattered together as she began to laugh, watching Kurt spin in circles while the girl behind him raced back and forth trying not to be seen.

Finally, he stopped, shifting his eyes left and right. The giggles behind him grew in anticipation of his next move when suddenly Kurt reached his arms out backward and grabbed the girl by the hands. She chirped in surprise, and then laughed out loud heartily – a far different sound than the hollow laugh she brought with her from the orphanage when she barely had any meat on her bones.

“You found me, milord!” she cried with delight.

“I did,” Kurt said, taking a knee and tickling her to hear her laugh out the louder. “But you didn't make it easy on me.”

“I was not trying to!” She hopped away on sturdy black leather boots and Kurt took a moment to admire what a dainty little lady she appeared.

Kurt stood, brushing off his knees, and offered Beth his hand.

“Will you be out, milord?” Marley asked as the two made their way back through the manor.

“We will,” Kurt called over his shoulder. “Please do not disturb his lordship, but let him know I am out as soon as he wakes.”

“Yes, milord,” her voice echoed as they walked toward the front door.

“What shall we do today, milord?” Beth asked.

“Oh, I have in mind a great many number of things, my little love,” Kurt said cheerfully, handing the girl her white gloves. “I thought a walk in the park, maybe lunch with Lady de Bourg and her son…” Kurt wiggled his eyebrows and Beth rolled her eyes. Kurt refused to play match maker, especially to so young a child, but it couldn't be overlooked that a match with the de Bourg's would be a favorable one. However, tucked away in a dark recess of his mind, the Kurt from his life before Blaine and before titles scowled at how easily he'd begun to blend in with the aristocrats. “But first, I thought we'd go out for a pasty. There's a bakery I've been longing to try…” Kurt helped Beth on with her coat, doing up the buttons as he spoke, “and it would be a good opportunity to surprise his lordship with a loaf of his favorite bread…and maybe a cookie or two.”

“Or four?” Beth put in, pulling her long curls out from her collar, and Kurt laughed.

“Or a dozen,” Kurt added, pulling on his coat and top hat.

Kurt took Beth's hand and smiled as the butler opened the door for them. They stepped out into the brisk morning air. Kurt inhaled deep and sighed, his breath issuing from his mouth in a white cloud – like that couple Blaine had pointed out to him the other night.

Adam and his fiance.

What Kurt had told Blaine – that he hadn't mentioned the engagement when he first heard of it because he didn't think his husband would be interested - was true. But he also didn't want to admit that the news had stung him a little – not so much his heart, but his pride.

Adam had once looked upon Kurt as if he were the most enchanting person to ever walk the planet. He complimented him constantly, hung on every word he spoke. That kind of adoration is infectious. Kurt was certain it could turn into love if he let it. But to hear that this man could switch his affections so easily from one person to another was a bruise to Kurt's ego that he was too embarrassed to admit to.

Though no amount of mooneyes from Adam could compare with the way Blaine looked upon Kurt – as if the light of creation dawned every morning in his eyes, and a single command from his lips would pull the stars from the sky.

Kurt knew he'd have to get this reunion over with sooner or later. It was adolescent to exist in such close vicinity to one another and behave like the other didn't exist. Kurt was no longer in any danger of losing himself now over the fickle affections of Adam Crawford, especially since the object of Kurt's affections had changed as well, and had solidified into something grander than he could ever imagine.

Still, to play things safe, he brought Beth along with him so that he could prove to his husband that he had broken no vow…just in case that sort of assurance was necessary.

Kurt hated to admit to jealousy, but if the roles were reversed, such assurance would have been necessary for him.

“So, we will go to the bakery first,” Kurt said, walking down the steps with Beth skipping along behind him, “and then work our way from there.”

“Okay,” she sang, occupying herself with staring up at the clouds as she walked while Kurt kept a tight hold on her hand to keep her safe.

It was only a bit after nine o'clock, but the square bustled with life. Kurt tried to see above the heads of the crowd and noticed several jugglers entertaining passersby. Along with them was a man in a suit walking a bear cub on the end of a chain. The animal stood on two legs like a human and wore a bright pink tutu around its middle. The sound of the animal huffing caught Beth's attention, and she hopped up and down on the balls of her feet to get a better look.

