Chapter VI
December 1849, Bailey Hall
"Tell me, Lord Smythe, why is it that you aren't married yet?"
Kurt looks up from the plate of chicken breast in mushroom sauce he was just about to set down on the food table. They've finished serving the fifth course of what promised to be a relaxed late dinner. But seeing Lady Catherine shooting a provocative smile at Lord Smythe after asking that question, Kurt has the feeling that the quiet part of dinner is over.
Lord Smythe, however, doesn't even bother to lift his gaze from his plate when he answers in tone that sounds decidedly indifferent, "I'm not sure, Lady Catherine. Why aren't you?"
Sir Henry looks up at that and grins sneeringly at Lady Catherine. Her expression remains unfazed, and only the lightest blush on her neck indicates that she noticed the implied insult. But instead of doing what Kurt would think wise and letting the topic go, she continues, "I just think it... unusual that a man like you, who claims to have so many admirers and is certainly wealthy enough to not having to consider the dowry of his bride, has never even thought about proposing to somebody."
"Now Lady Catherine, be reasonable," Lord Huntington replies, a patronizing smile on his face as he sets down his fork, "Sebastian is not twenty-four yet, and like you pointed out, there is no reason for him to marry. Why should he give up the comfortable life of a bachelor just to get tied down by some foolish girl with dimples?"
"You mean like you did, Arthur?" Sir Reginald asks, which causes Lady Isabella to make an exaggeratedly indignant noise and hit him playfully with her napkin.
Lady Catherine, however, is not distracted by them. Instead, she now aims her disapproving stare at Lord Huntington, "Don't you think it a little hypocritical, Lord Huntington, to regard women as social pariahs if we don't manage to secure a man's affection at twenty, while you men think it to be ridiculous to marry before the age of forty?"
"You miss the real problem here, Lady Catherine," Lord Smythe replies, finally looking up from his plate and giving Lady Catherine a false, sweet smile, "The difference doesn't lie between men and women, or young and middle-aged. The difference is that I could find someone who would want to marry me."
This time, Lady Catherine is unable to ignore the insult aimed at her. She stares at Lord Smythe, a hate-filled expression on her pretty face. Lord Smythe stares back, his false, syrupy smile steady in its mock indifference.
Kurt catches Jeff's eye, and Jeff lifts his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, indicating that he doesn't understand Lady Catherine's behaviour any more than Kurt does. Ever since that ball two weeks ago she has been acting decidedly hostile towards Lord Smythe, or more precisely, even more hostile than usual. Lord Smythe doesn't seem to be disturbed by her hostility; in fact, it rather seems to amuse him. But while similar conversations between them have occurred before, the level of resentment seems to grow with every evening, and has apparently reached a new peak this instant.
Lady Isabella, who seems to miss the sudden tension in the air, laughs and contributes her thoughts on the topic, "Well, I agree with Catherine. I also think that it is absolutely wicked of you men to leave us girls waiting for so horribly long just because you want to enjoy your life a little longer. Like it isn't infinitely more fun having us around!"
Kurt rolls his eyes, deciding that if Lady Isabella is the embodiment of fun, he will be content to spend his life in boredom. Since the ball, the weather has allowed for more outdoor activities, but Lady Isabella has still taken on the habit of complaining about the limited life at Bailey Hall at every given opportunity. By now, everyone seems annoyed by her complaining, and nobody bothers to reply anything to her contribution.
Since the hunting season is slowly coming to an end, the lords and ladies have decided to spend the rest of the month, Christmas and the beginning of the New Year at Longleat House, the estate of the Huntingtons. It was Lady Isabella's idea. "Not that I don't absolutely adore the quiet life in the country-side," she had sincerely assured Lord Smythe who had trouble biting back a condescending grin, "But you simply must admit that you live very far away from any cultured life, and we really must have friends over for Christmas. And back home, we can invite our neighbours, the Russels, and the Elliots – oh, it will be so much fun!" Lord Smythe didn't object to her plans, and so it had been agreed on to leave for Longleat by the end of the week.
Since this is the last evening before the day of departure, Kurt and the other footmen have already started packing. Kurt is delighted at the prospect of spending Christmas in solitude, far, far away from Lord Smythe and his friends. But seeing him and Lady Catherine now glare at each other in this openly hostile manner makes him wonder whether they will end up killing each other under the Christmas tree. Not that either would be a great loss.
