Monday, July 20, 2009

Mancandy Monday: Lord Bramhope

There is no Lord Bramhope, as I'm sure you know. He lives inside my head, in the file marked "cold and inaccessible yet filled with repressed Other-y passions posh bloke from them days".

Though I imagine he looks a bit like this:

And maybe some of this:

Occasionally he looks like this:

But mostly it's just this:

Probably without the mobile phone I like to imagine he's using there and all the laughing.

Lord Bramhope never laughs. He strides around the halls of some Gothic-y mansion, telling me lies about the strange moaning sounds coming from the attic. I catch him lurking in the darkness, and strike a match that illuminates his groin weakeningly blue eyes. But not in a Wayne taunting Garth with a torch and the movie Leprechaun sort of way.

More of the sort of way where he then takes me roughly on something that sounds like it's from them days, like a credenza or a doily. It's possible that he could also be doing filthy things with the maids, but sometimes I like my historicals to have everyone as repressed and oblivious to sex things as possible, and then WHAM! Sex hits them like a doily to the face.

Plz 2 b writing more of these, authors. I can't write it myself. I keep shoving televisions and can openers and the wrong sorts of shoes in there. They had flushing indoor toilets in them days, right?


  1. I believe electric doilies were standard by the Regency.

  2. *writes important historical detail down in research notepad*

    Thanks, Jeremy!

  3. Ev0l muttonchops Fassbender. All dark and sexy like an After Eight.

    You know I have a hankering for dark lords - especially when they have tight breeches and played by Ralph Fiennes. He knows all about sex doillies.

    I have a dreadful Victorian cad character who murders heiresses in impossible situations for their money. Sort of like Flashman but with one eye.

  4. LOL! "Sex hits them like a doily to the face" !!!

    Oh, I'm glad you're back, Charlotte...

    Fancy going to a wake?

  5. I think I am back. I'm back in fighting form!

    And I wish wish wish I could go to the wake, but I'm on blinking holiday, aren't I. So peeved that I can't come. Oh, the people I would possibly meet! Oh, the amount of pants crapping I would have done!

  6. Damn! I shall have to clench my sphincter in your name then.

    Hope you have a lovely holiday though!