Table of Contents
Books by Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademark Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
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The Low Road
THE CAPTAIN’S SNOWBOUND CHRISTMAS
CATHERINE CURZON & ELEANOR HARKSTEAD
The Captain’s Snowbound Christmas
ISBN # 978-1-83943-097-8
©Copyright Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead 2020
Cover Art by Louisa Maggio ©Copyright December 2020
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Pride Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2020 by Pride Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Pride Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
A Captivating Captains story
Will Reuben be unwrapping a captain this Christmas?
Reuben’s a makeup artist who’s much in demand in the business, from making the beautiful even more gorgeous to creating an alluring love-scene glow. All of his Christmas wishes come true at once when he’s hired to work on the set of his favourite TV show. And not only that but on the swoony Christopher Manners.
Bunny is lusted after by millions as the brooding hero of television’s Captain Firth adventures. His manly swash and handsome buckle have earned him a legion of fans, and when he strides onto the screen and commands, “Draw your sword, sir,” it’s time to get down to business.
When Reuben and Bunny’s first date turns into a disaster, it looks as though the show’s over before it’s begun, but a blizzard, a mysterious bearded man in a red coat and a hot winter night combine to give them a second chance.
Dedication
Cheers, Santa—nice stocking!
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Renault: Regie Nationale Des Usines Renault Corporation
The Mail: DMG Media
BBC1: BBC
Uber: Uber Technologies, Inc.
Tube: London Underground Limited
AA: The AA
Mr. Sheen: Horseshoe Marketing LLC
The Little Match Girl: Hans Christian Andersen
Aga: Swedish Gas Accumulator, Limited
Chapter One
Reuben couldn’t believe his luck. Makeup on the filming of one of his favourite shows. As he found a spot in the studio car park, he felt as if he’d stormed the barricades and at any moment someone would arrive and try to throw him out. And Reuben would say, “Go and have a word with Amy, she’s hired me for the day.”
Reuben had loved Captain Firth since the first series had been shown on television. What wasn’t to love about the flamboyant show full of men in tight breeches and flowing shirts? And the saturnine and sexy-as-hell captain?
Maybe I’ll get to meet him. Maybe I’ll get to say “Draw your sword, sir!” to the man himself.
As a makeup artist, Reuben had met a huge number of actors and celebrities. It was both a perk and a downside of the job—some of the people he’d met couldn’t have been nicer, and some couldn’t have been more nightmarish if they’d tried. Reuben had never been particularly starstruck, but he feared he might be if he actually met Christopher Manners, the man who played the captain.
Once he’d found a spot for his Renault, Reuben tightened his scarf round his neck and headed off into the studio. He’d probably spend the day applying mascara to a chimney sweep’s face or brushing rouge onto a kitchen maid’s cheeks, but when he saw the wall behind the reception desk covered by a huge Captain Firth poster, his heart leapt with excitement.
Christopher Manners, you smouldering bastard.
“Reuben!” Amy appeared from a closed door before he had a chance to approach the receptionist. “You’re a lifesaver! Carrie’s gone into labour and we’ve got literally one day left before we wrap. Reshoots, you know… I’ll tell you on the way. We’ll go straight down. It’s a closed set.”
Reuben nodded. “Hope Carrie’s okay! Closed set, eh? This should be interesting!”
He was probably going to be stood in a room with the coachman boffing the brigadier’s wife, but it paid a wage, so Reuben didn’t care. Besides, he’d been told before on closed sets that he was a joy to work with during intimate scenes, so he would be in his element.
“I’m going to let you look after Bunny,” Amy said as they strode along a grey corridor. It was funny to think that somewhere in this labyrinth, the Napoleonic Wars were being fought by the swoonsome Captain Firth.
Bunny?
“Okay,” Reuben said, trying to mask his disappointment. Definitely one of the less-well-known cast members, then. No naked, lustful Christopher Manners for him.
“Bunny’s a complete peach.” She pushed open another door, dodging past two fully equipped astronauts as she strode on. “But everything that could go wrong this
morning has. It’s all a tad tense for our Regency spies today!”
“I’ve got my kit, don’t worry!” Reuben assured her. “And I’m an old hand at love scenes, you know that.”
“Brilliant.” Amy grinned. “Because once we get today wrapped, I can start my proper Chrimble!”
They paused outside another door that Reuben knew would take him into makeup. He was no stranger to the setup at the studio, after all. Amy opened the door a little and peered in, then told Reuben, “Come on in, everyone’s mostly decent!”