Lady Emily, who looks back and forth between Lord Smythe and Lady Catherine, good-naturedly tries to introduce a new topic to the conversation, "Oh Catherine, did I tell you? I just finished that book you recommended, and I have to say I'm quite in love with it." Fortunately, Sir Robert, who rarely shows any interest in topics suggested by Lady Emily, seems also willing to change the subject, and he asks, "Might I inquire which book Lady Catherine did recommend to you, Lady Emily?"
Grateful for Sir Robert's efforts, Lady Emily quickly answers, "It's called Mansfield Park, but the author's name escapes me." She contemplates it for a moment, then shakes her head, "Some woman author, though. Not very widely read, I fear." Lord Henry grins at his sister in a rather condescending way, "One of these horribly sentimental novels you women read, I presume?"
Kurt thinks this is a little hypocritical, given the fact that he has noticed that the pile of books on Lord Henry's desks consists mainly of gothic and sensational novels written by Ann Radcliffe, but he hides his expression and moves to help Jeff with the fish plate while still listening attentively to the conversation. Lady Isabella scolds, "Don't interrupt her, Lord Henry. Emily, dearest, you were saying about that book...?"
"Oh Isabella, you simply must read it too," Lady Emily says, and Kurt can hear her clap her hands in excitement, "It is so romantic and heartbreaking."
"I agree about it being heartbreaking," Kurt hears the dry voice of Lord Smythe, "Especially the part at the end where she marries her awful cousin."
Kurt looks at Jeff, who raises his left eyebrow at him, obviously surprised to hear Lord Smythe admitting to have read the novel. Kurt isn't particularly surprised at that – considering the speed at which Lord Smythe seems to devour literature, it's no wonder he can't be picky anymore. There must be hardly anything left in the library he has not laid his judgemental eyes on.
At Lord Smythe's comment, Lady Emily gives an outraged little cry, "Oh Lord Smythe! Now you spoiled the ending."
At a sign by Mr Moore, Kurt turns around and starts to quietly move around the table, quickly and silently collecting the dirty dishes while Jeff follows with the next course. Lord Smythe looks unrepentant, but Kurt notices that Lady Catherine is again staring at him with a decidedly hostile expression, and he really wonders what happened that night during the ball that made her despise him so much. Not that generally he finds it odd for people to despise Lord Smythe, on the contrary, it would seem like the natural human reaction. It's the sudden intensity of Lady Catherine's loathing that surprises him.
"So, you disapprove of her marrying the man she loves?" Lady Catherine asks. Lord Smythe looks up, the false smile back on his lips, and nods, "Since the man is not worthy of her affection, let alone another person's love, I do."
Lady Catherine snorts in a very unladylike way at that, "I suppose you would rather have her accept that Mister Crawford who turns out to be a downright villain in the end?"
The smile on Lord Smythe's face starts to look strained around the edges, "I do believe, Lady Catherine, that if the woman he loved had not accepted his offer first and then later crushed his hopes and dreams, his desperation might not have driven him to become a villain."
When Kurt carefully takes her plate, Lady Catherine replies, "I can hardly believe that we are talking about the same book, Lord Smythe. That man was evil from the start."
"I honestly doubt that any man is 'evil from the start'," Lord Smythe answers. Lady Catherine doesn't seem to notice the plate that Jeff has set down in front of her, because she is still frowning at Lord Smythe when she answers, "A man able to commit the sins he commits can never have been any good, Lord Smythe. He might have not acted on it before, but I think the novel makes a point in showing how rotten he is and always has been."
Lord Smythe raises his eyebrow at that, "So, Lady Catherine, you do not believe that a human being can change? That we can turn good or evil any minute, depending on our own decisions as much as on what other people do to us?"
Lady Catherine is suddenly sitting bolt upright, looking Lord Smythe directly into his eyes and pronouncing her next words very distinctly, "I believe that some people are evil while others are good, and I believe it is our duty to cast out those who are corrupt and profligate. I believe that the claim that our own decisions are determined by other people's actions is a cowardly excuse, and anyone who uses it cannot call himself a real man. And..." her eyes narrow as she stares at Lord Smythe, "I do not believe that the sins we commit can ever be redeemed."
The silence that follows could be cut with a knife. Kurt and Frank have stopped collecting the dishes; Nick and Jeff have stopped serving the fish. Everyone is staring either at Lord Smythe or at Lady Catherine, holding their breaths and waiting for Lord Smythe's reply.
