March – April 1851
There's a loud thud when a pair of black boots hits the pavement next to Kurt. "I believe you forgot those."
Kurt sighs and looks up from the long row of shoes lined up next to him. He has to squint against the bright rays of spring sun to make out Jane's dark hair against the blue sky.
"Do not tell me you're slacking off the moment our employer has left home," she says. With one swift motion she sits down next to Kurt and smooths down her skirts. Kurt grins and hands her an old piece of cloth.
"Never. You know me," he replies and picks up the boot he was polishing. "I am the prime example of a dutiful footman."
"Of course you are," Jane replies. "Where is the other prime example of a dutiful footman, if I may ask?"
"Currently located at Bath, I believe," Kurt replies, grinning. Jane rolls her eyes, "Not Nick. I was asking about Jeff, silly."
Kurt leans back against the warm stone of the stairs behind him; feeling once again relieved that Sebastian's plan worked flawlessly. Nobody doubted Kurt's story, though there was some regret from Jeff and Harriet upon hearing the news of Nick's sudden departure in the midst of their celebration. But when Sebastian personally made an early appearance at the breakfast table in the kitchen to congratulate the newly engaged couple (and to hint at something like a farewell bonus), clad, as always, impeccably in a travelling outfit, the mood lightened immediately.
"Mr Moore called him half an hour ago," he replies, scratching at a speck of mud with his fingernails. "He abandoned me and all of these shoes without any hesitation."
"You poor thing," Jane says, and her tone is dry enough to communicate exactly how little sympathy she feels for him. "Sitting out here in the sunshine, while other people have burned their fingers helping with the laundry all morning – I can hardly imagine the pain." Kurt grins and nudges her elbow, only for Jane to elbow him right back. When she bends down to pick up a pair of heavy riding boots, she asks, "Have you heard what Mr Moore mentioned this morning?"
"His discussion with Mrs Seymour about whether all the curtains needed to be washed or merely the ones in the dining rooms?"
"No," Jane replies. "About the upcoming event in Hyde Park."
"Oh," Kurt says and sits up a little straighter. "Yes, that."
"It's been the main talk in all the newspapers lately," Jane says, slapping the boot against the stone to free it from some of the mud. "They still don't know whether the building will be ready in time. But apparently, his royal highness is absolutely frantic to see this project be a success."
"Well, it would be quite the sensation, wouldn't it?" Kurt replies. "The whole empire, brought together under one roof."
"Palace," Jane says, rolling her eyes. "That's what they calling it apparently. If it gets finished in time, that is."
They scrub at the shoes in their laps quietly for a moment, before Jane adds, "Apparently, everyone will be able to attend. There will be entrance fees for only a few pennies. And to think that we will be in London soon…" She smiles, her gaze directed at something far away. "It would be amazing to see something like this, wouldn't it?"
Kurt feels the expensive leather beneath his fingertips and the warm rays of sunlight warming his neck. "Yes," he replies quietly. "Yes, it would."
Kurt finds Jeff much later that afternoon in one of the storerooms, his expression pure dissatisfaction as he scrubs at a large punch bowl.
"Mr Moore wants me to go over the silver one last time," he groans when he spots Kurt in the doorway. He scowls at the bowl in front of him. "We haven't even used this recently."
"Think of it as his farewell present," Kurt grins and sits down next to him. "Do you fancy some help?"
"Yes, please," Jeff says, his face so full of earnest gratitude that Kurt has to laugh. For a while, they sit side by side in companionable silence, the only sound made by cloth moving over metal in practised rhythms while the light outside grows fainter.
"Do you think Nick is angry with me?" Jeff asks suddenly. When Kurt looks up, startled at the question, he sees the puzzled and worried expression on Jeff's face, so alien on his usually cheerful features, and he hesitates for a moment before he answers, "Why do think he would be angry?"
"I don't know," Jeff sighs. "It's just, the way he left was all very abrupt and sudden, and we didn't really say goodbye and I hardly spoke to him at our engagement celebration, and he hasn't written anything…" He trails off, then looks at Kurt. "So, do you think he's angry?"
