Kurt looked down the length of the table, marveling at the general splendor of those seated. It had been so long since Kurts father had hosted a formal gathering such as this. The crème de la crème of the county sat around him, each holding their breath, awaiting a word from Lord Anderson. They werent small town folk, not in the slightest, but the earl was a rare sight. No one had seen head or tail of him since his title had been bestowed, yet here he was, preparing to take a bride.

Lord Anderson sat at the head of the table, with Kurts father to one side, and Rachel to the other. Kurt sat a few chairs down with Marley standing behind him. Kurt could barely keep his seat, fidgeting with his silverware, his leg bouncing beneath the table, his thoughts on later tonight when he would pack his bag and run off to be married himself. He would try to make it back for Rachels wedding, of course, once everything had settled.

He was relying on Blaine opting for a fashionably long engagement.

"How do you find the pheasant this evening, Lord Anderson?" Rachel asked, attempting to spark a conversation. "Is it to your liking?"

Blaine chewed his food thoughtfully, wiping his mouth with his napkin, and then set it aside, taking all the time in the world to answer.

"It was…adequate," he said at last.

Kurt bit his tongue quickly to keep from commenting.

The sauce used to dress the bird was his mothers own recipe. And the pheasant itself was one of the best off his fathers estate. How dare Lord Anderson call it adequate?

Who did Lord Anderson think he was that he could come into Kurts house, ignore his sister, and insult his mothers cooking?

This wasnt the Blaine that Kurt remembered. This man wasnt him at all.

Blaine gazed down at his plate, contemplating his boiled potatoes during the atypical silence hovering in the room. He didnt have time to perform for these people when there were urgent, pressing matters at hand.

He pushed back his chair and stood to make his announcement, choosing to address his plate instead of the faces at the table.

"I am here tonight, as you may all well know, because I have made my intentions to marry known."

The already oppressive silence became more so when forks and knives stopped mid-air. Rachel, to her benefit, sat up straight with her hands daintily folded in her lap, her eyes patient but sad.

"Mr. Hummel," Blaine said, "will you show me to your office so that we may get these marriage arrangements underway?"

"Of course," Burt said, tossing down his napkin on his plate and standing from his seat. "Come along, Rachel," he said motioning to his daughter.

"I will require the audience of Master Hummel as well," Blaine said suddenly.

All eyes turned down the table to stare at Kurt, who looked up at Blaine with a quizzical expression, but the earl had removed himself from the table and started out of the dining hall.

Kurt could hear guests muttering as he stood to follow.

"Well, that was rather odd, wasnt it?" one voice commented.

"Very odd," another replied.

"Why in the world would the son need to be present in the matter of the daughters marriage?" another pondered.

"Im wondering that myself," Kurt said under his breath to Marley as they walked quickly from the table.

"Worry not, Master Kurt," Marley said, keeping close at his heels. "They probably need another witness to the signing of the contract, thats all."

"You are right," Kurt said, hurrying quickly away from the querying looks of their guests. "I have nothing to fear from Lord Blaine Anderson."

Kurt arrived at his fathers office behind the rest of the party and knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," a voice called out – Lord Andersons voice.

Kurt was appalled. What an impertinence to take up command in another mans house!

Kurt held his tongue, though, as he opened the door and walked inside. His father sat at his desk (thank goodness that Lord Anderson had at least left his father that dignity) and Rachel sat on the chair just in front of it. Lord Anderson stood somewhat between the two, waiting for Kurt before he officially started his meeting.

"Sit," Blaine said, motioning to the remaining empty chair.

For some reason, Kurt felt like he shouldnt take that seat. He felt very much like he should stand in the doorway in case he needed to run.

"Sorry to keep you, my lord," Kurt said, trying not to show his trepidation at being a part of this marriage contract, in whatever capacity Lord Anderson had found for him.

"Master Kurt," Blaine said, taking a step toward him, "why do you look at me so?"

"How am I looking at you, my lord?" Kurt asked, uncomfortable with the question, since Kurt had looked at Blaine a great many ways since hed arrived, not all of them favorable.

"With derision," Blaine answered. "I am curious what it is I have done to offend you? I cannot tell if the looks you have been giving me all evening are bred from indifference or disgust."