Lord Smythe is returning Lady Catherine's glare, his eyes searching for something in her gaze. Then, slowly, a grin starts to spread on his face, and he raises his glass.
"I drink to that," he says. His voice is sounding indifferent again, but the expression in his eyes is cold. "I drink to the most narrow-minded worldview I ever encountered." He drains his glass and puts it down with so much force that for a moment Kurt believes it will crack in his tight grasp. However, this seems to be the sign for everyone to start moving again – Jeff hurriedly puts down the fish in front of Lord Huntington, Kurt fetches the last dish from Lady Emily's place, and Lord Henry, Sir Reginald and Lady Emily start talking simultaneously.
Lord Smythe and Lady Catherine do not talk to each other throughout the rest of the dinner, and the conversation between the guests remains civil until the end of the last course. Kurt feels relived. Not that he personally minds the disputes between Lord Smythe and Lady Catherine much, but he knows that they not only make Nick frown at Lord Smythe, but also unnerve Jeff, who hates any kind of quarrel on principle.
Sir Robert is the first one to set down his spoon after having finished his sorbet. He wipes his mouth on his napkin, carefully folds it and places it next to his plate. "Well," he says, pushing his chair back and rising from his seat, "That was a very enjoyable evening, but I will go to bed now. Goodnight."
"You can't be serious, Robert," Lord Smythe says, looking incredulously at his friend. "It's not even past eleven yet."
"That is true, but since we will travel every early tomorrow, I think I will retreat to my room now to get enough sleep," Sir Robert answers. His eyes search the room for a second before they land on Kurt, and he smiles kindly, "Kurt, could I ask you to come up with me for a moment? I have a few requests concerning the luggage."
Kurt shoots a quick look at Mr Moore to ask for permission to leave the dining room, and when Mr Moore nods encouragingly, he quickly sets down the wine jug and answers, "Of course, Sir."
"You're a spoilsport, Robert," Lord Smythe says, smiling disappointedly, "But I guess there's no point in trying to convince you to stay, right?"
Sir Robert merely smiles and lets his hand rest for a moment on Lord Smythe's shoulder, squeezing it almost affectionately as he walks past him, "Goodnight, Sebastian."
Lord Smythe sighs and answers, "Goodnight, Robert" before he turns to Lord Huntington, who is eager to secure his attention by asking him which Christmas concert he would like to attend, while Kurt hurries after Sir Robert, who swiftly takes the stairs up to his bedroom.
When Kurt closes the door behind him, Sir Robert is standing at the window, gazing out into the dark night, a thoughtful expression on his face. Kurt waits for a moment, but when Sir Robert shows no sign of acknowledging his presence, he politely clears his throat, "You wanted to inform me about the packing, Sir?"
Sir Robert looks up, startled. It takes him a moment to snap out of his thoughts, but then he nods. "Yes, I did. I would like to ask you to only pack some of the lighter travelling clothes and the evening attire, but leave the hunting gear and the rest of the clothes here."
"So you will return to us after Christmas?" Kurt asks. Sir Robert nods, smiling almost regretfully. "If experience has told me anything, it is that Christmas at Lady Isabella's place leaves most of her guests in a hurry to depart afterwards." He sighs and starts to shrug out of his tailcoat. Within a split second, Kurt stands behind him to assist him, carefully folding the jacket over his arm and starting to undo the cufflinks. "I trust that we will be back in mid-January," Sir Robert adds.
Kurt nods, carefully keeping the disappointment from showing on his face. He had hoped for them to be away longer, maybe even until late February or early March. He certainly wouldn't have minded being spared the company of Lord Smythe for a little while. But then, he thinks as he moves to put Sir Robert's waistcoat back into the wardrobe, it means almost a month of solitude at Bailey Hall. And that surely is nothing to complain about.
When he turns around to help Sir Robert loose his collar, he notices the observant look in the other man's eyes as he says, "Kurt, may I ask you a question?"
Unsure about where this is going, Kurt nods again. Sir Robert looks at him inquiringly, "I have noticed that you haven't been treated very favourably by Sebastian or Reginald."
Kurt swallows nervously, unsure as to what to reply to that. Sir Robert apparently isn't waiting for an answer, as he continues, "I imagine it must be hard for you, being confronted like this when entering a new position, and I just want to know that you shouldn't take it to heart, Kurt. Nothing about all this has really anything to do with you."