Kurt contemplates his answer for a moment. For the first time, he can appreciate how uncomfortable it must be for Nick to be always stuck in the middle between him and Sebastian.
"I don't think he's angry," he finally replies. "But you know Nick. He doesn't deal well with… change, and with people leaving. I think he's incredibly happy for you, but you're his best friend, and I think that some small, very selfish part of him is… not angry, but sad that you're leaving us." He shrugs, "I know I'm sad, as happy as I am for you and Harriet."
Jeff nods slowly, his unhappy gaze still directed at the fork in his hands.
"Kurt?" Jeff asks. Kurt turns to look at him and the expression on Jeff's face is serious when he asks, "Promise me that you will take care of Nick?"
Kurt swallows, his throat suddenly dry and his eyes burning. "I will," he says. "I promise."
"Good," Jeff nods, "Because I will ask Nick to look after you, and Jane already promised to keep an eye on both of you." He grins sadly, "I won't have to worry if I know you'll be there for each other."
"We'll stick together, I promise," Kurt repeats. His hand grasps Jeff's shoulder affectionately. "But who will look out for you, Jeff?"
Jeff shrugs, his grin happier now. "Harriet, of course. That is the whole point of marriage after all. And my entire family will be in the neighbourhood too, they are used to looking out for me." He sighs and lets the fork clatter down into the box where the rest of the cutlery waits to be sorted back into drawers. "This post as a footman was really more than I hoped for, even though I'm not very good at it. Everyone here is so kind, almost like a second family. And I got to see London, which I never thought I would." He smiles at Kurt, "I hope they'll take you with them this summer."
"So do I," Kurt says, resolutely ignoring the memories and sinking feeling in his stomach this topic never fails to conjure up. "But with you gone, they don't have many other choices left, do they?"
"Say Hello to Obaysch for me," Jeff says, sighing wistfully at the memory of the hippopotamus. "I would have loved to take another trip to the zoo, but one can't have everything. But promise me you'll visit him!"
"I will," Kurt promises. He thinks about it for a second, then grins and adds, jokingly, "You know, Obaysch would be a lovely name for your first-born."
Jeff's expression is an upsetting mixture of earnest horror and serious contemplation.
The next days are filled with routine, but there is a sad sort of finality that hangs over the mundane, everyday tasks of the household. Kurt can't stop thinking about the limited number of times that he'll sit next to Jeff at breakfast or walk with him down to the village. And though Jeff is mostly his cheerful self, there is a decided sadness in his eyes when his gaze falls on Nick's empty seat at the table.
Sebastian and Nick stay at Bath for two whole weeks and the only correspondence Kurt receives after more than a week is a handwritten note, carefully hidden between the pages of a penny dreadful that the mailman delivers to him one morning.
"He is doing alright," it says, in Sebastian's cursive letters, "He is hurting, but I fear that cannot be helped for the time being. I think it might be easier for him to stay away though, so I will wait until he communicates whether he is ready to return home." Kurt burns the note before he lets Jeff borrow the magazine, but he makes sure to send Nick the date of Jeff's and Harriet's departure. He's not certain whether Sebastian is correct in his assessment that it's easier for Nick to stay away. Historically, it's been easier for Sebastian to stay away from his problems, Kurt realises with a pang of sadness and disappointment that hits him quite unexpectedly after the last couple of weeks. Therefore, he wants to make certain Nick knows how much time he has left to spend with Jeff, so that he has nothing to regret when the time comes to say goodbye.
It's late in the afternoon of the fifteenth day of their absence when the clattering of carriage wheels announces the return of Nick and Sebastian, who "… will never learn to tell us poor people when he's feeling inclined to show up here again," Mrs Bertram grumbles as she shoos Maud and Beth around to get started on a pastry and a pudding for dinner. Jeff, Kurt and Mr Moore greet Sebastian, and Kurt feels a sense of relief when he sees that Sebastian is alone when he emerges from the carriage. He's certainly thankful they won't have to entertain any of his "friends", not when things are so fragile. He takes in Sebastian's appearance – tired, but looking healthier than during the past weeks, and just as drawn to Kurt's gaze as Kurt's is to his – before he looks to where Nick has just hopped down from the back of the carriage, his gaze drawn immediately to the blond man standing next to Kurt.
