When they meet in front of their respective rooms the next morning, Nick takes one look at Kurt and lets out a deep, long suffering sigh.

"I don't even need to ask, do I?" he says and points accusingly at Kurt's cheeks, where a grin spreads so wide it almost hurts. "Your face tells it all."

Kurt rolls his eyes but finds himself unable to stop smiling. "I'm not in the mood to hear you pass judgement," he retorts. "Not on this beautiful morning."

"As if you're ever in the mood to listen to me," Nick grumbles. His tone his grumpy, but there is a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and Kurt nudges his shoulder affectionately, knowing above all else that Nick is and will remain on his side.

He doesn't know how long he stayed in Sebastian's bedroom last night, the two of them snuggled up against each another in the armchair. They didn't talk much, not when they finally had time and opportunity to communicate what their bodies had wanted to say for such a long time. Kurt felt as if his senses were heightened, focusing on nothing but the man in front of him: the warmth of his thighs under Kurt's legs, the texture of his hair as Kurt ran his fingers through it again and again, the taste of his lips against Kurt's.

They kissed until the sky slowly turned from a distant black to a lighter grey and Kurt, much to his own mortification, yawned into the kiss, which made Sebastian laugh.

"Well Kurt," he said, grinning and bumping his nose against Kurt's. "If I'd known I was boring you…"

Kurt shoved against his chest half-heartedly, but he could stop neither his smile nor the blush spreading over his cheeks. "Oh stop it," he muttered. "You know that's not it, it's just that I haven't gotten any sleep and…"

In an instant, Sebastian's expression changed from teasing to serious. He caught Kurt's hand in his and lifted his fingers to his lips. "Kurt," he murmured against them. "I know. I know you need to get up at the crack of dawn and yet you're still here." He smiled. "With me."

"Don't get used to it," Kurt replied and pressed one last kiss to Sebastian's lips before he slid off his legs. "I can't keep doing this every night or I'll fall asleep pouring you tea."

He crept back to his room noiselessly and crawled into bed without hearing a sound from the other footmen's doors. To fall asleep had been downright impossible, and Kurt was satisfied with just lying there, smiling under his covers while the sky outside brightened until Nick knocked at his door and yelled at him to get up.

Strangely, he doesn't feel tired, not really. He feels the effects of not having slept – his eyes feel dry and itchy, his stomach turns a little unpleasantly and his limbs are heavy – but he doesn't want to sleep, doesn't need to sleep, not when he feels this light and airy.

He's startled out of his thoughts when Nick prods his cheek.

"You should do something about that telling grin on your face before the others see," Nick says when Kurt yelps indignantly and turns to glare at him. "Try to be a little more inconspicuous, please, or everyone will notice something's up with you."

Kurt rubs his cheek. "They'd just think I'm trying to balance out your constant effort to be the most serious person in the room," he grumbles, but he knows deep down that Nick is right. No matter how happy he is, he cannot let any of it show on his face.

He's about to advance down the corridor towards where loud laughter and the smell of freshly baked bread signal a delicious breakfast when Nick's hand lands on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Wait," Nick says, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the corridor. "Just…" He trails off, contemplating what he is about to say, and Kurt feels an uncomfortable sense of anticipation rise within him. He really isn't in the mood for another lecture or warning – not now, not today.

"Are you happy?" Nick asks quietly. His intent gaze is looking at Kurt like his answer is important, and Kurt lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He doesn't have to think about his answer for even a second – he nods, once. "Yes," he says, satisfied when his voice sounds as firm and determined as he feels. "I am."

Nick nods too, slowly. "Good," he says and his expression holds nothing of Nick's occasional haughty superiority. He looks at Kurt like Kurt is something fragile, something he wants to protect from breaking at all costs. "Then I hope with all my heart it's worth everything."


It is.

Kurt feels it in the smile that's on his face every morning when he wakes up, in the songs he whistles while polishing silver plates, in the light bounce in his step when he walks through the corridors of Minerva House.