Kurt thinks about all the insults, all the hurtful remarks aimed his way, and replies carefully, "Sometimes, that is... hard to believe, Sir."
"I'm sure it is, but Sebastian is a good man," Sir Robert says. Somehow, Kurt feels that he is talking more to himself now than directing his words at Kurt. "He's one of my closest friends, and I chose my friends carefully. He's... he has lost his way a little, that is all. And it'll pass, I am sure. For now, I'm sorry that you're amongst the ones he is taking it out on."
Kurt notices that while Sir Robert is defending Lord Smythe, he hasn't said a word about Sir Reginald. Apparently, Sir Reginald isn't to be excused, he's just plain mean. Sir Robert smiles at him when he hands him his shirt, "Sebastian has a good heart, and he's a fair employer, Kurt. I hope he will try to display this a little more in the future. But I'm sure you will feel quite at home at Bailey Hall in no time."
Kurt is almost absolutely sure that nothing in this world will ever be able to convince him to that Lord Smythe has a heart, let alone a good one. But Sir Robert is looking at him with so much conviction, that Kurt can only reply, "I'm sure I will, Sir."
When he collects Sir Robert's shoes, he thinks that Lord Smythe really doesn't deserve Sir Robert as a friend.
Maybe it's the constant sound of raindrops rapping against the small window, or the noise the wind makes, ruffling the leaves and branches of every tree in the park outside. Or maybe it's the fact that Jeff keeps on snoring, even though Kurt has shook him half-awake twice already. Maybe it's the darkness that somehow seems heavier than usually, but whatever the reason, Kurt finds himself unable to fall asleep.
He has no idea what time it is, but it must be well after two in the morning. He groans and buries his face deeper into his pillow, tugging his blanket closer around his shoulders. The lords went to bed relatively early, at least for their standards, and Kurt was quite glad to have an opportunity to get some sleep before rising early, preparing breakfast and then packing the rest of Sir Reginald's and Lord Henry's luggage. But whatever he tries, he just can't go to sleep.
He flops onto his back, staring into the darkness and thinking about the evening. The conversation between Lady Catherine and Lord Smythe, Sir Robert trying to reassure him, how Jeff had dropped a bowl in the kitchen and received a terrible scolding from Mr Moore...
Suddenly, Kurt sits bolt upright in his bed, remembering that there actually was something he completely forgot about. When they were bringing the dishes down to the kitchen, Harriet, who looked dead on her feet, said that she had yet to extinguish the fire in all the rooms of the west wing. Kurt, feeling sorry for her, promised he would look after the fires, and ushered her to go to bed.
And he had remembered his promise and looked into every room on the first and on the second floor, except for... "The library," Kurt curses under his breath. He completely forgot about the library. Hastily, he throws the blanket away and climbs out of bed. For a moment he considers changing into his uniform, because should any of the gentlemen or, even worse, Mr Moore catch him wandering around the house in his nightshirt, he will never hear the end of it. But now he is really worried and simply doesn't have the time to put on his uniform, so he settles for his trousers and a shirt, hurriedly ties his shoelaces and lights a candle. Jeff continues to snore throughout the noise Kurt is making, and Kurt is pretty sure he'll find him still sound asleep when he returns.
Quickly, he hurries out of the room and through the corridors of the house. He does not take the servant stairs: to save time, he uses the corridors in the northern wing, tiptoeing past the chambers of Lord Smythe and then Lord Huntington and Lord Edmund, up another flight of stairs until he finally reaches the library.
When he opens the door he is relieved to see that the fire has burned down, and only the faintest glimmer of dying embers is visible in the darkness. Of course nothing happened; of course he worried for nothing. It is not likely that a fire laid out carefully by the kitchen maids could get out of control, but really, you never know. One open window, one little draft in this room filled with books and paper, and the house could burn down within no time.
He checks the fire one last time and carefully puts out the ashes. Satisfied and relieved, he makes his way back to his room, only realising in front of Lord Huntington's room that now he could have used the servant's stairs. But then again, it's almost three in morning, and lords and ladies alike had much wine to drink. It's not just unlikely, it is next to impossible that Kurt will encounter any of them in the middle of the night.
But nevertheless, he takes extra care not to make any noise as he tiptoes past their rooms.
