Love Language by Emma Hart
An aristocrat and a gardener walk into a bar, and the barman says—never mind. They walked into a shed, and they’re kissing. Oops.
My name is Lady Gabriella Hastings, and there are three things you need to know about me.
One: my idiot brother will inherit the estate I’ve adored my entire life. Two: my father wants me to marry an idiot who has an estate like this. Three: my aunt’s goats keep escaping and terrorising the public.
Oh, and I have a huge crush on the gardener.
Except I have absolutely no time to sort my own love life, because I’m too busy moonlighting as an online agony aunt to fix everyone else’s problems.
If only I could stop having inappropriate feelings about Miles Kingsley, the grumpy, bearded gardener of Arrowwood Hall.
He hates me, and I’m not quite sure why. My own horticultural dreams are about to slip through my fingers, and he’s the one person who can help me.
If only he wasn’t such a classist bas—ahem.
But when a storm leaves us stranded at the estate with no power, and one of my assignments means I need his help, and a fancy party forces truths to come to light, there might just be a chance for us after all…
*Please note that Love Language is set in England with English characters and is written in British English. *
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EXCERPT:
“You should all be thankful I’m not bringing home more goats.”
That was true. “Victoria and Albert are definitely enough.”
Alex snorted. “Victoria and Albert? You named your goats Victoria and Albert?” “Technically, it’s Queen Victoria and Prince Albert,” I answered.
She blinked at him. “What else would I name them?”
“Billy?” Alex offered with a grin. “Gruff?”
I laughed.
“I do fancy another pair, though. I was thinking about Elizabeth and Philip.”
Alex composed himself. “Skipped a few monarchs there, haven’t you?”
“Well, yes.” She tapped her chin. “But the four kings between our queens are Edwards and Georges. I suppose George is an option, but Edward isn’t. Has rather a negative connotation to it, doesn’t it?”
I kicked Alex under the table.
We were not going to get my aunt started on Edward.
I’d hear nothing but her rants on him and Wallis Simpson for the next week, and I much preferred my sanity.
“Elizabeth and Philip are great names for goats,” I agreed. “Especially since the Queen is the GOAT.”
“Did you just call Her Majesty a goat?” Alex’s shoulders shook with laughter.
“No, I said the GOAT.”
Aunt Cat pressed her hand against her chest in horror. “That’s your relative you’re besmirching!”
Jesus. How did I get here? “The greatest of all time,” I said quickly, before she could spiral any further. “It’s a compliment. GOAT. Greatest of all time. See?”
She frowned. “Why can’t you just say she’s the greatest of all time? You kids these days. You’re so lazy in your English. Never mind horticulture classes, Gabriella, you need some elocution lessons.”
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About Emma:
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages.
She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.
Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.
Yes, really. She's that sarcastic.
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