It is, because it makes him feel alive in a way he never experienced before – not even with last summer's romance. It's a thrilling hum in his body, the rising anticipation of when he'll see Sebastian next, the careful planning of when and how to catch a moment alone with the other man.

But it is also much harder than he had previously anticipated.

Having crossed that last boundary between them also means that Kurt is allowing himself to fully feel the draw of the other man, the pull of his body, the constant urge to be close and even closer. It's a feeling he has to actively supress whenever they meet, because there are always other people around – Will, Mrs Abbot or the countless guests Sebastian entertains. It means that Kurt has to be aware of what he's doing at all times, means that he has to check himself every second they're together because he cannot allow his eyes to wander, cannot allow himself to share secretive glances with Sebastian, cannot let his voice sound anything but professionally disinterested.

And that, he finds, is surprisingly difficult – not because he minds the pretence as such, but because of the effort to keep it up constantly. Because he cannot allow himself to slip up, not even once. He begins to understand what Nick has always warned him of – having years of experience hiding his friendship with Sebastian, Nick nods knowingly when Kurt confides in him how exhausting it is to keep up the façade.

"If it's of any consolation, it does get easier over time," Nick says. "You grow used to it."

That is of consolation – not just because it promises relief in the future, but it also explains why it seems so much easier for Sebastian to pretend, given that he shares the years of practice Nick has had. Otherwise, it might have been hurtful how Sebastian's gaze moves effortlessly past him when he enters the room while Kurt struggles not to seek it out on purpose.

Sebastian isn't on Nick's level of acting though and he does falter. Occasionally, his eyes dart to Kurt's, his gaze dark and promising. His smiles are sometimes a little too broad, a little too direct. And when Kurt is the one to serve Sebastian tea in his study or the library where he often spends his afternoons alone, Sebastian sometimes captures his fingers to quickly kiss Kurt's palm before he lets Kurt take a step back to maintain a professional distance.

They still talk like they did before when they're alone, carefree banter and sharing anecdotes of how they spend their days. Only now they are much more aware of the physical distance between them, and how easily and rewardingly it can be crossed.

The only time when it is relatively safe for them to meet, to be privately alone together is a night – but night-time consists of precious and contested hours. More often than not Sebastian attends dinner parties or balls, which often last until the early hours of the morning. Kurt tries to wait for him, but so many nights when he wills himself to keep his eyes open he falls asleep despite his best efforts, exhausted from spending sixteen hours on his feet. And those nights when Sebastian stays home do not make it easier either – most of the household is up until ten or eleven, sometimes longer, cleaning or preparing food or fires for the next day. There is also Andy, who is still recovering from being ill two doors away from Kurt's, and Kurt doesn't fully trust that his sleep is a deep one. It therefore takes hours until Kurt can be reasonably sure that everyone's asleep and that it is safe enough for him to tiptoe down the corridor, to where the flickering light of candles coming from under Sebastian's door beckons him closer.

In the following week he manages to sneak away only once, and his heart is pounding in his ears as he creeps through the dark, silent house. There are explanations for visits to Sebastian's bedroom, of course, even at this hour – in theory, Kurt and the others are available to Sebastian's whims and wishes even in the dark of the night. But regular, lengthy nightly visits, especially if Kurt keeps them secret and doesn't complain about them the next morning, would surely raise suspicion, even if he can always count on Nick to back up his excuses. It is risky, a risk Kurt feels especially in those hours he spends in Sebastian's bedroom, listening to any suspicious sounds outside the door.

"Sebastian," Kurt murmurs against the fabric of Sebastian's shirt. "Do you think it's wise to keep doing this?"

He lifts his head from where it's resting on Sebastian's chest. They're lying on Sebastian's bed, their legs tangled while the candles on the table slowly burn down. Sebastian has pulled him down here as soon as Kurt closed the door behind him, his kisses frantic at first and for a moment, Kurt had wondered where exactly this night would lead. He had looked up at Sebastian, once, and whatever Sebastian saw in his eyes was enough to make him slow down, draw out their kisses until they become slow and soft.