He is halfway down the corridor when suddenly, he hears a thud, closely followed by a loud crash, and he stops dead in his tracks. Attentively, he listens for the source of the noise which seems to have come from behind one of the doors to Lord Smythe's private chambers. Carefully, he tiptoes further down the corridor, until he hears another noise. It's some sort of ruffling, followed by what sounds like a muffled curse, which, if he hasn't lost his orientation completely, is coming from behind the door to Lord Smythe's bedchamber.
Slowly, Kurt approaches the room, shielding the light of the candle from the door in front of him. Now he can see that there is a small stream of light beneath the crack of the door – so Lord Smythe is still awake. Careful to not make a sound, Kurt leans closer to the door, trying to determine whether he should knock and see whether Lord Smythe needs help – as much as he despises him, his employer could have hurt himself, after all. But then again, Lord Smythe will inquire why Kurt is lurking around in front of his chamber in the middle of the night, and the only explanation Kurt has to offer does not exactly cast him in the light of being a reliable servant.
Nevertheless, his concern wins over his resentment, and he has just decided to knock when he hears a muffled voice inquiring, "Do you think that woke anyone?"
Kurt's hand stops, his knuckles only inches away from touching the wood. It's not the voice of Lord Smythe he heard. It's the voice of Sir Reginald.
"Nobody has their rooms close enough to hear anything going in here," the dry voice of Lord Smythe replies. He emphasises his point by not bothering to lower his voice in the least. "Can you please try not to step on the shards?"
"I'm sorry about that vase," Sir Reginald replies, and there is another ruffling sound. "I presume it was a very valued heirloom that has been in the family for centuries, right?"
"Reginald, I don't give a damn about the vase," Lord Smythe replies.
Kurt realises that he is pressing his ear against the door, and as inappropriate as his behaviour certainly is, he can't bring himself to leave. What in the name of reason is Sir Reginald doing in Lord Smythe's room – at three o'clock in the morning, when they all should be asleep? Kurt can't really make sense of it – if both of them are still up, they could have gone to the drawing room, and, judging by their way to spend previous nights, could have asked for some wine and a deck of cards.
So Kurt, confused by what exactly is going on in there, keeps his ear pressed to the wood, aware that if anyone catches him in this position, it will almost definitely cost him his post, and yet too curious to find out what is going on to leave now.
Oddly enough, Sir Reginald doesn't reply to Lord Smythe's statement. There is silence for a long moment, before Kurt hears the creaking of the bed and the rustling of sheets. He frowns, puzzled, wondering whatever they are doing in there. Are they walking across the bed now to avoid stepping on the pieces of porcelain? And why haven't they rung for somebody to clean up the mess Sir Reginald apparently made? Certainly Lord Smythe has no scruples waking some of the servants, no matter the hour. Why are they trying to be so secretive?
His thoughts are interrupted by the next sound, and he almost loses his balance when he hears a loud moan coming from behind the door, followed by a low, guttural, "God dammit, Sebastian!" Another groan follows, louder this time, and the bed creaks again.
Kurt bites down on his bottom lip hard to keep himself from making any noise, and he feels heat rising to his cheeks. He suddenly has a very clear idea of what these two are doing in there – after all, he is old enough to know exactly what these kind of noises mean. Back at Chawton, the footman Claus received nightly visits by one of the kitchen maids, and since his room was next to Kurt's, Kurt became more familiar with the sounds of nightly activities than he ever would have wanted to. But hearing them coming out of a room in which apparently Lord Smythe and Sir Reginald are alone is something Kurt wasn't prepared for.
Instead of turning and hurrying away like he should, he presses his ear closer against the door, and now that he really concentrates, he can hear the sound of fabric rustling against fabric, and the rapid breathing of two people.
For a moment, he can only hear these new noises that fit so well into the image his mind is slowly coming up with, before Sir Reginald's breathless voice can be heard again, "I bet Arthur doesn't dare to come into your room late at night, right?"
Lord Smythe answers with a low chuckle, and though his voice is more hoarse than usual, it doesn't sound nearly as affected as Sir Reginald's when he replies, "Don't tell me you're still jealous of Arthur. Not after visiting his lovely wife three times this last week."
The rustling sounds stop for a moment, and Sir Reginald sounds very guilty when he asks, "How did you notice that?"
"I'm an observant person, and, honestly, you two are not very discreet," Lord Smythe replies. "I guess you thought shagging Arthur's wife would give you some sort of advantage over him?"