“What is it, milord? What is it?” she squealed when she caught a glimpse of the bear's black fur in the spaces between oglers.

“I don't know, my love,” Kurt answered. “But it might be that the circus has come to town.”

“The circus!” she cheered. “Oh, I do love a circus!”

“Do you now?” Kurt asked, smiling at the fidgety little girl walking obediently beside him while still trying to watch the jugglers throw their pins in the air.

“Oh, yes,” she said, then she frowned slightly. “Well, I've never actually been to a circus, but I've seen posters, and I saw an acrobat once.”

“Well, maybe we can get his lordship to take us while the circus is in town. Would you enjoy that?”

“Would I?” Beth's eyes lit up and she smiled so brightly that Kurt thought her face might crack straight down the middle just so she would have room to smile some more.

 “I'll take that to mean yes,” Kurt laughed.

He found the store front he was searching for, and while Beth stood and watched the jugglers from afar, Kurt took a moment to watch the familiar man with the blond hair set cakes up on pedestals in the quaint shop. Kurt smiled as he watched the expression of intense concentration cross his face that Kurt always took for genius in the making. He still did, but it affects him in a much different way now.

“Come along, my little love,” Kurt said, opening the door and walking Beth inside the shop.

Adam looked up from his cake to greet his customers as Kurt took off his hat. Adam smiled, then furrowed his brow, then smiled even wider when he realized who was standing before him.

“Kurt!” he said hastily, and then he blushed. “I mean, Lord Kurt…or Lord Hummel…or…Count…Hummel?”

Kurt chuckled lightly at Adam's adorable look of confusion.

“It's Lord Anderson, actually,” Kurt corrected him, “unless my husband is near, then people refer to me as Count Anderson. Otherwise it gets confusing.”

“Yes, I see how that would be confusing…uh, milord,” Adam said, nodding, staring at Kurt with conflicted blue eyes.

It used to be that stare would make Kurt blush all over his body, but that feeling was gone, along with the racing heartbeat in his chest and fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

“This is my daughter, Beth,” Kurt said, turning the girl whose green eyes were gawking at a basket full to the brim with cookies.

“I know,” Adam said brightly, addressing Beth. “How do you do, Miss Beth?”

“I am well, thank you,” she said with a curtsy.

Kurt furrowed his brow.

“I saw the article in the paper,” Adam explained, inferring the question in Kurt's expression. “I was going to come by and call, but…”

“But?” Kurt asked.

Adam bit his lip, staring down at his flour-dusty shoes, scuffing the toe of one on the floor as was his habit.

“Honestly, I didn't know what to say, milord.”

Kurt nodded. He understood. Had he taken three more weeks and planned it to the letter, Kurt would be no more prepared for this meeting than he was at the moment.

“My sister told me of your engagement,” Kurt continued, veering the conversation to easier topics. “Are you excited?”

“Ever so, milord,” Adam exhaled, a dreamy look entering his eyes for a flash as thoughts of his fiance crossed his mind. It warmed Kurt to see Adam so happy. He deserved it.

“Well, I wish you much joy,” Kurt said, reaching out to shake Adam's hand.

Adam looked at Kurt's gloved hand a moment.

“Is that allowed, milord?” Adam asked.

“I think this time I can make an exception,” Kurt said with a wink.

Adam took the offered hand and shook it.

“Thank you, milord,” he said. “I'll be sure to send you a piece of the cake.”

“Please do,” Kurt said.

Adam let go of Kurt's hand, and Kurt rested it on Beth's bony shoulder.

“And…you, milord?” Adam asked. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” Kurt said without needing to think over the question first. “Very happy. I promise.”

“Splendid,” Adam said, clapping his hands in front of him. “So, was there anything that you and the young miss will be needing this morning, milord?”

“Yes, actually,” Kurt said, a weight off his heart lifting at the thought that he and Adam had parted as friends, “we were hoping to get a couple of pasties, if you have any made.”

“I do indeed, milord,” Adam said, directing Kurt and Beth to the opposite end of the shop where a collection of baked pastries sat underneath a glass dome.

“Wonderful,” Kurt said. “We'll have two of those to go. We're enjoying a walking breakfast this morning.”