Sebastian is frowning down at him, his fingers slowly combing through Kurt's hair. "Keep doing what?" he asks. His speech is just the tiniest bit slurred and Kurt is sure the wine at Lady Adelaide's ball, from which Sebastian returned, flowed freely and in abundance.

"Meeting like this," Kurt replies. Briefly, he can see something like panic flicker in Sebastian's eyes. Before the other man has the chance to respond Kurt lifts his head higher, captures Sebastian's jaw with his fingertips and gently pulls him closer to press a sweet kiss against his lips. "Do not misunderstand me," he says and lets his head fall back against the white linen. "I want to keep visiting you."

"Good," Sebastian says, a little too quickly, maybe. "Because so far, it's the best part of my day. The best part of the week, actually." He grins while Kurt props himself up on his elbows and nods solemnly.

"Well, I should imagine so," he retorts, his eyebrows raised in a silent challenge, and Sebastian grins at him like he really is the best thing he's seen all week.

"Nevertheless…" Kurt adds, and for a moment, he thinks about the dilemma of the whole situation – because Kurt wants this. He's not about to tell Sebastian this, but he can't remember to have ever wanted anything as much. And while the risk is certainly there, it is bearable.

For him.

"You once told me that the stakes are much higher for you than for me," he says. Sebastian hesitates briefly, then nods, and Kurt continues, "So I'm asking: do you think it's wise?"

Sebastian stares at him for a long moment. "I don't think I'm known for making wise decisions, Kurt," he finally says, his voice quiet.

"That is true," Kurt admits and reaches out to stroke over Sebastian's eyebrows with his index finger – first left, than right. "But I have it on good authority that you're improving in that regard."

Sebastian chuckles, but his gaze is serious and he stares at the ceiling in contemplation for a long moment until he replies, "I thought about it Kurt. I thought about all of this before I came back to Bailey Hall. When you ask me whether it is wise – no, I don't think it is. The wise thing would be to never have pursued this in the first place. The wise thing would be to go out, search for a sensible girl to marry, settle down, have a bunch of children, provide the heir my grandmother is dreaming of."

He slides back a bit, enough to be able to sit up and rest his back against the mahogany headboard. Kurt sits up too, determined to not having to look up at Sebastian while they're having this conversation.

Sebastian is right. The wise thing, a cynical voice in his head whispers, would have been to listen to Nick.

"But," Sebastian continues, "I don't think we need to be too worried. We need to be careful, sure, and maybe you shouldn't sneak down here ever so often, but…" he hesitates briefly, careful to avoid Kurt's gaze. "I've… I've done this before. I mean, I had… you know… with others. And they were…"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "I know I'm not the first man in your bed, Sebastian. Get to the point."

"Right," Sebastian says and lets out a shaky chuckle. "What I meant was, some of them were far less careful about the whole thing than we are, and we still never got caught." He shrugs, "I roamed the whole city with Daniel. Reginald was never particularly subtle, and Ned was, well, still is notorious for his, well, dubious gatherings. And even should something happen: there are always ways to deflect scandal."

Sebastian reaches out and his fingers gently trace the lines of Kurt's face, smoothing over his cheekbones. "I trust you," Sebastian says. "And… I trust myself, in this regard at least. As long as this is something we both want…" He waits for Kurt to interrupt him; as if he fears Kurt could want to contradict him. Kurt merely smiles and captures Sebastian's hand in his. He pulls it flat against his chest so that Sebastian can feel Kurt's heartbeat, steady and firm, under his fingertips. When he looks up, Sebastian's expression is unreadable, his eyes glittering with emotion.

"… and as long as we're both careful," he continues, his voice breathier than before, "I don't think there's much we need to be afraid of."

Kurt nods.

"Good," he says and slowly leans forward. "Because you know what? This is the best part of my day too."