"Please, Sebastian, you know that Isabella doesn't mean anything to..."
He is interrupted by the cold laugh of Lord Smythe, "Please, Reginald. I couldn't care possibly less about what you and Isabella do together. Though I find it amusing that Robert and Lady Catherine are probably the only truly virtuous people in this house. Though of course in the case of Lady Catherine, that is because her goal in life is to be more holy than all apostles combined."
"But you asked me to come to you tonight, didn't you?"
"Yes, Reginald," Lord Smythe sighs, "I asked you come."
"So you care more for me than you do for Arthur, right, Sebastian?"
"Do you want an honest answer to that, Reginald? I don't think I care much for either one of you. But you are at least quiet while we're doing it. Arthur is terribly noisy, and I'd rather not be caught by anyone in my own house. So you were the best choice."
Sir Reginald's voice sounds so whiny that Kurt frowns involuntarily, "Why do you say these things, Sebastian?"
"Because they're true, and because you asked," Lord Smythe replies, his voice growing impatient. "Shut up and turn around now, will you?"
Kurt realises that his mouth is hanging slightly open, and he quickly closes it. Now he has no doubts about what the two men are doing in here, and the realisation of what this actually means hits him with a force he is not prepared for. Suddenly, a very vivid image of two bodies, two male bodies, moving together, pressed against one another tightly, making the sounds that are now coming from the other side of the door, rises before Kurt's eyes, and quickly he backs away from the door.
Later, he isn't quite sure why he chose to return to the library, or remembers how he blew out his candle and left it on a drawer in the corridor, but the next thing he knows is that he's sitting in one of the armchairs in the library, staring into the darkness and trying to process what he has just discovered.
Lord Smythe and Sir Reginald are not just friends. Friends do not visit each other in their bedrooms in the middle of the nights. Friends do not have competitive conversation about who prefers who to whom. Friends do not do what these two, judging by the noises Kurt heard, are doing right now.
Obviously, Lord Smythe didn't just invite friends to stay at Bailey Hall. Kurt's fingers curl around the armrests of his chair when he realises that at least two of the men are not Lord Smythe's friends. They're his lovers.
Now, so many things Kurt did not understand before suddenly start to make sense.
The weird rivalry between Sir Reginald and Lord Huntington, Lord Smythe's remark "They can be quite... challenging at times", the dancing, the hug between Lord Smythe and Lord Huntington... Kurt almost laughs when he remember Lady Catherine's question from earlier this evening, "Why aren't you married yet, Lord Smythe?" Well, it looks like Kurt has found the answer to that question. And now he keeps wondering whether this is also the reason why Lady Catherine has been acting so hostile towards Lord Smythe. Because that night at the ball, she understood something Kurt still has trouble to process.
Taking a deep breath, Kurt lets his head fall against the rest of the chair and tries to sort his thoughts. Lord Smythe, his employer, master of Bailey Hall, is apparently not interested in women as lovers, but instead has some sort of relationship with Sir Reginald and, if Kurt understood their conversation correctly, Lord Huntington.
The concept of love between two men is not unfamiliar to Kurt. There was a small scandal in Chawton once, when the nephew of Mrs Wilbourne, the wife of the pub-owner, was arrested and charged in London for committing acts of gross indecency with another man. The charges were dropped eventually, but the villagers, who had neither heard of nor ever seen the young man before, didn't stop talking about it for weeks.
Kurt was not yet fourteen at that time, but he remembers that his father had visited the pub far more often than usually, as if to demonstrate his support for the family. He also remembers that nobody had openly talked about what exactly these men had done wrong. Everyone was quick with insults and talking about eternal damnation, but Kurt, not getting what "acts of gross indecency" actually meant, had eventually asked his father. His father had not been comfortable with the topic either, but he had hesitantly explained to Kurt that some men didn't feel any attraction towards women. Instead, they preferred other men as sexual partners. And while his father didn't express his personal opinion on the matter, he made it very clear what both church and state thought of such acts.
Since then, whenever Kurt came into touch with the topic (which wasn't very often), he remembered the resentment and hate of the other people, not only towards the two men, but also towards their family. But so far, the issue has been something Kurt didn't have a direct connection to, but something that, if it happened at all, it happened somewhere far away, in London, or in Paris. Having overheard his employer and his lover only a few floors away from his own bedroom forces Kurt to face the issue like he never had to before.