“I see,” Adam said. “Well, today is a good day for it, milord. It's a might chilly, but it is quite fine out.”

“The bread?” Beth whispered, pulling on the tail of Kurt's coat.

“Yes, yes, I was just getting to that, my love,” Kurt said to the distracted little girl, whose eyes danced between the basket of cookies and the jugglers outside. “We'll also need a loaf of salt rising bread.”

“Or course, milord.”

“The cookies,” Beth hissed in an attempt at being covert.

Kurt rolled his eyes fondly and Adam laughed.

“Let me guess, milord,” he said, “will you be wanting any cookies today?”

“A dozen, yes,” Kurt said.”

“Any kind in particular?”

Kurt waited to see if Beth had anything to say on the matter, but confident that the ordering had been properly done, she continued to watch the activity outside and ignore the two adults beside her.

“I guess not,” Kurt said, shaking his head. “Just pick twelve of your favorites for me, please.”

“Yes, milord.”

“Oh, do you have a boy who can deliver it?” Kurt asked. “We are not going straight back to the manor, I'm afraid, and I don't want it to get cold.”

“I'll have that done for you straight away, milord,” Adam said, offering Kurt a bow.

“I am much obliged to you, Mr. Crawford,” Kurt said, taking the bill from Adam and signing his name at the bottom. Kurt turned it back over, watching Adam set the order aside.

“It has been lovely seeing you again,” Kurt said. “Truly. I wish you so much joy.”

Adam's smile was small and wistful, but Kurt could see that Adam harbored no regrets, and it made Kurt's soul glad.

“And to you too, milord.”

Adam offered Kurt a bow, and Kurt bowed back.

“Say thank you to Mr. Crawford, Beth,” Kurt said, tapping Beth lightly on the shoulder. She turned her beaming smile on the baker.

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a curtsy.

Adam bowed low to the smiling girl, and she giggled, ducking her head and hiding her laugh behind her hands.

Kurt took his daughter's hand and, with a wave, led her from the shop. He opened the door to usher her out, put on his hat, stepped onto the avenue, and didn't look back.

“Milord,” Beth said when they started to walk away, “may I ask you a question?”

“You may,” Kurt said, holding his head high and keeping her hand tight in his. There was now a great crowd gathering as more performers arrived, and Kurt was not too fond of public crowds like this.

“Do you think…” she started, staring down at her shoes as she spoke, “that maybe you could help me get Lord Anderson a gift? To thank him for all the kindness he's shown to me?”

Kurt looked down as Beth looked up.

“I could work to pay you back somehow, milord,” she said, hoping that her question didn't sound demanding or impertinent. But Kurt smiled at Beth, and Kurt's smiles always spoke volumes where Beth was involved.

“I think that would be lovely,” Kurt said. “Did you have anything special in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe a new cane,” Beth said. “The one he has now is ever so old and worn.”

Kurt chuckled. He hadn't thought about it that way. Except at bedtime, Kurt had not seen Blaine without his cane. It was such a fixture, an extension of him. It represented him, and to think of him as old and worn was an impossibility for Kurt. Blaine would forever be, in Kurt's eyes, young and beautiful and new.

“It is positively ancient,” Kurt said with a shake of his head.

Kurt heard a cry amongst the crowd as the bear on the chain, as annoyed with the crowd as Kurt had become, ran out amid the audience. The crowd pushed back in Kurt's direction, and he felt the crushing weight of several people stumbling toward him.

“Beth!” he cried out; though he could not see the girl, he felt her hand in his.

Hands pushed them back toward the store front, but suddenly he was being pushed farther – strong hands on his shoulders shoving him down an alley between two buildings, full of grey shadows even at this early sunlit hour of the day. Kurt kept Beth close to him, but he had no view of his attacker. In the struggle, his hat had been pushed down over his eyes, and he had not the hands to push it up out of his face.

It seemed whoever had them was taking them to the farthest end of the alley, but soon they stopped when the hands dropped from his shoulders. Kurt pushed the hat up out of his eyes and off his head, sending it falling to the floor. He grabbed Beth by the shoulders and pushed her behind his body, shielding her from whoever stood in front of them.