He can feel the smile on Sebastian's lips when the other man pulls him closer.


The following days of May bring with them a pleasant surprise.

It's still early in the morning when a carriage draws up on the driveway and Kurt opens the door to reveal Sir Robert, thinner than before but secure in his steps when he enters Minerva House.

"Kurt," he says and smiles benevolently, like he always does, "It is good to see you again, my boy."

His hand pats Kurt's shoulder somewhat awkwardly and Kurt finds himself smiling brightly when he replies, "It's good to see you too, Sir." He hopes the other man can hear just how much he means it.

Sir Robert looks much better than last winter. His skin has a light tan, though he still looks pale under it, and his eyes look a little too bright, a little too glassy. But his gait is secure and his handshake firm and Kurt doesn't dread the answer when he asks, "How are you, Sir?"

"Much better, thank you Kurt," Sir Robert replies as they walk into the hallway. "I've been travelling a lot over the last weeks and the Italian climate has improved my condition immensely. Even the doctors are carefully optimistic." He smiles. "I won't stay in London for long, just a few weeks – the air here isn't good for my lungs. But I didn't want to miss the grand spectacle our majesties have put up."

"Aha," a voice drawls down from the staircase, "For their majesties you return, but when I write that I miss you, all I get is a report of the weather in Rome?"

Sebastian is hurrying down the staircase. He jumps down the last two steps and quickly closes the distance between him and Sir Robert, throwing his arm around the other man and drawing him into a rough embrace. Kurt hears Sir Robert chuckle and has to smile at the utter happiness on Sebastian's face – a happiness that quickly fades when Sir Robert steps back, holds him at arm's length, looks sternly into his eyes and says, "Your grandmother has been writing to me."

Sebastian groans, his eyes wide in horror. "Good God have mercy, why?"

"Apparently, she isn't quite satisfied with how you spend your time here," Sir Robert replies. "If I remember it correctly, she wrote something along the lines of 'I wish he meddled less in politics, and danced more with eligible young ladies'?"

Sir Robert's smile is decidedly proud when he looks at Sebastian, who blushes and waves his hands. "I didn't meddle in politics. I supported one or two acts, that is all, and I've done an awful lot of dancing." He claps Sir Robert on the back as they make their way up the stairs. "Speaking of which, have you received an invitation to…"

Kurt turns to search for Andy and Will to help him unload Sir Robert's luggage. As he casts one last look at Sebastian, now talking animatedly about another ball and the reports on housing in the city his Royal Majesty ordered last week, Kurt cannot help but feel a little proud himself of how different Sebastian is from the man Kurt met one and a half years ago.

They've come so far and both changed so much.

And, Kurt likes to think, both for the better.


Sir Robert staying with them is an utter delight, and not just because his presence brightens the mood of Nick, Kurt and Sebastian alike. All of them are glad to see his health improved, but Kurt finds he is still careful around Sir Robert, helping him dress with extra gentleness and asking – perhaps a little too often – if he needs anything. He is, though, by no means as bad as Sebastian, who watches Sir Robert like a hawk and nearly loses all of his composure whenever he so much as sneezes. Sir Robert endures it all with a fond smile.

As the newest addition to the household, Sir Robert's presence also changes the routine that Sebastian established previously through his habits and daily rhythms. Sir Robert, for one thing, goes to sleep early and also rises much earlier than Sebastian. He also has his own circle of friends and acquaintances which, in some places, overlaps with Sebastian's, but doesn't in others, and Minerva House sees a series of new guests who all come to visit Sir Robert. A frequent visitor is Lord Cavendish, an elderly gentleman who has trouble hearing, which is why Kurt can easily eavesdrop on his and Sir Robert's yelled conversations, even when he's out in the hallway. Their discussions mainly concern the Crystal Palace (which was designed by Cavendish's head gardener, apparently), the Exhibition and the endeavours of the Royal Horticultural Society, of which both are members. Kurt himself has never found plants or gardening particularly interesting, but these two exhaust the topic for hours, with Sir Robert drawing up plans on how to improve his estate, asking for the advice and help of Lord Cavendish. Kurt is surprised when Sebastian begins to occasionally join these meetings for half an hour or so. He doesn't say much, merely listens attentively until his patience is exhausted and he asks for the carriage to drive him into town.

