May – June 1851
Kurt stays true to his promise not to tell Sebastian about their encounter with Daniel. It's not easy, because these days he feels like he wants to tell Sebastian everything in the short moments they share.
But he doesn't.
And if he's honest with himself, it's only partly because Nick has asked him to keep this a secret.
The major reason is that Kurt doesn't know how Sebastian will react to hearing the news of them meeting Daniel. But he does remember how Sebastian reacted before, back when Daniel was but a faint memory and Kurt was a possibility, nothing more yet. It's been bad, bad enough. And Kurt just can't risk it, not now, not when their relationship is so new and fragile, not when it feels like they've finally begun to build something between them. He doesn't trust that they are strong enough yet to survive this shadow of the past being cast over them.
So Kurt pushes it out of his mind and he only feels guilty when he finds that it doesn't weigh heavy on his conscience. But that doesn't completely dispel the unpleasant feeling in his stomach when he sees how Nick turns around more often now when they're out on the town, how the other man scans the crowds around them.
"Don't you think you're being paranoid?" he asks. Neither of them has seen Daniel again in the days that passed since their encounter, and Kurt is certain he could successfully convince himself that there is nothing to worry about, were it not for Nick and his silent and relentless scrutiny.
"Maybe," Nick admits. "But I'd rather be paranoid now than sorry afterwards."
And well, Kurt can't argue with that.
Parliament passes The Masters and Servants Act at the end of May, with an overwhelming majority voting in its favour, ensuring the protection of those in service and demanding from their employers to provide food, appropriate clothing and lodgings for their servants. Jane draws Kurt into a short celebratory dance in the kitchen when she reads the headline until Mrs Davies shouts at them to polka somewhere else where "no hard-working people are trying to cook his Lordship's breakfast".
"A notable accomplishment for our government," Sir Robert comments after Kurt has shared the early morning news with him while helping him into his waistcoat. "Though, I fear, still too little to protect those who need protection most."
While Sir Robert isn't in the habit of discussing his exact political views with Kurt, Kurt has of course overheard one or two things during dinner conversations. Given what he gathered there, supported by the fact that in the past two weeks, Sir Robert has accompanied Sebastian to more than one dinner at Lord Manners' estate, and knowing what he does of the other man's personality, Kurt is confident to count him on what he privately calls the right side of the argument.
"I agree, Sir," Kurt replies, "But you know, Rome wasn't built in one day either."
"That is quite true," Sir Robert says, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile. "That is also a lot of wisdom for this early in the morning, Kurt."
"Not really," Kurt laughs. "It's just what my mother always used to say to me when I was younger and thought something was happening too slowly. Like me learning the alphabet or how to play the piano." He smiles fondly at the memory and Sir Robert returns the smile.
"Has your family always worked in service?" he asks.
"Not always," Kurt replies. "I believe my mother's family was actually quite wealthy once, but they lost most of their money before my mother met my father."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Sir Robert says, stepping closer when Kurt holds out his jacket for him. "Do you know your mother's maiden name?"
"Earnshaw," Kurt replies. "But I don't know much about her family. I don't even know if there are any living relatives. My parents never spoke of any."
Sir Robert pauses, one arm already in his jacket, to look at Kurt over his shoulder. "Earnshaw?" he asks slowly. "Of the Norfolk Earnshaws?"
"She was from Norfolk, yes," Kurt replies, suddenly gripped by excitement when he sees Sir Robert's contemplative expression. "Why, Sir? Do you know anyone with the family name?"
Sir Robert stares into the distance for one second longer, then lifts his other arm and shrugs on his jacket. "I'm afraid not Kurt. I briefly thought I remembered a family with the name, but I fear I must be mixing them up with the Fanshaws." He looks at Kurt and, seeing his expression, adds softly, "I'm sorry for reminding you of the loss of your family."
Kurt smiles hastily and assures him that it's fine because really, it surprisingly is. He still thinks about his parents every day, but the hurt that comes from missing them has slowly faded from an acute pain to a constant throbbing, and when he thinks of them, he remembers their love for him first and his loss of them second.