Sebastian must notice too, because he drags Kurt and Mr Moore away to give them barely sensible instructions about his luggage, which Jeff and Nick are left to unload alone. Mr Moore doesn't seem to notice, just nods diligently along with whatever Sebastian is telling him, but Kurt makes sure to squeeze his arm in a silent gesture of gratitude when Mr Moore isn't looking.
He doesn't know what Nick and Jeff discuss that morning, but once all the servants file into the kitchen for a quick lunch, things seem to be back to normal. Nick entertains everyone with stories about Bath and quietly asks about Jeff's and Harriet's wedding plans. Nothing about his expression betrays that he's more than an interested, well-meaning friend, and Kurt once more thinks sadly to himself that Nick is wasted in service when he clearly could have had a stellar career as an actor. Jeff and Harriet excitedly share their plans, and Nick's smile never wavers, not once.
Not that day, nor any day that follows.
The morning of the third day of April dawns bright and early with spring sunshine. There's a lingering coldness in the air of the courtyard, but the first buds and tiny green leafs are swaying on the branches of the nearby trees, and the driveway is lined with daffodils. They blur into spots of yellow, brown and green whenever Kurt tries to blink his tears away.
"Oh, not you too," Harriet says, smiling through her own tears as she raises her hands and brushes her fingers over Kurt's cheeks. "I knew I would cry, but you and Nick were my last hope." Kurt lets out a shaky laugh and looks to his left, where Jeff and Nick are locked in a tight embrace. Jeff's shoulders shake noticeably while Nick seems calm enough, though Kurt can't see his face from where it's pressed against Jeff's shoulder.
"Promise you'll write as soon as you've safely arrived in Dublin," Mrs Seymour instructs and hands her handkerchief onto Mrs Bertram, who blows her nose noisily. Harriet nods and lets herself be hugged by the cook and the housekeeper.
"And make sure to keep that purse of yours where you can see it," Jane warns before she presses a kiss onto Harriet's temple. "There's no need to tempt fate." Harriet nods solemnly. "Don't worry about it, Mrs Bertram helped me to sew most of the money into the seam of my dress." Kurt's gaze darts downwards, but he finds it impossible to determine where the cook has hidden the substantial amount of coins and notes Sebastian handed over to Jeff and Harriet yesterday.
"And into the lining of Jeff's pockets," Mrs Bertram adds and hiccups. "The lord knows it's enough to ensure you can make that passage five times…" Her voice breaks and Mr Moore pats her on the back. "I believe it is time," he says, his tone friendly but firm. "If you want to catch the early carriage you must be on your way to the village now."
Harriet nods and looks over at Jeff and Nick, a little uncertainly. Jeff doesn't move, but Nick has undoubtedly heard Mr Moore because he firmly starts to untangle himself from Jeff. Kurt finally catches a glimpse at his expression: his eyes are red, but his cheeks are dry, and his face is set in desperate determination when he grasps Jeff's shoulders for one last time. "I wish you all the happiness in the world," he says, his forehead touching Jeff's. "You deserve it." Jeff looks up at him, a pained expression on his face, but Nick is already stepping back, back into the line of servants gathered in the courtyard to see the couple off.
Jeff hugs Kurt one last time, his arms strong around Kurt's still smaller frame, and Kurt remembers that Jeff was the first friend he made at Bailey Hall, the first person who made him feel welcome and happy to be here. "Goodbye Jeff," he whispers, and he feels Jeff's damp cheek press against his throat for a second before the other man pulls away.