Another pair of frequent visitors are Lord and Lady Lovelace, a middle-aged couple who seem good friends with Sir Robert. Sebastian makes himself scarce during these visits and Kurt suspects that it might have to do with the Countess' razor-sharp intellect and tongue. Kurt nearly falls off the kitchen bench in surprise when Jane tells him that Lady Lovelace is the daughter of Lord Byron, and when she visits again he stares at her until Nick deliberately steps on his foot to make him stop.

All in all, Minerva House becomes surprisingly busy, something which Kurt, still used to the quiet weeks Sebastian and Sir Robert spent at Bailey Hall, didn't anticipate.

One afternoon Kurt stumbles into the kitchen, his arms full of packages he collected from the dressmaker, and he almost falls over where Toby is feeding scraps to a cat because he can't see anything over the parcels.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here, Kurt," Mrs Abbot sighs and helps him pile the packages up on the kitchen table. "His lordship is with a guest and has asked for tea and none of the other footmen have returned yet." She brushes over Kurt's uniform and then heaves a large tray into Kurt's arms, weighted down so much by a large teapot and an enormous plate of sandwiches that Kurt has trouble balancing it all the way to the library. He's relieved to see the door ajar, and he's so fixed on delivering the tray without tripping that he doesn't pay much attention to Sebastian and his guest, seated comfortably in the brightly lit room, until the tray is safely deposited on the table between them.

"… really, if it wasn't so much work, I'd throw a ball myself."

"I can't believe you let up the opportunity to be the talk of London – again," Sebastian says, his voice dry. "I'd thought if anyone would be dreaming of making a spectacle out of their estate, it would be you, Ned."

Kurt lifts his head immediately to stare at the man sitting opposite of Sebastian. Lord Drummond-Willoughby is clad in a deep burgundy waistcoat, cream shirt and trousers, his auburn frock coat, inlaid with red and brown plaid, and matching top hat cast carelessly aside on one of the armchairs. He's obscenely handsome, with one leg thrown over the other, leaning on one armrest, his body turned towards Sebastian.

"Ah, my dear Bastian," Lord Drummond-Willoughby says with an amused expression and rests his chin in his palm. "While you are absolutely correct in your assessment of my enormous vanity, you have not calculated my laziness, which, I can assure you, is also quite remarkable." He smiles and adds, "Though as you know, those aren't the only remarkable or enormous things about me."

Sebastian huffs out a sound that is half amused, half exasperated. Kurt hasn't realised he's been staring at Lord Drummond-Willoughby until the other man turns his gaze on him, his smile broadening just fraction when Kurt hastily drops his gaze and reaches for the tea.

"Don't tell me you've gotten rid of Nick, Bas," Lord Drummond-Willoughby says, mockingly disappointed. "I've grown so fond of his permanent scowl."

"A fondness I'm sure is only surpassed by his high regard for you," Sebastian retorts dryly. Lord Drummond-Willoughby throws his head back and laughs, and Kurt is momentarily distracted and infuriated by the way his dark curls effortlessly fall over his long neck. Kurt averts his eyes immediately and pours the tea without any mishap. When he straightens to hand the delicate porcelain saucer over to Sebastian's guest, he's startled to find that he still has Lord Drummond-Willoughby's full attention.

"What's your name, young man?", he asks and takes his tea, stirring the liquid slowly.

"It's Kurt, your Lordship," Kurt murmurs.

Lord Drummond-Willoughby's tone remains interested, though Kurt doesn't understand why. "Ah. Is your family of German descent then?"

"Not as far as I know, your Lordship."