And while he has accepted that it will never be the same thing as having his parents by his side, he spends every day grateful to have Nick in his life, and Jane, and everyone else at Bailey Hall – and now, of course, Sebastian.
Because this family is more than he could have ever hoped to find.
The clattering of carriage wheels outside early in the morning is not an unusual occurrence per se, not even on this morning in early June, when the heat is already simmering in the streets. It has been creeping into Minerva House over the past days and has awakened all of its inhabitants well before dawn, and even Sebastian has dragged himself down for an early breakfast with bleary eyes.
When the sound of carriage wheels draws closer, neither Sir Robert nor Sebastian look up from the letters they're reading while they nibble on pieces of bread without real appetite.
"Are you expecting someone?" Sir Robert inquires when the clattering grows louder and finally stops.
"Not that I'm aware," Sebastian replies and furrows his brow in silent contemplation. Andy and Will hurry outside to open the door and greet the visitors because Kurt is currently struggling with the honey he managed to pour all over the tray and his fingers. He curses inwardly when Nick hands him a napkin. The heat makes all of them slow and sluggish, and the air in their rooms below the attic is so thick it could be cut with a knife, making sleep nigh impossible for all of them.
Therefore, Kurt flinches when he hears the voice of the visitor – a familiar, commanding voice with just the tiniest shrill vibrating through the house when she demands to know: "Where is my grandson?"
All colour drains from Sebastian's face as he lifts his head and stares at Sir Robert.
"No," he whispers tonelessly.
"Well, I'm afraid the answer is 'yes', my friend," Sir Robert replies, his face a mixture of sympathy and barely concealed amusement.
Sebastian's gaze darts wildly across the room and comes to rest on Nick's unimpressed face.
"Hide me," he whispers. Nick just shrugs. "I warned you. You shouldn't have declined the invitation of the Miltons a second time. I bet Lady Milton told on you."
Sebastian's gaze narrows, and his hurt expression clearly labels Nick as a traitor. Kurt suddenly feels bad, or at least partly responsible – because he knows that the reason why Sebastian didn't attend the ball at the Miltons' house on Sunday was that Sir Robert dined with the Lovelaces, Andy and Will were visiting their mother, and he and Kurt could finally enjoy a few quiet hours together for the first time in weeks.
Sebastian's gaze darts to Kurt, but before he can say anything Will throws open the door and announces, with a voice that sounds perhaps a little intimidated, "The Dowager Countess, Lady Smythe."
Sebastian's grandmother sweeps into the room, clad – as usual – in black and grey, a frown on her seemingly permanently displeased features.
"I really must say, Sebastian," she begins while Sebastian scrambles to his feet. "I received the most baffling letter from Lady Adelaide yesterday, claiming that you did not grace the Milton's ball with your presence. Is that assessment accurate?"
Nick's raised eyebrows are easily translated into a silent "I told you so", but Kurt feels genuinely bad for Sebastian, who stutters, completely taken off-guard, "No, I mean, yes… grandmother, why are you here?"
"What a ridiculous question," Lady Smythe snorts. She peels off her gloves and black hat and hands them to Will, who almost drops them in his haste to accommodate her. "I have naturally come to make sure this season will not turn out to be the same faux-pas your last time in the city was, because apparently, I cannot trust you to manage anything on your own. I had to travel all this way – and in this heat." She opens a black, silk fan, and glares accusingly at Sebastian while she resolutely waves it in the air, is if to imply that Sebastian is also to blame for the weather. She then turns to approach Sir Robert, who has risen from his seat and greets her with a polite bow.
"It is good to see you returned in better health, my dear Sir Robert," she says. "How was Venice?"
"Magical as always, your Ladyship," Sir Robert replies smoothly.
Nick and Kurt exchange a glance and when Lady Smythe takes a seat at the table, they hurry to set up a plate and provide tea and other refreshments before she has the chance to criticise them as well. Thankfully, Lady Smythe doesn't spare them a glance – she is much too busy talking a mile a minute, inquiring about some acquaintances of hers and immediately answering the questions herself, while Sebastian sits next to her, looking miserable while she sorts through his letters and calling-cards.