Mr Moore is the last person to step forward to shake their hands, first Harriet's, then Jeff's. "We are very proud of you both," he says, and Kurt is shocked to see the fondness in the butler's gaze when he looks at the footman who brought him to the brink of exasperation so many times. "Please remember that you'll always have a family here at Bailey Hall." Jeff makes a strangled noise, but seems unable to say anything. It's Harriet who steps forward and stands on her toes to press a kiss to Mr Moore's cheek.
"Thank you," she says and looks at the line of people with a watery smile. "Thank you, everyone of you. We'll never forget you." She takes a deep breath and grabs Jeff's hand. She looks at him, waits for him to say something, but when Jeff does nothing but let his gaze dart from Mr Moore to Kurt and Nick, always back at Nick, she gently pulls him towards the driveway. "Goodbye," she shouts, a cry echoed by the others as they wave until the couple vanishes behind the stables. Kurt wipes at his eyes and turns to say something to Nick – what, he's not sure.
But Nick has already vanished.
Nick is nowhere to be found for the rest of the day. This time, Kurt is prepared for it, and as much as he hates being useless in helping his friend cope with his heartache, he accepts that what Nick needs most is not his company or his consolations, but Kurt leaving him alone.
Sebastian seems to sense it too, because he when he walks into Mr Moore and Kurt lifting one of the heavy trunks up the stairs, he asks them to not prepare dinner this night, thus sparing the footmen the duty of attending as well. "I'll be up in the library all day anyway, I need to finish these," he says and waves with the stack of papers he's holding in his hands. "If you could send Kurt up with a plate of sandwiches and some tea later, that would be sufficient."
"Certainly, your Lordship," Mr Moore replies dutifully and Kurt uses the moment when the butler is standing with his back to Kurt to mouth a silent "Thank you" at Sebastian, whose smile deepens just the tiniest bit.
Nick doesn't return in the evening, and when Kurt brings the plate of sandwiches up to the library he can't help but voice his growing worry.
"I'd rather know where he is too," Sebastian says, frowning at the window where darkness has settled comfortably over the grounds of Bailey Hall. "But he'll be fine Kurt. He's probably hiding in one of the stables or in the attic. He's hurt, he's not stupid. There's no need for you to be picturing him stumbling through the woods, chased by wolves and looking for bread crumbs pointing him home."
Kurt blushes at that, because that may or may not have been among the things he imagined in his increasing worry. Minus the bread crumbs, of course – he not ten years old anymore. But seeing Sebastian secure in the knowledge that nothing bad is likely to happen to Nick does comfort him, and even though he tries to lie awake at night and wait for Nick's return, he must have fallen asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, Nick is already sitting at the breakfast table when Kurt arrives down in the kitchen, calmly talking to Mrs Seymour and spooning his porridge like nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. Kurt keeps his eyes on him the entire time until Nick sends him an annoyed look across the table and nudges his shin in a decided stop-fussing-over-me-gesture. He has dark circles under his eyes and looks tired, but other than that, he truly appears fine, and Kurt decides that he can't do anything but wait for the moment when Nick wants to talk about this – if he ever does.
Kurt is filling his second glass of milk when Mr Moore enters the kitchen and sits down with a heavy sigh.
"Well, I suppose our quiet days are over," he says and spreads a napkin over his immaculately clean trousers. "Or, your quiet days, I should rather say."
At these words, the kitchen quiets down significantly. "Whatever are you saying, Mr Moore?" Mrs Bertram inquires.
"I have just returned from his lordship's study," Mr Moore says and reaches for the butter. "He has informed me that he intends to travel to London at the end of the week, and that he wishes our preparations to be swift and effective as usual."
There's a rising murmur at the table and Kurt sets his toast back down. He suddenly feels sick, and his stomach turns with equal amounts of dread and hope.
"Is a departure so shortly after Jeff and Harriet leaving us not inconvenient to his Lordship?" Mrs Seymour, ever practical, enquires. "We haven't had time to look for proper replacements. Jane especially will be up to her ears in work."