"Hmm…" Lord Drummond-Willoughby hums. "It is an interesting name in any case."

He is still looking at Kurt, his eyes gliding over Kurt's body at a leisurely pace, and his gaze is not derogatory like those of the Crawshaws' or Lord Huntington's always were, on the contrary. There's open admiration in this eyes as he looks at Kurt's legs, his waist, even as he unabashedly stares into his face. It's… honestly, it's a little flattering, and all of Kurt's former jealousy directed towards the other man evaporates when he sees the way Sebastian's eyes narrow when he notices Lord Drummond-Willoughby's scrutiny.

"Thank you, Kurt," he says when Kurt hands him his tea. "Is… I believe Mrs Abbot mentioned something about fresh strawberries and scones. Would you be so kind and get them from the kitchen?"

Kurt inwardly chuckles at this blatant attempt to get him out of the room. It's oddly endearing, this protective side of Sebastian, especially since it's uncalled for – Kurt doesn't think Lord Drummond-Willoughby is someone he can't handle.

Almost involuntarily he looks back, and when he does, Lord Drummond-Willoughby grins and winks, and at seeing that, Kurt really has to bite back a grin, because Lord Drummond-Willoughby looks a lot like Sebastian when he does that, and the thought that this is where Sebastian might have picked up at least some of his mannerisms in regards to flirting is oddly endearing. It also dissipates much of the previous allure of Lord Drummond-Willoughby, making him less intriguing and much more human, and, honestly, a little bit ridiculous.

"Well Kurt, if you're ever looking for a new employment," Lord Drummond-Willoughby says, "You just need to ask. I promise that working for me is much less taxing than working for Sebastian."

Kurt exchanges a short glance with Sebastian, who manages to look both infuriated and amused at the same time, then raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge and lets his gaze drift pointedly over Lord Drummond-Willoughby's features. "Begging your pardon, but somehow, I very much doubt that, your Lordship," Kurt replies.

Lord Drummond-Willoughby throws his head back and laughs. "Oh, I like this one, Bas," he says and grins at Kurt. "Keep him around, will you?"

"I have every intention of doing that," Sebastian says, and Kurt is relieved to see that he is still glaring at Lord Drummond-Willoughby, since his anger masks the possessive note Kurt thinks he can detect. He clears his throat pointedly, "Shall I collect the scones now, your Lordship?"

"Yes please, thank you Kurt," Sebastian says, still glowering at Lord Drummond-Willoughby.

When Kurt closes the library door behind him, he leans against it for a moment, listening to Sebastian's voice drifting through the wood and saying what sounds very much like "…appreciate it for you to leave my servants alone…" before he turns towards the servants' stairs, a huge grin on his face.


"What can you tell me about Lord Drummond-Willoughby?" Kurt asks as he tries to keep pace with Nick's quick footsteps. It's still relatively early but the air in the streets hangs warm and oppressive. There hasn't been any wind lately to dispel the clouds of smoke and stench over London, and Kurt thinks with dread of those June and July days almost upon them when it will be warmer still.

"Ugh," Nick replies, a sound which successfully conveys a mixture of disgust and annoyance. "Why? Has he managed to ruin another lady?"

"No," Kurt replies. "At least, I don't believe he has? He visited Sebastian yesterday, and I think…" He pauses for a moment, which makes Nick turn his head to look at him over his shoulder.

"You think?"

"I think he may have flirted with me," Kurt completes his sentence. Nick scoffs, "I wouldn't be surprised. He flirts with everyone who has the misfortune of being stuck in a room with him."

Kurt lips curl in silent amusement. "I get the faint impression that you don't like him."

"I don't," Nick admits. "I find him to be careless, vain and superficial."

He doesn't elaborate on this assessment and Kurt is silent for a moment while they turn around another corner, mulling this over.

