From Upstairs to Downstairs

From Upstairs to Downstairs

by J.P. Bowie

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When everything is taken from you, including the memory of who you are, what possible chance is there for happiness?

Edward Lazenby has it all—a rich grandfather, a beautiful home, days spent riding his favorite horse in Hyde Park. What he doesn’t have, and feels he never will, is handsome Thomas Marsden, a man who, at first, seems repulsed by Edward’s forwardness when they meet.

Dalliances with members of the same sex in Victorian England can lead to scandal or even imprisonment, so Edward and a few close friends have formed their own Club where they can meet without fear of persecution. When Edward’s grandfather dies, Edward is heir to his estate but before he can lay claim to it, he is brutally assaulted, his injuries resulting in complete memory loss.

Months later, Thomas Marsden finds him working as a stable boy on a country estate. Thomas takes him back to London, hoping to find a way to have Edward’s memory restored to him, and remind him that just before he disappeared, they had declared their affection for each other.

Can the two men build a life together or will Edward’s disability be too much of a hurdle to happiness?

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781786516107
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group Ltd
Publication date: 10/24/2017
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 182
Sales rank: 1,116,359
File size: 1 MB

About the Author

J.P Bowie was born in Scotland and toured British theatres in numerous musical shows including Stephen Sondheim's Company.

Emigrated to the States and worked in Las Vegas, Nevada for the magicians Siegfried and Roy as their Head of Wardrobe at the Mirage Hotel. Currently living in Henderson, Nevada.

Read an Excerpt

Copyright © J.P. Bowie 2017. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Pride Publishing.

Edward Lazenby didn’t lie abed late most mornings, but on this particular day he was awakened by a blinding headache, a consequence of downing too many brandies the night before—or rather the night that had progressed into the wee small hours of the morning.

“Late night, sir?” The usually soft voice of George, his valet, sounded like a foghorn to his pulsing brain.

“Damnably late, George. What time is it?”

“Gone nine, sir. Shall I bring you some tea before you go down for breakfast?”

“Please, and perhaps one of Mrs. Chalmers’ miracle powders. I have the very devil of a headache.” The idea of breakfast was not high on his list of things he might have enjoyed at the moment.

“Straight away, sir.” George gave him a sympathetic smile and left the room closing the door behind him.

“Lord…” Edward pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his bleary eyes. He looked around his bedroom, noticing that the clothes he had left strewn everywhere before falling into bed had been taken away. George must have been in tidying the room before waking him. He really was worth the wages Edward’s grandfather paid him…whatever they were.

Sighing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, swaying as his head swam and the pounding between his ears increased. He staggered into the washroom to relieve himself and splash some water on his face. The mirror showed him a sorry sight. His usually well-brushed chestnut brown hair stuck up at all angles and there were dark shadows under his blue eyes. Even at the young age of two and twenty, too much liquor over too many days was beginning to leave its mark on his pale, smooth skin.

Perhaps I should forgo tonight’s soirée at Lady Haversham’s townhouse.

But Thomas would be there, and Edward hadn’t quite given up on trying to seduce the older man. He longed to at least steal a kiss from that luscious mouth. No matter that Thomas had never shown the slightest interest in joining lips with Edward. And when Edward was honest with himself, he imagined Thomas would in fact be appalled at the idea of kissing another of the same sex. He was, after all, engaged to Miss Margaret Flowers, and had never been seen at any of the ‘gentlemen only’ gatherings Edward and his friends, Albert Harcourt and Freddie Munceford, attended with increasing frequency.

True, there were many other handsome young men Edward could dally with, and had done so, but Thomas he viewed as something of a prize. Tall, with dark, almost black curly hair and a serene expression on his remarkably beautiful face. Edward had never seen him frown, or raise his voice in anger, and even on the occasion when Edward had been less than subtle in his approach, he had not uttered a sharp word of rebuke. Albert thought him boring, but Edward was sure that behind the implacable exterior hid a passionate heart and an insatiable appetite for the pressing of the flesh. Never mind that he, Edward, would most likely not be the one to press that flesh or explore Thomas’ sexual mores…unless some kind of miracle occurred.

Nevertheless, he could not deny that the Club had lost some of its appeal since he’d met Thomas, and despite Albert and Freddie’s cajoling, he’d not attended their soirées for some time. Last night had been a mistake. Foolish of him to sit in a corner and drink alone, longing for a love that could only be unrequited, but there it was.

As he re-entered the bedroom, George appeared carrying a tray that held the welcome cup of tea, and a glass containing a milky fluid. Mrs. Chalmers’ miracle powder tasted vile, and Edward screwed up his face as he downed it then gulped down his tea to dispel the odorous aftertaste.

“How is my grandfather this morning?” he asked George.

“Not very well, sir. I have sent for Doctor Shaftsbury to attend him. He has a bad cough, I’m afraid, in addition to the pain he’s been feeling in his back.”

“Hmm, I’d better visit him before breakfast then.”

“I’m sure he would appreciate that, sir.” George inclined his head politely. “Are you ready to dress, sir?”

“Yes, I’ll bathe later, thank you, George.”

Edward’s grandfather, Sir Rupert Lazenby, had instilled in his grandson the need to be polite to all, regardless of their station, and Edward had noticed that people deferred to him much more readily when he showed that he appreciated them or their work. Some of his friends were not as well-mannered as Edward and he’d seen several black looks thrown their way on occasions when they were together. Edward wasn’t thin-skinned but he knew he would hate it if those less than amicable stares were ever cast at him.

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