It was a man – disheveled, unkempt, in a wrinkled suit, a ruined top hat, and a tattered pair of leather shoes. Kurt thought him to be a common drunkard, but he could smell little drink on him. The man stared at them, eyes bouncing between them – hazel eyes, not the same alluring honey-gold of Blaine's hazel eyes, but thin, a veil tinted a similar bourbon color.

“Who are you?” Kurt demanded. “What do you think you are doing, grabbing us off the street like that?”

The man just stood and stared, though his eyes rested on Beth, hiding between Kurt's legs, more than Kurt liked. Kurt had a thought of grabbing Beth and running, but the man in front of them was built like a wall. He had broad shoulders, muscular – Kurt could tell even through the loose fit of his coat - probably from hard labor.

Kurt maneuvered Beth behind him until she was nearly invisible behind his coat, and the man snapped up straight, his eyes boring into Kurt's face. His lips split into a gruesome grin – all cracked, bleeding lips, and yellowing teeth.

“Who…who are you?” Kurt repeated, swallowing hard to maintain his perceived authority. He was a Count, after all. That should mean something. “I demand that you tell me your name at once.”

The command in Kurt's voice seemed to spur the man from his torpor.

“Oh, wher' are my man'ers,” the man said, removing his shoddy top hat from his head and exposing a head of scraggily, oily brown hair, cut on the sides to leave a path down the middle. “My name be Noah Puckerman,” he said, making a low, courtly bow to the gentleman in front of him. “Puck to my friends.”

Kurt swallowed hard.

“What do you want with us?” Kurt asked, trying not to reveal in his facial expression or his manner of speaking that he recognized the name. Puck prowled left and right, like a panther toying with its prey, eying the little girl hiding behind Kurt's legs with particular interest.

“I want wha' any man wants, m'lord,” Puck said. “A home, a family…” His eyes locked on Beth as he emphasized that point, and it made Kurt's heart stutter sickly. He shook his head, reaching behind him to grab Beth and hold her close.

“Wha---what does that have to do with us?” Kurt asked, cursing himself when his voice began to falter.

The man pointed down at the little girl, who whimpered and hid her face beneath Kurt's jacket.

“You ‘ave my little one, m'lord,” the man claimed, crouching down low to try and catch her eyes.

“I certainly do not,” Kurt barked, taking a step back with Beth stumbling behind him.

“Oh, but you do,” Puck said, straightening to look Kurt in the eyes. “That tiny poppet ‘iding behind you like a rabbit in tha brush. She be mine. ‘er mother bore her, and then stole ‘er away from me. Now I would like ‘er back, please.”

Beth squeaked like a mouse caught by her tail in a trap.

Puck smiled the grin of a bloodthirsty predator, and Kurt felt his stomach coil into a hard knot.

But not from fear.

Well, not entirely from fear.

He felt himself become infuriated with the man standing before him. How dare this charlatan try to steal Kurt's daughter away from him?

Kurt didn't care what it took. Puck wouldn't get hold of a single hair on Beth's head.

“What would you do with a young girl?” Kurt asked, stalling as he tried to devise a plan to get them away from this man and back to the manor house as quickly as possible. He had to alert Blaine to Puck's presence. He had to get his little girl to safety at all costs.

“I would love ‘er, m'lord,” Puck said. “I do love ‘er.”

“Is this what you consider love?” Kurt balked. “Is it love to scare her like this? Is it love to take her away from everything and everyone she loves?” Kurt took one more step back, stealing a glance behind him to see how close to the wall he and Beth were coming.

“Oh, I ‘ave no intention of taking ‘er away from everyone she loves,” Puck said.

Kurt's brow furrowed with confusion.

“What…”

“I seen you two together. I saw yer picture in tha papers. I see ‘ow close tha two of you are,” Puck said, lowering his voice. His eyes – hooded and dark - switched from Kurt's eyes to his mouth. “I see ‘ow…desir'ble you are.” Puck reached out a hand and touched a single fingertip to Kurt's bottom lip. “So why shouldn't my daughter and I ‘ave sumthin that we both want?”

Kurt jerked back from Puck's touch, spitting on the ground at Puck's feet.