"Lord Drummond-Willoughby? Oh I hope you don't converse with him, he really is not what I would consider suitable company, and oh, Lady Josephine – Sir Robert, I remember you were quite taken with her, weren't you? Such a sweet girl, just the right age to marry, and her brother a sensible man too, and – Oh!"
The loud exclamation makes all men in the room flinch simultaneously. Lady Smythe holds up an envelope and peers at the writing through a tiny pair of reading glasses. Her face looks like she just discovered the largest jewel in a pile of rubbish.
"What is this, Sebastian? A royal invitation? To Buckingham Palace?"
Sebastian lunges forward and tries to snatch the paper out of her hands. The tips of his ears have turned red. "It's nothing, grandmother."
"Nonsense," Lady Smythe says, tears open the envelope and adjusts her glasses to read: "… his Royal Highness is delighted by your interest in the project. Therefore, he humbly requests your company at dinner on 7th June." She lowers the letter and stares at Sebastian like she has never truly seen him before. "Sebastian. Have you been corresponding with the Prince Consort?"
Sebastian squirms under her intense gaze. "Uh, just briefly? Lord Manners introduced us at Lord Hampley's ball two weeks ago. They were talking about some of the reports they've had and what to do about them. It's just a small housing project that I expressed interest in, and his Royal Highness was very eager to invite me and Lord Manners to tea, and…" He trails off, his gaze unsure when it comes to rest on Lady Smythe's unreadable expression.
His grandmother draws herself up to her full height – which is just as tall as Sebastian – and says, "My boy. I see now that I have been mistaken."
Sebastian's mouth drops open at words he has presumably never heard out of her ladyship's mouth. "You… what?"
"I have come here, convinced that you idled away your days, doing the Lord knows what, but…" She raises her hand to her bosom. "… to learn that you have made the acquaintance of His Royal Highness, and received an invitation to the palace. I believe I have never been prouder."
Sebastian stares at her like he has absolutely no clue what is happening. "Wait, so you… you approve?"
"Oh, not of this ridiculous housing nonsense, of course not," Lady Smythe retorts and waves her hand dismissively. "But of you forming a closer connection with the palace? Absolutely."
She looks at the invitation again, her face contemplative, while Sir Robert waves Kurt over for another cup of tea, his face attentive and full of sympathy when he looks at Sebastian. Finally, Lady Smythe straightens again, puts the invitation aside and reaches for the honey.
"We will host a ball," she says. Her tone is one of decision, not of suggestion.
"What? No. Why?" Sebastian protests.
"Well, given what my friends told me, this season has been missing a spectacle beside that hideous thing they erected at Hyde Park. And now that you have formed new ties with the palace, perhaps her majesty will deign to attend. Oh, the look on Countess Spencer's face…"
Sebastian looks at Kurt, his face a mask of horror and helplessness. And Kurt wishes he could help with this, he truly does – but he can't, so all he can do is lift his shoulders and grimace in silent sympathy.
While summer breezes through London, Green Park fills with people strolling below the green canopy of the trees, hiding their faces from the harsh sunlight either under the brims of top hats or the dainty lace of umbrellas. These days, Kurt seems to exist solely between worrying about Nick, who's still silently worrying about Daniel, and shouldering Sebastian's – and frankly, his own – exasperation with the fact that with Lady Smythe in the house, they can no longer catch a moment in peace.
Sir Robert has quietly moved into the bedroom at the far end of the corridor, leaving plenty of space between his and Sebastian's chambers (and also keeping to a very regular sleeping schedule, so Kurt can easily estimate when it's safe to tiptoe past his door at night).
The Dowager Countess moves into the biggest bedroom right across the hallway, which is well within hearing distance of Sebastian's room. She also brings two of her ladies maids with her, and Kurt swears he runs into one of them every time he enters the corridor to Sebastian's bedroom during the day – which heavily discourages him from trying during the night. The two women, who Kurt already knows from Lady Smythe's last visit to Bailey Hall, for the most part ignore the staff at Minerva House and keep to themselves and her ladyship, to whom they seem utterly devoted. But Kurt can still feel their gaze on him when he walks past them with a polite smile and a nod. Maybe Nick's paranoia is finally rubbing off on him, but he no longer dares to sneak down at night – and the moments he can catch with Sebastian alone during the day are also, regrettably, sparse.