"Is he really so bad?" he asks finally. "Sebastian seems to like him, and I…" He trails off, unsure as to how to end that sentence. He found Lord Drummond-Willoughby to be cheeky and teasing, sure, but he sensed no ill intent behind his words.

"I'm presumably not being fair," Nick admits. "He isn't bad, per se. He likes attention, and he doesn't care if scandal follows him. And while I don't like him, I cannot deny that I will always be thankful for him being by Sebastian's side when I couldn't be." His tone is bitter, and Kurt knows he remembers the time after the death of Sebastian's family when he was stuck at Bailey Hall, out of his mind with worry while Sebastian tried to ruin himself in London and Paris.

"And Lord Drummond-Willoughby was there for him?" Kurt asks.

"At least that is what Sebastian and Sir Robert told me," Nick replies. He isn't slowed down by the two boxes he carries, while Kurt struggles with the single parcel in his hands. "While Lord Drummond-Willoughby still doesn't seem to mind the questionable companionship of Reginald and Arthur, back then he at least recognised Sebastian's self-destructive behaviour for what it was. He's surprisingly perceptive for someone so self-centred, I have to admit. He let Sebastian stay with him when he had too much to drink, shielded him from others when Sebastian let his tongue run away with him."

"But you said Lord Drummond-Willoughby enjoys scandal," Kurt objects.

"Oh, trust me, he does," Nick snorts. "But to be fair, he only creates drama around himself – and willing participants. And seeing as Sebastian was neither, he did his best to protect him until Sir Robert talked some sense back into him."

"And those young ladies you said he ruins…?" Kurt asks. Nick sighs. "He has gained quite a reputation for, well, entertaining married ladies, among other things. I disapprove of it. But I know that none of these ladies entered a relationship with him ignorant of the potential consequences. One or two of them may have used his company to create scandal quite deliberately – maybe even with the consent of their husbands, who knows."

A few months ago, Kurt might have been shocked to hear something like that. But London has educated him more in a few weeks than life in the countryside has over the last years. He reads the papers and listens to the gossip enough to be aware of how most people who hide behind their "reputation" do not have that firm a grasp on their own morals, so he isn't surprised.

"So, while you personally don't like him, you wouldn't say he's a bad person?" he summarises. Nick shrugs, "I guess so, yes." He suddenly turns to Kurt, and, as if only now registering his earlier words, asks, "You said Lord Drummond-Willoughby flirted with you?"

"I believe he did."

"How did Sebastian like that?"

Kurt thinks back to when he had returned to the library to collect the tea tray after he had shown Lord Drummond-Willoughby out. He remembers how Sebastian had shut the door unceremoniously behind Kurt and turned the key before he pulled Kurt to his chest, claiming his lips in a possessive kiss, his hands firm on Kurt's lower back as Kurt willingly drew closer, eager to make the most of these stolen minutes.

"You know, given his reaction, I hope it happens more often," Kurt says emphatically. Nick sighs and shakes his head, but there's a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Was Sir Robert with them?" he asks after another moment. "He is usually a calming presence in a room with these two."

"No," Kurt answers. "He was visiting Countess Lovelace, I think." He moves closer to Nick as the street they turn into becomes more and more crowded. "He looks better, don't you think? Sir Robert I mean, not Lord Drummond-Willoughby."

"Much better than last winter," Nick replies. "But still not healthy."

Kurt nods and opens his mouth to ask whether Sebastian has shared something about Sir Robert's condition with Nick – because Sir Robert surely hasn't, not with any of them – when someone walks right into Kurt. Kurt gasps when the shoulder of the other man slams into his chest painfully. For a moment it knocks the air out of Kurt's lungs and the parcel falls from his hands and lands on the ground with a loud crack.

Nick's strong hand is on Kurt's shoulder immediately, but before either of them has fully turned around a deep voice says, "Bloody hell, watch where you're going, you stupid, daft – Nick?"

