Kurt stepped out of Rachels room, giving his sister a moment alone to dress, and instructing his maid to put on the finest dress that she herself owned, as she would be accompanying him to dinner that night. Maybe it was a bit unprecedented, even unacceptable in other households, but the Hummels rarely stood on any sort of formal ceremony, and concessions were often made for Kurts and Rachels personal maids – especially now, when Kurt would need the strength of a good friend by his side.

Kurt walked down the back staircase, avoiding the gathering guests, all of whom would stop him to shake his hand and congratulate him on his familys good fortune, to ask after him, to comment on how hed grown since they last saw him, and when he would make himself such a match as his sister had. He had nothing to say to any of these well-wishers. He felt no need to be congratulated, and hed much rather be alone besides.

He stepped out into the cool night air, walking a distance from where the carriages were being parked, and where footmen and drivers were ushered to the back kitchen door to smuggle plates of hot food.

"Kurt!" a voice uttered from the darkness. Kurt smiled before he turned around, knowing the identity of the voices owner by heart.

"Adam!" Kurt called quietly in the direction of his voice. "Whatever are you doing here?"

"Ive come here to bring your father a cake that he ordered, Mr. Hummel," Adam said, making a small bow and holding aloft a square box tied closed with twine.

"But, I dont understand," Kurt said, looking at the box with a wide smile on his face, "all of the cakes and pastries have already been delivered, Mr. Crawford."

"I think that if you were to check, sir, you would find that one cake was missing from that order," Adam said, tapping his finger on the side of the box.

"But, how can that be, when you are so diligent with your duties?" Kurt teased.

"Probably because this one had been put in a corner and intentionally hidden so that I would have a proper excuse for stopping by tonight." Adam ducked his head, smiling shyly at his brilliant plan while Kurt laughed at the adorable man blushing before him. "Otherwise, there would be no other way I could see you this evening."

Kurt bit his lip as he watched Adam scuff the toe of his worn leather shoe against the stone walk. Kurt had a plan, something hed been devising the moment the shadow of Lord Anderson had descended upon his house. It was a plan that would insure his future happiness - he was certain of it - if only he could get Adam to agree.

"I know of a way that we can see each other again tonight," Kurt said. He turned and saw a bevy of faces staring at them - footmen and drivers with plates in hand, shoveling food into their mouths, watching Kurt and Adam as if they were performing scenes from a play.

"Walk with me, Mr. Crawford?" Kurt asked, taking Adam by the arm and pulling him away.

"Of course, Mr. Hummel," Adam replied, in no real position to turn the man down.

When they were out of earshot of the mass of eating men, Kurt leaned in close to Adams ear.

"Tonight, my father is going to announce the engagement of my sister Rachel to Lord Anderson."

"Yes, I know," Adam said, his voice touched with sincere sympathy for the eldest Hummel sibling. "I have seen Mr. Hudson in town just today. He is quite beside himself with grief."

Kurt deflated. It was enough to have to deal with the pain of his sister, but to be privy to Finns pain as well – it was almost too unbearable.

"Well, I was thinking," Kurt continued, trying to put Finn and Rachel from his head, "after my sister is engaged, I will be free to marry…"

Adam came to halt. He turned to face Kurt, nearly crushing the forgotten cake against his chest.

"Would…would you…"

"You know I would," Kurt said, smiling at Adams stunned expression.

"I dont have anything to offer you, Kurt," Adam said, the joy fading from his face. "I cant give you a life like this."

"Adam, have I ever reproached you for your lack of fortune?" Kurt asked. "That doesnt matter to me. It never has. Not at all."

Adams smile was slow to return.

"Your father will never agree to the marriage."

"He doesnt need to," Kurt whispered, trying to bring the joy back to Adams face, wanting Adam to be as excited about this as he was. "Well…well elope."

"But, wont your father be angry?" Adam asked.

