Author's Note: The last chapter was my least-reviewed chapter ever, so I can only guess that most of you were incredibly disappointed that it was Blaine-free. I'll just say for now that the last chapter was more important to the plot than it may have seemed. Rest assured that it was the last Blaineless chapter for a while, as Kurt is off to Dalton Abbey.

I had just written a draft of the beginning of this chapter, with Kurt is saying goodbye to his family and worrying about his father's health, when I heard the news that Cory Monteith had died. It was kind of hard to go back and revise/expand that section after that, so it's a bit less polished than would be ideal. It's sad to think that, while I can still write the rest of the Finley storyline I had planned, the Glee writers won't have the same opportunity to finish up their Finn storylines and, worst of all, the real person behind these characters won't get to live out whatever he had planned for the future. RIP Cory, you will be missed.

That said, this will not be a dark chapter. It has a fun little conversation I've wanted to write for some time. Pride and Prejudice fans will notice that Kurt quotes Mr. Darcy on the subject of "fine eyes".

At last the day came for the Hummel family to quit their lodgings. The house at Pultney Street was bustling with activity well before dawn. Finley and Kurt helped each other carry their trunks downstairs, Finley grumbling that his stepbrother's luggage was much heavier than his own.

"You spend half your time in uniform," Kurt said. "I am a civilian; I need a suit for every occasion."

"Feels more like three suits for every occasion."

The young men loaded everything except Kurt's trunk and bags onto the family's carriage while Mr. and Mrs. Hummel made a final inspection of their lodgings. Once these tasks were completed the family shared a simple morning meal of toast and tea. Kurt was almost too excited to eat. He wound up slipping half his portion onto Finley's plate, though it did not remain there long before it was consumed.

Kurt was still toying with his crusts when Lord Dalton's coach arrived, followed closely by a curricle. The two drivers quickly took charge of Kurt's baggage, leaving him with nothing to do but make his goodbyes. Eager as he had been for this moment, now that it was here he felt a pang of sadness. He had never been separated from his father for more than a few nights. Dalton Abbey was not such a great distance from Lima, but even a few miles might be too much if his father's health took a sudden turn for the worse. Though they had come to Bath for the sake of Mr. Hummel's health, Kurt did not feel confident that the holiday had led to a lasting improvement. As he shook his father's hand, he wondered whether his grip was not weaker than it had been before.

No sooner had this thought crossed his mind than he found his own hand being clasped so tightly that it hurt. He gasped and looked up to see a smile on his father's lips. "See, there's still life in this old dog," Mr. Hummel said, relaxing his grip. "Have a good time, Kurt. We'll see you in a few weeks."

After shaking hands with Finley, allowing himself to be kissed by his stepmother, and extracting a promise from everyone that they would send for him immediately if any crisis arose in Lima, Kurt hurried out to the street. Lord Dalton's driver was waiting to help him into the coach. Kurt turned and waved to his family, still gathered in the doorway. Then he stepped up into the coach, the driver shut the door behind him, and his journey to Dalton Abbey truly began.

Lord Dalton's coach was larger than the Hummel family carriage, and with only the three men as passengers not overly crowded. The seat cushions were comfortable, and the movement of the carriage was steady and relatively smooth. Yet Kurt could not feel himself entirely at ease. The problem was not Lord Dalton's carriage but rather Lord Dalton himself.

Kurt was ashamed at this thought, for the older gentleman was not only his host but had been perfectly correct in his behavior. Though not a sparkling conversationalist, Lord Dalton had made the usual polite remarks about the weather and the inconveniences of travel. He had enquired most kindly about his family's health and whether they had enjoyed their stay in Bath. Kurt could object to nothing in his words or manner, yet still he found himself wishing that Lord Dalton were in London already. Then Kurt might speak freely to Blaine, even hold his hand, without worrying that every word, every look, would betray them.

Blaine himself said very little during the first part of their journey. Kurt was not certain whether this was due to caution or tiredness. His friend apologized repeatedly for yawning and eventually dozed off, his head drooping down almost to his chest.

"You must excuse my son," said Lord Dalton. "He is not by nature an early riser. Please feel free to nap if you like."

"Thank you, my Lord, but I feel quite awake," Kurt replied. "I am more lark than owl myself, and I always find it difficult to sleep on the road. I prefer to look out the window and watch the scenery pass by. We seem to be making good time."

"Are you sorry to be leaving Bath behind you, Mr. Hummel?"

"I had a very pleasant time in Bath, my Lord."

"No regrets, then?" To Kurt's astonishment, Lord Dalton actually chuckled at his own question. Clearly he believed Kurt had something to regret of an amusing nature.