“Never!” Kurt growled. “You will never have Beth…or me!”

Puck grabbed Kurt's bottom jaw in his hand, holding his face still and squeezing hard. Kurt gritted his teeth and groaned at the pain of dull nails biting into his flesh. Beth, peering out from behind Kurt's body for the moment, gasped, and then hid again, beginning to sob.

“Yer gonna be sor'ry for that,” Puck spat back in Kurt's face, raising his other fist behind him.

“Hey!” a voice rang out from the mouth of the alley.

Puck's head turned at the sound of Adam's voice. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw the fair haired man rush into the alley. Kurt gathered his courage and his strength and shoved Puck hard with both hands. Puck flew backward into the brick on the opposite side, his head knocking against the wall hard, leaving a smear of blood where he scraped down the wall.

Puck put a hand to the back of his head, pulling it in front of his face, his fingertips coated with blood.

“Fuck!” he cursed, scrambling to get to his feet. He looked at Kurt, eyes burning, hands out in front of him, about to throttle him, but he saw the threat of the other man coming at him, uninjured and already prepared for a fight.

“I'll be seein' you again, luvs,” he said, throwing Kurt and Beth a wink. He sped off down the alley, barreling into the baker. Before Adam could dodge, Puck tackled him, knocking him to the ground, and kept running out into the square. Adam leapt to his feet and gave chase while Kurt pulled Beth up into his arms. There they stood, waiting for any word that Adam was okay or that the blaggard had been caught. They heard screaming in the square, people yelling, “Look out!” and another voice that sounded like Adam's yelling, “Grab hold of that man!” Seconds later, the square went back to its normal hum of activity, and Kurt heard nothing more of the chase taking place. He started to make his way down the alley towards the entrance when the sound of heavy footsteps stopped him.

“Milord?” Beth whimpered.

“It's okay, Beth,” Kurt reassured her, putting a hand to her head to shield her eyes from view of whatever might be headed for them. “Everything is going to be fine. I promise you.”

The footsteps got closer and Kurt readied himself to run, but Adam came into view, jogging back down the alley toward them.

“Adam,” Kurt said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness it's only you.”

“I lost him, milord,” Adam said, approaching slowly when he saw Beth cling to Kurt harder, her fingers digging into the sleeves of his coat. “I am sorry.”

“It's alright,” Kurt said. “You tried, and I appreciate it. Thank goodness you showed up when you did.” Kurt smiled for looks, but he felt his heart shudder knowing that Puck was still out there. “Why did you come looking for us?” Kurt asked, curious now that the threat to their lives had been evaded.

Adam reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a brown bag of flattened pasties.

“You forgot these when you left, milord,” Adam said, handing them over. “I'm afraid they may have gotten a little squished.”

Kurt reached out a hand for them, chuckling at the destroyed pasties, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

It was funny…but it wasn't funny.

“Are you alright, milord?” Adam asked softly, noticing Kurt's shaking hand holding on to the bag like his life depended on it.

“Yes, I think I'm fine,” Kurt lied for the sake of the girl cradled in his arms.

“Your face,” Adam gasped. There was nowhere for Kurt to check the injury to his jaw, but his skin felt hot and it stung.

“It is but a scratch,” Kurt said, waving him off.

“And what of Miss Beth?”

“Beth?” Kurt asked, looking down at the little girl clinging to his shoulders. “Beth, honey, are you okay?”

“I think so, milord,” she said, shivering.

“We should get out of this alley. Let me get you two home, milord,” Adam offered. Kurt nodded, taking a step on legs that hadn't remembered how to move yet. “Do you need me to take the girl, milord?” Adam asked as he led Kurt and Beth out of the alley.

“No,” Kurt said, holding Beth tighter. “Thank you, but I'm alright to carry her.”

Nobody was going to take his daughter from him. Nobody.

Blaine awoke from an incredible dream in a miserable way. He turned over in his cocoon of warm blankets and pillows after fantasizing about the night before – how receptive Kurt was to his touches, how reckless he was with his moans, how abandoned as he moved like a cat, arching his back, riding Blaine's cock, begging and pleading – to find his husband already out of bed, and he suspected, out of the house.