Gnawing on his bottom lip, Kurt looks to the window. Now that his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, he can make out the bookshelves and the windowsill. It's not like he condemns anyone. He knows that the church claims it to be a sin, and that the state deems it illegal. But his relationship to the church is a difficult one already, and he has troubles believing that a heavenly father who is ready to forgive sins like stealing, prostitution or murder will punish someone for falling in love with the wrong person. When his father had talked about it, he didn't make it sound like anyone had much of a choice in these matters, and from having observed the development of some relationships, Kurt knows that sometimes falling in love brings more pain than joy. He remembers John, the stable boy, and his desperate obsession with Lady Janet, or Abigail, the housemaid, and her unrequited crush on Mr Johnson, the teacher of the Shaftesbury heirs. None of them chose to fall in love, and none of them was able to change anything about their feelings. Why should this be different between two men – or two women?
For Kurt himself, love has remained a mostly abstract concept so far. Yes, he has looked at the girls around him, knowing that he is expected one day to fall in love with, or at least to marry one of them. And he likes their company, very much so. But overhearing the other village boys talk about their sexual adventures, or listening involuntarily to Claus and his kitchen maid, he wonders why he has never felt any sexual desire towards a girl.
When he thinks about Lord Smythe and Sir Reginald together, he has to admit that apart from the fact that they are both horrible human beings, he doesn't find the idea of two men being lovers appalling at all. Nevertheless, the knowledge of Lord Smythe and Sire Reginald's affair brings so many complications with it – so many complications Kurt doesn't feel ready for.
He buries his face in his hands, knowing that his growing headache is equally to blame on the lack of sleep and his discovery. Briefly, he wonders whether he is the only one in this house who knows about this. Lord Huntington is obviously aware of what is going on, and Lady Catherine seems to be too. Sir Robert might have an idea, but Kurt is unsure how much he really knows. As for the servants, he can't imagine that Mr Moore or Mrs Seymour have any clue what is going on.
And then... there's Nick.
He is somebody Kurt hasn't considered so far at all. What does Nick know about all this? He has spent his whole life at Bailey Hall. Could Lord Smythe's preferences have escaped his attention? Kurt thinks about some moments that start to make more sense now: Nick refusing to speculate about Sir Reginald's and Lord Huntington's rivalry, Nick trying to distract Kurt from staring at Lord Smythe and Lord Huntington hugging each other –
"He knows," Kurt mumbles. "He definitely knows about this."
For a moment, he wonders whether he could tell Nick what he witnessed. He has the desperate urge to talk to someone about it, just to clear his head, to hear the opinion of someone he trusts. He's not sure how to deal with this newly acquired knowledge, and he really could use some advice. But so far, Nick has been extremely loyal to Lord Smythe, and Kurt is not sure how he will react when Kurt tells him about what he knows – or what he assumes. And then - what if he's wrong? What if Nick is not aware of the real nature of Lord Smythe's 'friendships'?
Suddenly, he realises what kind of power this knowledge gives him over Lord Smythe. Only the slightest rumour of his sexual preferences spread amongst the servants and the villagers, let alone his upper-class friends, could ruin his reputation forever. Kurt wouldn't even need proof for that – once a rumour is out there, people will watch, people will think about what they already witnessed in a new light, and many of them will draw the same conclusions Kurt has come to right now. He holds his breath when he realises that it is actually in his power to break Lord Smythe completely.
But at the same time, he knows that he could never to such a thing. Because as horrible as Lord Smythe is, and as much as Kurt despises him and really wants to pour boiling soup down his lap sometimes, he could never ruin the life of another human being.
In the end, he isn't sure how much time he spends in the library. Half an hour? An hour? More? Finally, he realises that he has to return to his room, since it won't be long now until they have to get up again. He regrets having left the candle behind as he fumbles his way out of the library and down the corridor, this time taking the servant stairs. Partly because there he will find this way even in the dark, partly because he doesn't want to risk running into Sir Reginald when the man returns to his room.
So he slowly makes his way down the stairs, his mind still racing with thoughts about what he just found out, and what this means: for him, for Lord Smythe, for his relationship to Nicholas, for his life at Bailey Hall.
Because whether he likes it or not, now he is part of a big secret, a secret that has the potential to destroy Lord Smythe and everyone around him.
Kurt is still lying awake in his bed when Nicks knocks against the door to wake him and Jeff.
