"Oh, good heavens, Blaine, dear. Please tell me you are not wearing those newfangled stirrup pantaloons of Mr. Brummel’s," Kurt said, taking in his friend’s attire. "Though I commend you on the new tailcoat. Very sharp."

"So says the man wearing the indecently tight breeches with a French fly. The ladies will be scandalized by your continental... ah..." Blaine’s gaze dropped to the French fly in question, and his cheeks colored. "...aspirations.”

"My father was a coach-maker, I may get away with a bit of social scandal. On the other hand, your father is a highly regarded barrister; you should be mindful of that. This is your cousin's debutante after all."

Blaine inclined his head. "That may be, Kurt, but I'm following the latest trends. You won’t be impressing many of the ladies tonight dressed like that."

"Oh, come now. You well know I'm disinclined to impress the ladies. The last thing I wish for is a wife. Which leaves the real question." Kurt leaned in far enough to speak only for Blaine’s benefit. "Are you very impressed?"