"His Lordship is quite aware of our diminished numbers, of course," Mr Moore replies, "But he said, and I agree, that it'll be much easier to look for replacements in London directly. Since I will not be going, Nick and Mrs Abbot will have to share the responsibility of hiring new servants. They will undoubtedly correspond with you on the subject," Nick nods vehemently at this, "and if the replacements for Jeff and Harriet are to our satisfaction and if they are so inclined, we might take them to Bailey Hall with us at the end of the summer. In the meantime, I trust that Nick, Kurt and Jane will perform their duties with the utmost care."
Kurt's heart is pounding in his ears and he hardly recognises his own voice when he asks, "Does this mean I'm going to London as well?"
Mr Moore looks at him with genuine surprise, "Why Kurt, of course you will accompany his Lordship to London. You've had ample experience since last year, and his Lordship and I agree that you will certainly make us proud in the city as well. His lordship was very clear in his opinion that you are to accompany him this year."
Kurt looks at the other side of the table, at Mrs Seymour's dimpled smile and Mrs Bertram's proud expression and what seems the first genuine smile on Nick's lips for the past couple of weeks; and though his throat feels dry and his cheeks feel hot, there is a shiver of happiness running through his whole body.
"Thank you, Mr Moore," he croaks, "I shan't disappoint you."
The sky outside is blue, the clouds drifting away after a spring shower and bright sunlight is filtering through the large windows when Kurt opens the door to the music room. Sebastian sits at the piano, his fingers drifting lazily over the keys while his other hand turns the pages of a thick volume of sheet music. Single particles of dust are dancing through the air, illuminated by the bright sunshine, and slowly drift towards the ground.
There's a soft click when Kurt closes the door behind him, but it's loud enough for Sebastian to look up from the notes with a surprised look and a light, teasing smile.
"Kurt. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
Both Kurt's mind and heart are still spinning and he doesn't quite know what to answer. But he can feel the wood of the door pressed against his back, solid and steadying.
"So," he says, "We're moving to London."
Sebastian's expression shifts immediately into something carefully neutral. "We are," he says, "A bit late to the season, but you know, the truly fashionable people always arrive late."
"Strange. Mr Moore always calls punctuality a virtue."
The corners of Sebastian's lips twitch, as if he's uncertain whether to smile or not. "Well," he says, "As you know, I have the highest regards for Mr Moore, but I wouldn't necessarily call him fashionable. Would you?"
When Kurt doesn't reply, merely smiles in response but otherwise keeps silent, Sebastian's expression grows careful again, and his fingers begin to restlessly play with the paper in front of him.
"So…" Sebastian hesitates, running his fingers through his hair before peering past his arm at Kurt. "Will you come with us? To London?"
For a moment, Kurt looks at him, at his half-hidden expression, hopeful, yet guarded. And suddenly, some of the heaviness of the last days, weeks, evaporates. Some weight seems to have been lifted off Kurt's shoulders and he can't help it: he laughs. It starts with a chuckle, but soon becomes a loud, carefree laugh rising from his belly through his body while Sebastian stares at him, utterly mesmerized.
"You truly are a moron," Kurt says once he has caught his breath.
"Yes. We established that," Sebastian replies. His smile is still nervous. "That doesn't answer my question though."
"Of course I'll come with you to London," Kurt says, pushing away from the door to walk up to the piano. "After all, I promised Jeff I'd visit his favourite hippopotamus."
While Sebastian's smile was just growing into something more, his expression immediately shifts to almost comically horrified at hearing Kurt's last words, "Oh god, please not you too."
"What?"
"You cannot imagine the craze this thing caused last year," Sebastian huffs. "I tried to see it once: the wait was three hours and there was a large chance of being trampled to death before you even reached the entrance of the zoo." He shakes his head, his hands gesticulating wildly as he continues, "It was madness, and it was everywhere. Every journal had pictures of hippos, Punch especially – everyday another caricature, like the jokes didn't grow old after a week. And then everyone was purchasing silver models of the blasted thing, and I swear, they composed a polka, Kurt, a bloody Hippopotamus polka, and you had to dance to it at every ball, when the polka is such a stupid dance to begin with… what?" he asks, when his gaze falls on Kurt, who is barely containing his laughter.