"You have not offended me, my lord," Kurt said, holding himself straight and tall, and daring not to frown. "I assure you, that is the farthest thing from the truth."

"Good," Blaine responded with what could have been an honest smile if not for the hint of calculated satisfaction hiding in the corners, "because we were friends once, if I recall."

"Good friends," Kurt agreed quietly. Kurt felt the need to hide his opinion loosen as Blaines smug grin began to spread across his face. How did such a sweet, charming, unassuming young man turn into the egotist Kurt saw standing in front of him? "Yes, my lord," he continued carefully, "we were once very good friends, which is why I must inquire…"

"Kurt…" his father cut in, putting his hands flat on his desk and preparing to stand.

"…with no disrespect at all intended…"

"Kurt…" his father warned him again, but Blaine put a hand up to silence him, looking thoroughly amused by Kurts cautious speech.

"Why you are marrying my sister?"

Blaines smile slipped quickly from his face, his expression blank where before it had been thoroughly self-satisfied.

"My father says it is to repay a debt," Kurt explained further when Blaine didnt interrupt, "but I dont quite understand how you can join your life to a person you have no affection for…"

"Kurt…"

This time the warning came from Rachel, who looked suddenly frightened for her brother, stepping as he was into dangerous territory.

"…evident in the fact that you have barely looked upon her…barely spoken to her…"

Kurt looked at the faces around him, staring with various expressions ranging from surprise and indignation to fear.

"Have you even complimented her once this evening, my lord?" Kurt asked, Blaines silence beginning to fuel his anger. "Have you spoken to her at all, for that matter? Can you truly prevail upon her to be satisfied in the bonds of a loveless marriage?"

"Kurt! Hold your tongue!" his father barked. "Youve spoken more than your fair share!"

"No, its quite alright," Blaine said, addressing Kurt with a vicious smile. "I would like to know all that my future husband thinks of me."

All eyes rose to meet Blaines, but Kurts glare seemed to excite Blaine the most.

Kurt felt his body go numb. It wasnt an instant phenomenon. It started at his feet, freezing him in place. It hit his knees, almost bringing him to the floor. Then his stomach, tying all his muscles into knots. It crept up his chest, nearly stopping his heart, and then his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe. By the time it reached his head, he was unable to speak, unable to think. He blinked dumbly until he could come up with a response.

"I…I dont…" Kurt shook his head slowly. This was a dream; it had to be. He was still on his hilltop, asleep, worried about the fate of his dear sister, trying to come up with any way to rescue her, and this was his worried minds only answer. "Forgive me, my lord, but I dont understand…"

"That makes the two of us, Lord Anderson," Burt added, green eyes wary, fixed on the young earl, demanding an explanation.

"You make many assumptions with regard to where I plan to marry," Blaine said, finding a carafe of bourbon on a nearby table and filling a glass. "Your daughter is of no interest to me. I came here to declare my intentions toward your son, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt looked at Rachel, hating the look of relief in her eyes.

"But…to have a younger child married off before the eldest, my lord?" Burt asked. "Im not sure that I approve. Its not done that way. What would people think?"

Kurt grimaced and Blaine smirked. Of course, his father wouldnt value the feelings of his children above those of strangers they will never meet and never know.

"Always so concerned with appearances," Blaine said, mirroring Kurts disapproval at the source of Burts objection. "I had a feeling that point might bring contention. Heres what I propose. Your daughter Rachel shall be married first."

Rachel turned and looked at Kurt with owlish eyes.

"How do you mean, my lord?" Burt asked.

"It has been brought to my attention that the son of an acquaintance, a Mr. Finn Hudson, has a rather healthy infatuation with your daughter, and that the feeling might be mutual. Am I mistaken?"

All eyes turned on Rachel, and Rachel shrank visibly.

"You are not mistaken, my lord," Rachel barely answered.

"It so happens that I owe a debt to Bill Hudsons widow – a debt that I have been looking to pay back appropriately for some time. Therefore, I will pay your daughters dowry, as well as give Finn Hudson a living wage so that he and your daughter may be wed. I will make him caretaker of one of my estates closer to London so that she will not be too far from you. Then, I will marry your son and therein excuse your debt. How does that sound?"