In a past life, this would have been a blessing – a morning to himself to drink his coffee in peace, read the paper at his leisure, to work in his office completely undisturbed.

But that wasn't his life now. He didn't wish for that. The house would be too quiet with Kurt and Beth gone, and he didn't like that. He wanted them back. He wanted Beth in his lap when he read the paper. He wanted Kurt sitting beside him as he drank his coffee, humming and sewing, or going over French verbs with Beth. Blaine didn't realize how unnecessarily depressing and glum the life of a bachelor was until he wasn't one any longer.

He dressed slowly, hoping that if he stalled long enough, his husband and daughter would be back before he went down to breakfast, but no such luck. So he dined alone, and even though his cook made all of his favorites, everything that touched his tongue was tasteless without his husband and daughter there.

So, this is what it meant to be in love?

How could it be a good thing if it made caviar taste like horse droppings?

Maybe, Blaine thought, that would only last as long as he didn't tell Kurt the extent of his affections.

Blaine needed to tell him.

Kurt deserved to be married to a man who could tell him he loved him. He deserved to know. He deserved hearing those words ring in his ears morning, noon, and night.

He deserved to have it whispered against his skin while they made love.

Though Blaine wasn't sure how Kurt could not know by this point.

Maybe he had slipped and said it to Kurt? Perhaps just once?

Blaine racked his brain, thinking for a time, but he couldn't come up with one, and he knew why.

Because he hadn't said it…and he was a coward.

Kurt didn't deserve a coward.

Blaine wanted to devise the perfect way to tell Kurt, the perfect moment.

The sound of the knocker pounding against the door barely caught Blaine's attention. There was an order of beef and sugar due, and tending to it was none of his affair. It wasn't until he heard Marley cry, “Oh, milord! Lord Anderson, come quickly!” that he paid any attention.

Blaine got to his feet and followed the voice to the entry, not ever thinking in a century that he would see Kurt – his Kurt – being led about by that baker Adam. He even had the audacity to touch his husband's arm.

“What happened?” Blaine's eyes locked on Adam's face and scowled. “What are you…”

“He saved us, milord,” Beth's voice piped up. Blaine looked at her startled, seeming to notice her for the first time. She was curled in a ball in Kurt's arms. Kurt set her down and she turned to Blaine, throwing her thin arms around him and attaching herself to his good leg.

“Wha---“ Blaine looked to Kurt for an explanation, but instead he saw a set of scratches on his pale face accompanied by black-and-blue marks that looked suspiciously like fingers. “Somebody, please, tell me what happened! Kurt…” Blaine reached out a hand to touch the bruises.

“It was…it was Puck, my lord,” Kurt said. “He found us.”

“Wait…what do you mean?” Blaine asked, looking from his husband, to his daughter, to the baker lingering nearby. “What do you mean he found you?”

“He's been searching for Beth, my lord,” Kurt said, biting his lip as he fought back tears, “all this long time. He thinks…he thinks Beth is his daughter, and he wants her. He tried to take us.”

“Both of you?” Blaine asked befuddled. “Why…”

“He didn't want to take me away from Beth, my lord,” Kurt said, explaining in vague truths so as not to put too many worries into Blaine's head. “He saw how close we had become.”

Blaine's legs wanted to give out. He wanted to fall to the floor. He wanted to go back in time, go back to bed and unknow all of this – maybe he could convince Kurt to stay with him, and then none of this would happen.

“But…how did he find you?” Blaine asked.

“The article, my lord,” Kurt replied, starting to shiver, giving in to fear and panic now that he was safe in the presence of his husband. “He saw the article about Beth and me in the society pages. That's how he knew.”

Blaine glared in the direction of the front door, as if Puck was going to storm through at any second and demand he turn over Beth immediately.

Well, Puck couldn't have her. Blaine wouldn't allow it.

Beth or Kurt.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, “he knows where we are. He'll find out where we live. He'll come looking for us.”

Kurt's voice drew Blaine's attention back to the present. He looked at the faces around him where they stood in the sitting room, waiting to hear what Blaine intended to do.

There was only one thing he could do.

He had to keep him family safe.

“We need to leave here,” Blaine said, bending at the waist to hold Beth close, “now.”