"You can be such a snob sometimes," Kurt says fondly. Sebastian rolls his eyes, "You say that now, but wait until you are in London. This city certainly has its moments of stupid."
"I'm sure," Kurt says. "I look forward to it." He leans forward and takes the sheets piled on top of the piano. "What is this, by the way? Not the hippo polka?"
"No," Sebastian says, with emphasis, before his tone softens. "I wanted to go through the cupboards to see what of my mother's music survived my father's attempt of cleaning the house of her memory."
He lovingly caresses the worn spine of a large book resting on his thigh and Kurt remembers how Mrs Seymour told him of Sebastian's fight with his father to leave at least the music room untouched after his mother passed away.
"Are many things missing?" he inquires, his voice soft.
"Not that many," Sebastian says and his tone is too light, too unaffected to be believable. "I think a couple of her collections were thrown out and I have to talk to Mrs Seymour – we might have to take some of these books to be bound again. But it's better than I hoped." He grabs the stack of paper resting on the keys in front of him and turns the upper sheet to the light, enough for Kurt to read.
"This was one of mother's favourite pieces," he says. "Do you know it?"
Kurt bends forward and looks at the notes, surprised when he actually recognises the song, "Actually, I do. I practised that with Miss Julia last summer."
Sebastian grins and just like that, the mischievous glint in his eyes is back. "Perfect. Teach me." And without a warning, his hands are on Kurt's waist and he tugs the other man down to sit next to him on the bench. Kurt yelps in protest, "Sebastian!"
"What?"
"We can't. What if someone comes in?"
"Then you can tell them how his stupid lordship forced you to give him piano lessons."
Kurt looks at him seriously, "This isn't wise and you know it."
"I do," Sebastian agrees, still smiling. "But I also know that the chances of somebody looking in here without knocking first are extremely small. And I feel like we're having a moment and I'd like to hold on to it as long as I can."
Kurt opens his mouth to protest, but then he makes the mistake of looking at Sebastian, whose gaze is open and hopeful and full of something Kurt is hesitant to name. He can't remember the last time Sebastian looked at him like that, isn't convinced he's ever seen Sebastian look at anyone like that.
"I will blame this all on you if we get caught," he warns and puts the sheet music up between them. He can practically hear Sebastian's grin in his amused reply, "That's what I offered. So, how do I start?"
Kurt glances to his right to see that Sebastian's fingers are already resting on the right keys, and he sighs in defeat. "Just follow along." He begins slowly, waiting after every line for Sebastian's fingers to press down on the right keys. He has to correct him once or twice in the beginning, but while Sebastian seems a little rusty, he has clearly learned how to do this and do it well, and soon they're playing together. Their fingers move next to one another, Kurt's with practised ease, Sebastian's a bit stiff but determined, only occasionally missing a key or two. Each of them has their own set of keys, their own space, and yet, miraculously, sometimes their fingers brush against one another. The touches are brief and shy, and if asked neither could tell who initiated them. And yet, there's something floating through the room alongside the particles of dust: a glance or two, a smile, the way their thighs almost press together.
It's the loud bang of the door closing that makes them jump apart in a disharmonious and abrupt discord. Kurt's heart is beating fast, but to his great relief it's only Nick standing at the door, scowling at them and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Despite the lovely picture you two make," he scoffs. "Mr Moore has been looking for you Kurt. We need to start packing."
"Oh, yes, of course," Kurt replies, feeling strangely breathless when he stands up and bumps into the piano in his haste to bring some distance between himself and Sebastian. He can feel Sebastian's amused gaze on his back and he's mortified to feel that he's blushing.
"And you," Nick says, looking at Sebastian, "can stop idling around and come up with me and tell me what you want me to pack for London."
"Everything?" Sebastian retorts, his tone petulant. "The things I'll need in London? Honestly, Nick, isn't this what I pay you for?" Nick's eyebrows rise dramatically at that and even though Kurt has an idea of why Sebastian is pouting, he knows that this is not the right tone to pick with Nick.
