GENRE: Gay Historical Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 17,389 words
RATING:

In early Restoration London, Cuthbert Watson, a comely twenty-year-old page is in service to Sir Lewis Montgomery at the Palace of Whitehall. Cuthbert freely enjoys the dissolute pleasures of the newly established court of King Charles II and the great city of London.

During the winter of 1661, as the royal court empties for Christmas, Cuthbert dreads being left virtually alone. So when his friends Owen and John invite him to Monmouthshire for the festive season, Cuthbert jumps at the opportunity to accompany Sir Lewis and his new bride, Lady Antonia, for the long journey west.

On the first stage of their journey, Cuthbert falls foul of Mr. Lemuel Freeman, Lady Antonia’s stern twin brother, who condemns Cuthbert’s frivolous ways.

But does Lemuel’s disapproval hide an irresistible attraction? While these two very different men are thrown together over Christmas, might their mutual desire lead to a lasting romance?

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

The weather hadn’t improved when they reached Hammersmith. Cuthbert had the dubious honour of standing in a muddy puddle while directing reverse operations with Sir Lewis’ baggage.

At least I don’t have to carry the lot by myself, he thought shouldering his bag while following the servants up the long garden to the back of the house.

Having been shown upstairs with any necessities, he unpacked what Sir Lewis required in the closet adjoining the marital bedroom.

This is a comfortable sort of house, Cuthbert concluded. The furnishings weren’t new but were highly polished and cared for, indicating the owners had little regard for fashion or other people’s opinions.

Sir Lewis was presumably downstairs, making himself pleasant to his new wife and her family, no doubt provided with warming refreshment.

Cuthbert presumed he was not immediately required. He took advantage of this respite by taking the opportunity to change into a dry set of livery, thankful that his travel bag was oiled and relatively waterproof.

In the privacy of the closet, he stripped briskly. To his dismay, he found that the rain had permeated his shirt to his chilled and goose-pimpled skin. The idea of pulling his dry shirt over his wet body was unappealing. Then he recollected the pile of towels in the bedroom near the wash bowl. Surely one won’t be missed. I can sneak it down to the kitchen to dry with the rest of my clothes.

Lulled into a sense of security by the prevailing silence of the upper floor, he scuttled into the bedroom on his mission. In the act of picking up a towel, the door opened before he had a chance to shield his nakedness.

“Sister, are you there?”

At this query, delivered in a north-country twang, a tall, blond gentleman appeared in the doorway. He halted immediately, presumably taken aback by finding a naked man in his sister’s bed chamber who was not her husband.

Cuthbert’s carnal instruction at court meant that he was unembarrassed by his state of undress. He was not particularly tall or muscular, but his slender compactness proved popular. He had been assured on numerous occasions that he shouldn’t be ashamed of what he had been endowed by God’s good grace.

In this instance, it crossed his mind to ponder if it was the correct form to make his bow while not wearing a stitch of clothing.

“Good day to you, sir,” he said chirpily. “I am Cuthbert, page to Sir Lewis. I got a soaking on our way here. I was changing into dry clothes before I reported to my master.”

Not that it’s any of your concern.

The gentleman didn’t appear reassured by Cuthbert’s explanation but stared at him with chilly disapproval.

Cuthbert was a few inches shorter, but he lifted his chin and met that gaze unflinchingly. He acknowledged that the gentleman, still youthful in his mid-twenties, was handsome in a rigid sort of way, with straight blond hair and cool grey eyes.

Well set up, too. Cuthbert admired those broad shoulders under his sober coat.

“I’ll leave you to cover yourself,” the man said coldly. “The sooner you’re attired in keeping with a respectable household, the better.”

He gave a self-satisfied nod and departed. Cuthbert was open-mouthed with indignation.

That stiff-rumped scold! It’s hardly my fault he strolled in when I happened to be bare-arsed.

As he briskly towelled himself, it occurred to Cuthbert that he might have just been introduced to the owner of the house. He grinned. An inauspicious meeting.

Cuthbert pulled his shirt over his head. Oh well, can’t be helped, he thought.

Just before the man’s mask came down, Cuthbert speculated if he had imagined a touch of colour in those high cheekbones or a glint of interest outweighing the surprise in those pale blue eyes.