"I never did make it to the hedge maze at Sydney Gardens," Kurt said. Perhaps Blaine had mentioned this to his father. If not, it still seemed a safe enough response. "Mr. Anderson and I had intended to go, but the weather was bad that day and then…well, we were so busy with other things." Kurt found it impossible not to recollect certain pleasant ways in which he and Blaine had passed the time together, though he tried to push such thoughts from his mind. "Other engagements I mean, like Miss Pierce's fondue party," he concluded, pleased he had managed to end on this wholesome note.

Lord Dalton nodded approvingly. "That Miss Pierce seemed a charming girl."

"I thought her an excellent dancer," Kurt said. "At the public ball, I mean. I had asked the Master of Ceremonies to introduce me to a lady who danced well, but I had not expected so graceful a partner as Miss Pierce."

"Nor one so pretty?"

"Well, better to look at a pretty face for two dances than a plain one," said Kurt, trying his best to smile knowingly. He understood now what Lord Dalton was driving at, and by no means wished to give the impression that he was indifferent to feminine beauty. Still, he saw no reason to suggest a stronger attachment to Miss Pierce than actually existed. "Though I must confess that Miss Pierce is not of the type I most admire. She is an attractive young lady to be sure, but I am rarely impressed by fair-haired women. Perhaps it is because the loveliest one I have ever known is soon to be my sister."

"I thought Miss Pierce a very pretty girl," said Blaine unexpectedly. He had lifted his head and was stretching his shoulders. "She has a remarkably fine complexion."

Kurt had thought Miss Pierce's complexion rather sallow, but did not contradict Blaine on this point. He was playing a role for his father, and Kurt must play his part as well. "She is pretty enough, I do not say otherwise. Yet there is more to beauty than a fine complexion. The figure must be considered as well."

"Can you find fault with her figure?" Blaine asked. "I grant that she is not full formed, but a slim, upright figure must always be considered elegant. Indeed that word seems a perfect description of her. Had Miss Pierce no charms except those endowed to her by nature then I might dismiss her as no better than a thousand other pretty girls. But when a fine complexion and figure is complemented by grace, good taste, and accomplishment, surely that is worthy of a man's admiration."

This seemed such an odd description of the good natured but silly Miss Pierce that Kurt began to suspect that Blaine was speaking of someone else entirely. He felt himself growing warm under the collar. "You refer to her skill as a dancer," he said, adjusting his neckcloth.

"Although she dances well, it was her singing that enchanted me," Blaine said.

Kurt was sure of it now. Miss Pierce's singing had been pleasant, but not particularly accomplished. "Were you really so impressed by her singing?" he asked, hoping that Lord Dalton would attribute his blushes to thoughts of pretty girls.

"I was more than impressed," Blaine said. "I was moved."

"I did not realize she was such a talented young lady," said Lord Dalton.

"Mr. Anderson is generous in his praise, my Lord," Kurt said. Having understood the game that Blaine was playing, he could not resist joining in. "Personally I would say that Miss Lopez was an equally fine singer. As for looks, a clear brunette complexion and glossy black hair are more my idea of beauty."

"I suppose she is handsome enough, if you care for that type," said Blaine. "I thought her a bit short to be considered a real beauty."

"She seemed the perfect height to me," Kurt replied. "And those eyes! I have often meditated upon the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow. If there is a sight more lovely than dark eyes looking up at you through long black lashes, well, I do not know what it is."

"I suppose we must agree to disagree on that point," Blaine said.

"Better to quarrel over which lady is the greater beauty than to quarrel over the lady herself," said Lord Dalton. "It is good for two friends to have different tastes in such matters."

"I quite agree," said Kurt. "To each his own, and may each be pleased with his own choice." Feeling he ought to say more to keep up the role of the country swain, he added "Are there many young ladies to choose from in your neighborhood, Mr. Anderson?"

"Not so very many," Blaine said. "Dalton is a small town."

"It might seem larger, if you did not refuse every invitation," said Lord Dalton. "Mr. Hummel may find it dull sitting at home with you night after night."

"You forget that I am from the country, my Lord," said Kurt. "Though I enjoy balls and parties, I do not expect to attend an event every night. I am used to simple amusements: music, cards, good books, and good conversation."

"See Father, Mr. Hummel is not afraid to be left alone with me," Blaine said with a smile.

"Oh, you will not be alone," said Lord Dalton. "I have written to invite your aunt to stay at Dalton Abbey while I am away."

Blaine's smile vanished. "Do you really think that is necessary?" he asked, his voice sounding strained.

"I hope it is not," his father replied. "But you are not used to entertaining guests. Lady Dalton will be pleased to serve as hostess for you. I am sure you would not want to make a bad impression on Mr. Hummel."