"He wont care now that he has the marriage that he wants," Kurt said, though it was only a half-truth. Eventually, his father might come around. Having Rachel married off to an earl would, at the very least, cushion some of the blow.

There was still the chance that Kurts father would never forgive him, never accept them, never want to see him again.

But he couldnt have his life lived for him. He didnt know about his fathers other debts. Whom might Kurt get sold off to in the long run?

He didnt want to wait and find out.

"So…" Kurt rolled on the balls of his feet, waiting for an answer, "what say you?"

Adam smiled, preparing to give Kurt his answer.

"Am I...interrupting something?" a severe voice – a voice not accustomed to being questioned – asked of the two hidden lovers.

Kurts eyes snapped up, staring straight into dark, golden eyes – eyes that looked less familiar than he had imagined, but which still had the power to make him weak at the knees.

"Good evening, my lord," Kurt said, bowing quickly. Adam, with eyes downcast, did the same.

"Good evening, Master Kurt," Blaine said, looking him over with a detachment befitting his station. "And who is this young gentleman? Will he be joining us for dinner?"

"This is…"

"My name is Adam Crawford, milord," Adam offered up his name with another bow.

"And, no, my lord," Kurt said, feeling a strange need to hide Adam from Blaines cruel stare, "he will not be joining us this evening."

Blaine looked from Kurt, to Adam, then back to Kurt again - his eyes growing darker with each pass.

"Pity," Blaine said, nodding perfunctorily. He hobbled past them and back into the house.

Kurt watched Blaine leave, subconsciously raising a hand to his throat.

"Dear Lord, does it feel colder out here?" Adam said with a shiver.

Kurt smiled at Adams jest, but he didnt find it quite as funny as Adam intended.

"Are you going to give me an answer or not?" Kurt asked, throwing anxious looks back at the house, expecting his father to come collect him any minute.

Adam looked at Kurts worried eyes and chuckled.

"Yes," he said. "Of course, yes, Ill go with you."

Adam rushed forward to kiss Kurt, their bodies colliding with the cake box between them, keeping them out of the others reach.

"Ops!" Kurt laughed, taking the box out of Adams hands. "Lets try that again."

"Kurt!" his fathers voice beckoned from the door. "Kurt Hummel, come inside this instant!"

"Ive…got to go," Kurt said, looking from Adams expectant face up to the door where his father stood staring down at him. Burt Hummels eyes took in the sight of Adam and glared at him disapprovingly. He had suspicions that his son had unspoken intentions toward this boy, and Burt would not have it.

Kurt took the cake box from Adams hands and sped up the stairs into his fathers house. Burt blocked the doorway once his son was inside, shutting the door behind him without another glance at the baker darkening his step.

"What did the Crawford boy want?" Kurts father asked gruffly.

"He came to deliver this," Kurt said, handing the box over to a servant who came to collect it.

"And is that all he wanted?" Burt was livid at the thought of his son undermining him, seeing this penniless baker behind his back.

"Yes, Father," Kurt answered, looking at his father with eyes that he hoped did not betray his dishonesty. "He just came by to deliver a cake that went astray from the original order this afternoon. Thats all."

Burt stared his son down. His wife, Elizabeth, always had a talent of knowing when the children were lying, but Burt did not possess the same skill. He had to rely on his hard nature to compel the untruths out of his children.

He didnt like to be heavy handed with them, but they were both so willful, and he wanted what was best for them; he wanted to see them both properly settled.

He feared that he didnt have much time left.

"Alright," Burt said, switching from a scowl to a smile. This wasnt the time for petty arguments. This was a night of unique felicity. They should relish in it without contempt. "Go get yourself washed up, my son. I want you to make the rounds with the guests. Many have already asked about you."

"Yes, Father," Kurt said, kissing his father on the cheek and heading off to his room to freshen up.

Kurt washed his face, set his hair, and changed his waistcoat, then joined the party with Marley in tow. He was too overwhelmed with seeing Blaine again, and his plans for escape with Adam later on, to bother with the other guests.