Reuben strolled in, nonchalant as he swung his toolbox of makeup. Until he clocked who was standing by the mirrors wearing only his breeches.
His very tight breeches.
Oh fucking hell, no way! Christopher Manners!
“Erm…nice to meet you,” Reuben said. Nice being the understatement of the century.
Christopher turned and raised his teacup to Reuben in greeting. “Hello!” he said as a man knelt before him, face to face with the breeches. For a moment Reuben wondered what was going on, then the man began tussling with the buckle of Christopher’s sword belt.
‘Draw your sword sir!’
Reuben was so tempted to say it. The words were burning his tongue. But he didn’t dare. Here he was, in the flesh. Captain Firth. His toned chest was even more impressive in reality. And those shoulders…that flop of dark-blond hair and…and…his blue eyes. Reuben tried to bring himself to his senses and said, “Just looking for Bunny?”
“You’ve found him!” Christopher Manners extended his arm over the armourer’s head towards Reuben. “Sorry, I’m trapped in my sword belt!”
Reuben wasn’t sure where to look. He glanced down at the armourer and all he could see was Christopher’s groin in the pale-coloured breeches. Then, when he glanced up, his gaze latched on to the man’s chest before moving up the column of his kissable neck and finally settling on his eyes. And even that seemed wrong, somehow.
“I’m Reuben. And you’re…you’re Bunny? You’re on the closed set?”
Merry Christmas, Reuben!
“I hope so, or my agent’s not doing her job!”
He seized Reuben’s hand and shook it as Amy said, “Bunny, I’m going to leave you in Reuben’s capable hands today. Linda’s a bit shy and I think she’d prefer a gal, so…you boys’ll be okay together, won’t you? We need Bunny to look nicely battle-worn and beddable, smouldering basically. Dust down on torso and shoulders, all that.”
Reuben blinked. Battle-worn and beddable? But wasn’t that one of the main reasons people watched Captain Firth? Well, one of the main reasons Reuben watched it, at least.
And Reuben would help to bring the magic alive.
“Okay, could you take a seat and I’ll…” Reuben turned to Amy. “So just torso, arms, shoulders, we’re keeping the breeches on?”
She nodded. “They’re due to come off round about lunchtime, but for now just torso.”
“Arse out before lunchtime,” Bunny lamented as the sword belt finally came free. “Thank God for that! Can’t do a love scene strapped into a sword belt.”
Reuben put his toolbox down on the worktop. He caught sight of his own reflection and saw his cheeks were pinker than usual.
I’m going to see Christopher Manners’ bum. I’m going to sponge it and brush it. Dear God, this is a beautiful day.
“Okay, we’ll deal with the bum when we come to it,” Reuben said. He selected some of his creams and powders and laid them out on the work surface. “Could you take a seat, Christo— Do I call you Bunny? Or Christopher?”
“If you’re powdering me from head to toe, we may as well go straight to Bunny,” he replied with a smile. “Skip the formalities?”
Straight to Bunny?
“Dare I ask why you’re called Bunny?” Reuben asked.
“Because I earned my Equity stripes playing the Easter bunny in a rather anarchic pantomime.” Bunny gave him a dazzling smile. “And now I brood manfully on Cornish cliffs for a living.”
Amy patted Reuben on his shoulder as though to say thanks for being a sport, then headed towards the door with the armourer in tow. As she reached the threshold she paused and turned.
“Reuben, I forgot to tell you to bring your baby oil. You’ll need it after lunch!” She shrugged. “I’ve got some in my kit, shout if you need it.”
Baby oil. On Captain Firth’s chest? I’ve been waiting for this moment forever.
Reuben had a quick rummage in his toolbox and held up the bottle. “Never fear, I come prepared!” He gave Bunny a wink. “Post-coital gleams are a speciality of mine.”
“I hope so.” Bunny settled into the chair, returning Reuben’s wink with one of his own. “Captain F’s known for his post-coital gleam!”
Reuben remembered one scene in particular where Captain Firth had lain naked on a bed, only a very small, convenient piece of sheet sparing his blushes. Reuben had always envied the makeup artist who’d worked that scene.
Reuben dabbed some foundation in different shades on the back of his hand, then took a sponge and tried them out on Bunny’s shoulder. Bloody hell, he’s toned. “Just finding your shade… So…I wasn’t expecting to be doing your make up today. Carrie’s having her baby, Amy was saying?”
“Isn’t it great news?” Bunny beamed. “Thanks for coming in at such late notice. You’ve really saved the day.”
“It’s no bother,” Reuben said. “I had a magazine shoot booked in for today with some politician bod, but it got pulled because of some Whitehall drama. I’d much rather be doing this!”