"I am ever so sorry to have disturbed you, your Lordship," Nick says, "I can see that you have far, far more important things to worry about than us common folk, and I am appalled, nay, shocked that I dared to interrupt your important task of keeping Kurt from doing his job by my trifling inquiry in which of your eighty-three waistcoats you'd like to prance around in London. I assure you, it will never happen again."
Kurt hides his grin by ducking out of the door just as Nick turns around, and he can hear Sebastian's "Nick, Nick… you know this not what I meant… oh, don't be like that, come back here!" as he quickly moves towards the stairs.
"Come Jane, hurry up or we'll be late," Kurt shouts, taking two steps at a time as he races down the staircase. Behind him, Jane laughs in fond exasperation, "Kurt, I'm almost entirely certain London will be there, by the Thames, whether we arrive five minutes late or not."
"London might be," Kurt says, grabbing both his and Jane's suitcase waiting at the bottom of the stairs without slowing down. "But the carriage might not."
He hears Jane's breathless laugh behind him as he races through the corridor and towards the door. A grey sky, barely lit by the morning light filtering through the clouds greets him in the courtyard, as well as Mr Moore's disapproving stare and Nick trying to stifle a yawn.
"Ten more seconds and I would have told Howard and Jonathan to leave without you," Mr Moore reprimands while Kurt hands the two bags to Jonathan, who is perched precariously up on the trunks piled in the carriage. Jonathen tosses the suitcases into a corner and pulls at a few robes to make sure that all of the luggage is secured tightly for the long journey.
"Our apologies, Mr Moore," Jane says, smiling up at the butler. "Is this everything?"
Mr Moore directs one thorough look at the carriage before he nods stiffly. "I believe so. Perhaps we'll have to send the carriage down a second time, but for now I believe this'll do."
He shakes Jane's hand, then Kurt's, then turns to Nick while Jane starts to climb onto the carriage. "Well, Nicholas, I'll leave them to you, then." Nick's gaze darts to the upper windows of the house briefly before he says, "Mr Moore, if you'd rather accompany us I'm sure his Lordship will…"
"Thank you, Nicholas," Mr Moore interrupts him. "But his Lordship was explicit in his wish that I remain here for the summer, and it is not for us to question him."
Nick opens his mouth, whether to protest or agree, Kurt isn't sure, but he is silenced when Mr Moore takes his hand in both of his and shakes it warmly.
"Do not worry, my boy," he says, and Kurt is astonished at the almost fatherly note in his voice. "I know I'll leave everything in your capable hands. And I do look forward to spending the summer far away from the city." Nick blinks a few times before he reaches out to rest his other hand on top of Mr Moore's.
"May I write to you if I need any advice about the new hires?" he asks.
Mr Moore laughs, "Of course. But I'm certain you know what you're doing." He releases Nick's hands and steps back before he checks the time on his pocket watch. "You shouldn't dawdle if you want to make it to London by nightfall." Nick nods and steps to the carriage, easily climbing on to where Kurt and Jane are already seated on the trunks.
"Goodbye Mr Moore," Jane shouts and the three of them wave as Howard clicks his tongue and the carriage starts to slowly pull out of the courtyard.
"So," Nick says and turns to Kurt once they've rounded the stables. "London."
"London," Jane echoes and she beams at Kurt, her handshoed hand squeezing his knee briefly.
"London," Kurt says, surprised to hear that his voice is firm enough not to betray that he is quivering with excitement. From the way Nick and Jane smile at him though, he knows they can tell anyway.
One last glance over his shoulder reveals the silhouette of Bailey Hall, dark against the slowly brightening sky. The clouds over it are still pearly grey and blue, but the horizon has started to glow with a rosy sheen and against this magnificent backdrop, Bailey Hall looks like a secret. Kurt keeps his eyes on his home for a moment longer before he turns around. For the rest of the journey, he keeps his eyes on what lies ahead.
To everyone still reading this:
Thank you. You don't know what you mean to me.