Kurt grabbed a tray full of drinks from the table and set it in Marleys hands.

"Now, circulate, serve these drinks, and keep an ear out for gossip, as much as you can," Kurt said excitedly, "and when your tray is empty, find me and tell me everything you know."

"Yes, sir," Marley said, taking up the tray of glasses and setting out into the room.

Kurt retreated to a distant corner where he could observe the goings on undisturbed. Blaine stood straight and tall, barely moving, almost a mirror of the stone statues Kurts father kept. He wore a finer suit than Kurt had ever seen him in. Of course, when he had known Lord Anderson, he was simply Blaine – a hard-headed boy with a rapier wit and mischief hiding behind his debonair smile. But Kurts desires for the raven-haired boy were just foolish fantasies, and they had gone long ago.

So, why were they suddenly all he could think about?

In one gloved hand, Blaine held a knob-handled cane, which he seemed to depend upon. Walking sticks were definitely en vogue for the well-dressed set, but Blaine looked as though he needed his. Still, there was nothing that would convince Kurt that the leg in question was actually gone.

There was a break in the music as Rachel lighted down the spiral staircase into the ballroom, her head held high in a manner befitting a lady. Rachel didnt look at all nervous, and Kurt admired how well she could play her part, but Kurt could tell from the way she held her hands clasped in front of her that her stomach was bound in knots. She greeted her father and was introduced to the young earl, who seemed more interested in his tumbler of bourbon than his future bride.

Kurts heart bled for her.

Kurts eyes found Marley, bouncing from person to person with her tray of drinks, delivering a full glass, picking up an empty one, stopping to overhear a drop of conversation on the way. By the time she returned to Kurt, her tray was empty and her bright brown eyes shining.

"Okay," Kurt said, pulling her further into the corner. "Tell."

"I dont know that Ive uncovered much more than you already know, sir," Marley apologized.

"Marley!" Kurt groaned.

"Okay, okay!" Marley started. "Well, Ive heard that he received a knighthood."

"Oh my," Kurt said, staring back at Blaine, imagining him being knighted. What a regal figure he must have struck. "Is the title a courtesy or…"

"No, quite the opposite," Marley said. "It was well-earned."

"Really?" Kurt asked. "What else?"

"That he spends all of his time locked away in his house in the country, trying to find his brothers killer," Marley said, whispering low to shield her voice from any eavesdroppers nearby. "And thats part of how he lost his leg."

Kurt gasped. Kitty was right, unless everyone in the house was daft.

"And theres something else," Marley said, blushing to her brown roots.

"What is it?" Kurt asked. He turned to face his maid when she didnt speak up right away and saw a crimson flush take over her face. "Oh, just spit it out, girl!"

"Just that…uh…he is exceptionally well-versed in the ways of…uh…physical affection…sir…"

Kurts heart sank in his chest with a final thud for his sister. He had not expected Blaine to sit solemnly in the ice house, awaiting his betrothal. Men were expected to sow their oats, as it were – an ideology Kurt didnt particularly subscribe to in his own life - but exceptionally well-versed had an almost frightening ring to it.

Kurt watched his sister sigh deeply as she continued to be blatantly ignored.

"Its not fair," Kurt said. "You would think he might at least talk to her. Compliment her. Offer to walk the room with her and get to know her better. She is beautiful, is she not?"

"She is indeed, sir," Marley agreed, "but if you dont mind me saying so, the way hes been looking over here with those dark, brooding eyes, one would think that you were the one he was about to propose marriage to."

Kurt looked over to Blaine who had his eyes fixed on Kurts face, staring at him unabashedly, not having the sense of modesty to look away now that he had been caught. Kurt felt his cheeks color at being the target of that stare, as if Blaine were able to see through his clothes, into his body, sussing out all his treasured secrets.

Before he turned his attention back to the conversation at hand, his lips curled into the most inappropriate of smiles.

Kurts entire body went cold.