In front of them is a man Kurt has never seen before. He is tall, taller than both of them, his clothes well-worn and a little shabby. Dark-blond curls and deep, brown eyes peak out from under his cap, and in a dizzy moment Kurt thinks that this stranger is really handsome before he registers the other man's rude words and straightens with anger, ready to deliver an appropriate reply. Only then does he notice that Nick has grown rigid next to him, his hand clasping Kurt's shoulder in a way that is almost painful. He turns and sees that Nick's face is a stone mask of barely supressed loathing, an expression he has never seen on the other man before.

"Daniel," Nick presses out between gritted teeth and Kurt turns his head so quickly that his muscles strain in protest.

Daniel is looking at Nick with unveiled interest, like a vulture eying a fresh piece of meat. He's twirling a pipe in his fingers, and Kurt sees that his fingers are stained with tobacco.

"It's been some time, Nick," Daniel says. His tone is conversational enough, but there is something to his words, a barely noticeable tone that sends chills down Kurt's spine. "How have you been? Are you still with Sebastian? Is he back in town? I heard he crawled back to the country after –"

"You seem to be under the impression that I'm interested in conversing with you," Nick cuts him off. His tone is scathing. "I can assure you that is not the case." He turns on his heels, murmurs, "Come, Kurt." and all but drags Kurt with him further down the street, his footsteps quick and determined.

Daniel's laughter rises behind them. "Still the same arrogant ass, I see. Be careful Nick – one day someone is gonna push you from your high horse, and if I'm any lucky I'll be there to applaud them."

Nick doesn't turn around. He hurries Kurt down the street with quick steps, rushing so that Kurt doesn't even have time to pick up his parcel. They turn right, then left, then right again, and Kurt wonders if Nick is trying to reach a particular destination or if all he wants is to get away as far as possible. They cross another, busier street, lucky to catch a gap in the traffic, and Nick finally pulls Kurt into a deserted alley from which a foul stench emerges.

He looks back out into the street while Kurt tries to catch his breath.

"I don't believe he followed us," Nick says eventually.

"Why do you think he would?" Kurt asks. The thought alarms him and he is not reassured in any way when Nick turns back to him, his expression rattled and so unlike his usual composure.

"Please Kurt," he says, his voice quiet but urgent. "Please, promise me you won't tell Sebastian about this."

"Why?" Kurt repeats. Nick doesn't answer; he just takes another step forward and grabs Kurt's arms.

"Please Kurt," he says. "Promise."

Kurt hesitates, but only for a moment. He understands where Nick's concern is coming from – he has seen what the memory of Daniel can do to Sebastian, the destructive effect it had on their relationship, at so many moments. If the memory alone had this impact…

He nods. "I won't," he says, "I promise I won't tell him. It's probably nothing to worry about, right? I mean, he's in London, but the city is big and we most likely won't see him again, right?"

When Nick doesn't answer, a feeling of dread settles in Kurt's stomach, and he repeats, more urgently this time, "Nick? Do we have to worry about Daniel?"

Nick hesitates before he answers, "I hope not Kurt, I really do. But the truth is, I don't know." His gaze keeps darting back to the entry of the alley, as if he's afraid of Daniel coming after them..

"I hope that running into him was just a coincidence," Nick says. "I wasn't sure before, and I'm not sure now, but…"

"Wait," Kurt interrupts, "I'm not following. Sure about what?"

Nick draws in a shaky breath. "I thought I saw him, before. Remember our first visit at the Cyder Cellars? I thought I spotted him there, in the crowd. And after that, I thought I kept seeing him, but every time it turned out to be someone else, and I thought, I hoped, that it was just my imagination running away with me, but…"

"Wait, you mean he's been following us? Since then?" Kurt asks, his voice rising in alarm.

Nick hushes him, "No. No, no I don't think he has." He bites his bottom lip in contemplation. "No. I was so careful, I would have noticed if he had. It really might have been just a coincidence."

"And if it wasn't?" Kurt asks, already dreading the answer.

"If it wasn't," Nick replies, his gaze dark, "We will find out soon enough."