Reuben decided on the shade for Bunny’s chest, poured out the foundation on a palette and got to work with a large sponge. “Tell me if it’s too cold,” Reuben said, aware that Bunny’s nipples had pebbled. Nipples that he’d be stippling with rouge later.
It’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it.
“It’s fine.” Bunny took a sip of tea. He was cold, though, Reuben was sure, just too polite to say. “You haven’t worked on our show before, have you? I’d have remembered.”
Reuben smiled. He was glad that Bunny wasn’t one of those actors, the kind who saw everyone backstage, including any actor who had lower billing than them, as anonymous, entirely forgettable minions.
“No, I haven’t. But I love the show. It’s so exciting to be here. And it’s so exciting doing your makeup.” Reuben took a breath and the words of Captain Firth’s catchphrase rang loudly through his head, as intrusive as an insistent earworm. ‘Draw your sword, sir!’ He bit it off just before it erupted from his mouth. “Yeah, good ol’ Captain Firth…”
Bunny’s face was on a bus that went past Reuben’s shared south London flat every day, the features brooding and chiselled alongside the words, Draw Your Sword This Christmas. And like the rest of the country, Reuben would be glued to the screen at his family’s festive gathering.
But when the next special aired at Easter, it’d be his powder adorning Captain Firth’s masculine shoulders.
“He’s been good to me.” Bunny chuckled, relaxing into the chair. “Good old Firthy.”
Reuben took a darker shade and brushed a bit of shadow and definition onto Bunny’s pectorals and the muscles of his stomach. Not that Bunny needed much, but it was best to add some shadow in case the studio lights knocked out the natural ones and made Bunny’s musculature less impressive than it was in real life.
“It looks like a fun show to work on,” Reuben said. “I mean, I know you must work really hard on it, but I bet a lot of actors envy you swishing about in your fab costumes.”
Bunny sat up straight for him, no doubt well-trained by years of roles that found any excuse to get him out of his shirt. He was a joy to work on in more ways than one.
“We’re a lucky bunch, really,” he agreed. “See the world, dress up and sword fight for a living. What little boy wouldn’t love that?”
Reuben chuckled. “I’m more the little boy who wants to be rescued by a dashing chap and dragged onto his hor
se!”
He knew Bunny wouldn’t mind. Bunny was one of Reuben’s gay idols, an out actor who Reuben had looked up to over the years as he’d watched Bunny’s career.
It helped that he was hot, too, of course.
Bunny put his cup down on the work surface and met Reuben’s gaze in the mirror. His eyes danced with enthusiasm when he said, “Wouldn’t that be something? Captain Firth should sweep a dashing guy onto his horse, I’ve been lobbying for it forever, but…” He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been playing him for ten years. That’s a lot of rolling with feisty maidens in the hay. I don’t think they’re about to let the captain get tangled in the bedsheets with his groom anytime soon.”
Reuben murmured in delight. “Ooh, a roll in the hay with the groom! But you’ve played some fab gay roles. I loved that Edwardian one you were in. All those cricket whites and awkward glances.”
“Did you like it?” That’s an understatement. “That was a bit of a pet project, you know. I produced it. The channel took a lot of convincing—I think they were worried what people would think if Captain Firth snogged a bloke—but it went down well!”
“It was amazing. That scene in the summerhouse…the way they touched each other’s hands and it was all intense and lovely…” Reuben blinked. He was going misty-eyed, and one pair of hands from that very scene was right there in front of him. “It was beautiful.” Reuben rummaged in his toolbox for the right shade of rouge.
“Thank you.” Bunny sounded so warm when he said that, it made Reuben’s heart leap. “People shout that sword line at me all the time, but… I love playing the captain, don’t get me wrong, but that scene in the summerhouse is probably my favourite moment from my whole career. I’m glad it moved you.”
‘Draw your—’
“Yeah. It was really, really…” Reuben sighed as he took out the rouge. “Sorry, I’m here to work, not fanboy all over you. But it really did mean a lot to see that on screen. My family were sat round the telly, someone said, ‘That Christopher Manners’ got a new programme on’ and I knew what it was about, and it was brilliant watching my parents as they realised they were watching a drama about two gay men. And as I was out by then, they couldn’t find an excuse to change channels, even if my dad did keep rustling his paper and clearing his throat to start with. Then he started to watch it properly, and afterwards, my parents kept talking about it. They loved it too. And you didn’t say”—‘Draw your sword, sir!’— “you didn’t say your catchphrase once!”
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