Brass Rags
Page 3
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Don’t mention it.” Algy attempted to shift himself from the now decidedly grubby bathroom floor. “Ah, do you think you could get off me? Thank you.”
“Would you like me to run you that bath, now, my lord?”
“That would be splendid.”
A short while later, Algy lay back in a sea of warm bubbles and warmer contentment. That had gone rather well. What Robert lacked in experience with Algy’s particular predilections, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.
Yes, Algy thought, closing his eyes in bliss. This was all going to work out splendidly. Next time, he thought, he’d introduce Robert to the contents of his old school trunk. Old Hibbert had been such a namby-pamby with the whip. Algy had a feeling Robert would have no such qualms.
* * * *
Robert was thoughtful as he put the kettle on for tea. That’d been an education and no mistake. Who’d have thought a toff like his lordship would get off on being handled like a tuppenny-ha’penny whore? Still, it took all sorts, that’s what his old Ma always said, and she ought to know, seeing as how she’d done her time on the streets before she’d met his step-dad and gone respectable.
Well, Robert was in gravy here, no two ways about it. Archie in the stables had been all right for a tumble, but he didn’t hold a candle to a man like his lordship. Lord Algernon was handsome, clever and kind, and he wanted Robert to better himself, and as Ma said, them’s the ones to hold onto. And he had much better ankles than Archie. No, if Lord Algy wanted to be treated like a Piccadilly renter, Robert was more than happy to oblige. Next time, Robert reckoned, he’d get out his lordship’s riding crop, and show the man something else he’d learned in the stables.
When the kettle began to whistle, Robert whistled right along with it.
THE END
ABOUT J.L. MERROW
J.L. Merrow is that rare beast, an English person who refuses to drink tea. She read Natural Sciences at Cambridge, where she learned many things, chief amongst which was that she never wanted to see the inside of a lab ever again. Her one regret is that she never mastered the ability of punting one-handed whilst holding a glass of champagne.
She writes across genres, with a preference for contemporary gay romance and the paranormal, and is frequently accused of humour. Find her online at jlmerrow.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
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