Part of the reason for this is the tight schedule of visits, dinners and balls that Lady Smythe keeps to. She insists on Sebastian accompanying her to most of them, a duty Sebastian can only avoid by making other appointments with people his grandmother deems important enough. Thus, Lord Drummond-Willoughby's calling cards remain unanswered while Sebastian's visits to Lord Manners increase in frequency.
The hours Lady Smythe spends at Minerva House she uses for planning the grand ball she insists on hosting in the middle of July. "That way, it will surely be remembered as the highlight of the season," she says and writes lists of people to invite and bullies Sebastian to spread the word among his friends and acquaintances.
Some of these days, Kurt feels restless and dissatisfied. His mood isn't helped by the fact that the warm weather is taking its toll on everyone's nerves. The house maids are cranky, the footmen tired, and Mrs Davies observes an increasing lack of appetite at the breakfast table.
But Kurt knows that for him, these are only the symptoms, not the cause. He hates that he is barely able to exchange so much as a glance with Sebastian, hates that the house feels crowded even though there's technically only two guests staying with them, hates the exhaustion that comes from keeping up an indifferently smiling façade at all times.
"It'll be easier once we're back at Bailey Hall," Sebastian says, in one of those rare, quiet moments in solitude they can arrange in the library late in the evening, after both Sir Robert and Lady Smythe have retired to bed. "A greater distance between my rooms and the servant's quarters. Less visitors. And hopefully, no balls or grandmothers throughout autumn or winter. But until then…"
Kurt sighs from where he has buried his face in Sebastian's neck, his finger combing slowly through the other man's hair. Sebastian has ordered Andy and Will to rearrange some of the furniture in the library, claiming that the light is softer in the corner farthest away from the door. Kurt had to grin when he saw the result, because soft light or not – this way, the armchairs are now hidden from view behind the largest bookshelf, which makes it relatively safe for him and Sebastian to share an occasional moment of physical proximity there.
"How long are you planning to stay in London?" he asks and lifts his head to look at Sebastian.
Sebastian returns his gaze thoughtfully. "Well, there's no way to leave until this ball nonsense is behind us. And grandmother will most likely need two weeks to recover from it and to visit all of her closest friends to gloat, so I'm hoping early August."
Kurt nods. It's strange – months ago, he would have given his left arm to finally walk the streets of London. And as much as he loves the city – and he does, more than he anticipated he would – part of him is already longing for the quiet of Bailey Hall, for the solitude of the countryside – for uninterrupted time to explore this thing between them.
Sebastian looks at him with a twinkle in his eyes, and slowly, a grin spreads over his face. "You know…" he drawls, and Kurt raises his eyebrows in silent question. "You claim to be irritated with my grandmother being here, and fair – she is a dragon and I guess we both can't wait for her to leave. But admit it – you look absolutely look forward to this ball thing."
Almost out of reflex, Kurt opens his mouth to protest, but then he pauses and finally shrugs. Because Sebastian is right – the more exhausted Mrs Abbot, Nick and Jane become, burdened with lists of instructions and tasks to fulfil next to their already substantial amount of work, the more sympathetic Kurt feels for their plight. But he also cannot completely erase the rising sense of excitement when he remembers that in just a couple of weeks, the house will be decorated and filled with finely dressed people, music and dancing.
"You have to admit that what she plans does sound like the event of the season," Kurt replies. "Can you blame me for wanting to be part of that?"
"On the contrary," Sebastian replies, and while his grin is still cheeky, there's a faint blush dusting his cheekbones that tells Kurt that Sebastian isn't entirely comfortable with what he is about to say. "If this whole blasted thing brings you some joy, I'll take comfort in the knowledge that at least it's good for something."
He tries to sound blasé, but the way he avoids Kurt's gaze is terribly endearing, and Kurt chuckles as he bends forward to kiss the smile off of Sebastian's lips.
Ball or not – he really, really wishes they could finally have the nights back for themselves.