Both Kurt and Rachel looked at their father with pleading eyes – Rachel begging their father to say yes, and Kurt imploring his father to say no. Burt had been backed into a corner. No sane man would refuse such an arrangement. Burt couldnt look at them, knowing that from this day forward he may end up permanently estranged from one of his children.

"That arrangement sounds…agreeable, Lord Anderson," Burt said heavily, sitting back in his seat and closing his eyes, waiting for the objections to start.

"Dont I get a say in any of this, Father?" Kurt asked snappishly.

"Im sorry," Blaine said, still tending to his drink. "I didnt think you would have an objection. Oh, is there an understanding, Master Kurt, between you and that gentleman I saw you with outside earlier?"

"Which gentleman?" Burt asked, opening his eyes and glaring at his son. He didnt like to be lied to, and he didnt like the idea that his son had machinations that he did not know about.

Kurt shook his head, imperceptibly so that only Blaine could see, but Blaine smiled like anything, and put on as if he hadnt seen.

"The blond gentleman?" Blaine supplied helpfully, well aware of the situation he was putting Kurt in. "I believe you said his name was Adam?"

"The baker!" Burt said, looking at Kurt directly as he spoke. "No, there is no understanding between my son and the baker."

Kurts jaw dropped open. Rachel reached out a hand to cover Kurts in a silent show of comfort, seeming to understand for the first time that winning her happiness had deprived her brother of his, but she dared not speak. This opportunity might never come again if she spoke against it.

She prayed that someday Kurt would forgive her.

"I apologize, Lord Anderson, for my sons rudeness," Burt said with another hard glare towards Kurt. "Please believe me when I tell you how very grateful we all are for your generosity."

"Tis no bother," Blaine replied, throwing back his drink in one gulp. "All is forgiven, but I must insist that we stage this wedding at once. Tomorrow, if possible."

Kurts eyes went wide with shock.

"T-t-tomorrow?" Kurt stuttered, his voice cracking.

"Yes," Blaine said. "I have no more time to waste on this affair…"

"But, my lord," Kurt beseeched, but Blaine continued on as if he had not heard him.

"…as we must away to my estate immediately after."

"Of course," Kurts father said with a nod. Kurts entire world shifted beneath his feet. Here his life was being planned in front of him, and he didnt get a single word to say about it.

"No, father!" Kurt cried, but Burt had had enough. His eyes fell to his desk as he ignored his sons pleas. Kurt turned then to the hardened man staring at them both. "Lord Anderson!" Kurt rushed toward him in a panic, but Blaines steely gaze stayed his feet. "Why must we away to the country? Can we not stay in the city?" Kurt asked, clasping his hands together, digging his nails into his palm to keep his composure,

"Certainly not," Blaine said coldly. "My matters at present require that I return post haste to my house in the country."

"But, what about my matters, my lord!?" Kurt cried. "My entire life is here! My family is here! All of my dreams and aspirations are here!"

"They are of a lesser concern than the responsibilities I have, Master Kurt," Blaine said, his face rigid in its mask of supreme authority. "I will allow you to bring along your maid so that you will have someone familiar to attend to your needs."

Kurt looked back at his father, who was mindlessly shifting through papers on his desk.

As far as Burt Hummel was concerned, the final word on the matter had been spoken.

"I will have the contracts drawn up," Blaine said, refilling his glass, "and have them brought by in the morning."

"How can you do this?" Kurt asked both men, but mainly his father. "My mother wouldnt have sold me off…" Kurt felt the anger and the injustice rise within him, causing him to speak when propriety would have advised against it. "She wouldnt have sold any of us off to pay a debt, no matter what the sum!"

Burt slammed his hands on his desk and stood to face his son.

"Your mother isnt here now, is she?" he roared.

Kurts face turned bright red, rivaling the firelight inside the small room. That comment by his father was the last straw. This couldnt be borne. He wouldnt have it. He would have none of it, but what could he do?

Nothing. The life he knew and the future he had planned for were over.

He turned from the room and ran, making a spectacle of himself, but he could hardly care.

Adam would be there soon, and Kurt would have to find a way to tell him good-bye.