Noah Tenbey’s body and soul were torn asunder during a cavalry charge at the battle of Waterloo. A year later he’s still suffering. Fearful, his family calls in Dr. James Byrd from London, who not only helps Noah with his injuries, he also brings Noah’s heart back to life. But what life can James, the bastard son of an Earl, and Noah have together when all of society doesn’t see them as they truly are? Will they find a way to keep their love blooming, or will it wither on the vine?
Be Warned: m/m sex
Get it at Evernight Publishing
EXCERPT
Setting the last seed pot in the wheelbarrow with a flourish, James marched back to the greenhouse. He yanked open the door, pushing the pots inside with determination.
“There you are.”
Startled, James dropped the handles of the wheelbarrow. It thudded on the stone floor, the pots clattering together. He blinked at Noah, who was sitting on the hard bricks that formed a platform in the center of the greenhouse, cane in hand. Most of his hair had escaped its queue, and his eyes were pinched like he was in pain. Probably from sitting on the damned bricks.
Forget the greenhouse being a hell of a lot of work, somehow James was supposed to train a nobleman. It’d be easier to get a horse to talk than convince a rich man to do what was asked of him.
James made a show of hefting the wheelbarrow back up and pushing it to the low tables at the back of the greenhouse. He lifted out the pots and set them in neat rows.
After a few moments, the tap on a cane on the flagstones and the tread of booted feet sounded. That couldn’t be comfortable with how stiff the man must be.
“Excuse me, I was speaking to you.” The words were clipped. The good gentleman was upset. How delightful.
James shifted on his stool to face Noah, which might have been a mistake because Noah, despite his lips being pulled into their perpetual scowl, was very fetching when viewed close up. There was a slight scar, hardly visible, that faintly marred his lush lower lip—an old hurt James wouldn’t mind kissing better. If such a thing wouldn’t earn him a home in the gutters of London.
He cleared his throat. “It was more of a pronouncement, actually. And I knew where I was, so I continued about my business. Far be it for me to intrude on your admiration of leafless trees.”
Noah’s delectable mouth fell open. “You, sir, are impertinent.”
“So I’ve been told many times.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hannah Morse is an author of contemporary and historical romance novels. She lives in New Mexico with her high school sweetheart and too many Chihuahuas. She can be found binging Netflix shows or reading steamy novels when she isn't hard at work writing a happily ever after.
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