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He shook his head. “That is far too prosaic. I prefer my interpretation.”

“Okay,” Isla said, and then when she realized what she’d done, she began to laugh. “In my current state, I can’t win this battle of words.”

“That is just as well,” Lord Bancroft said, humor dancing in his eyes. “It will enable us to concentrate on the ride instead.”

They rode through the gate side by side. Lord Bancroft kept Blaze at a steady walk and—just as he’d told Isla she would—Belle kept pace. Ezra closed the gate behind them, and Isla adjusted her position in the saddle to take advantage of the view.

Sheep, some standing alone and others in small clusters, dotted the field. Their bleating filled the air, and although a few stopped their grazing to stare curiously as the two riders cut through the pasture, most continued with their meal undeterred. Above their heads, a few puffy clouds hung suspended in the blue sky, and after all the rain of the last few days, it was good to feel the warmth of the late autumn sun.

“The leaves are starting to change colors,” she said, her attention on a small grove up ahead. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are,” Lord Bancroft agreed. “I always enjoy coming to Copfield Hall, but I confess, the countryside around here puts on its very best show at this time of year.”

“What about the area where your family home is located?” she asked.

“Bancroft House is in the Peak District,” he said. “It has its own beauty, but the countryside is more wild and rugged than Surrey’s. Rather like the weather.”

“York’s temperatures are often chillier than London’s too,” Isla said.

He looked at her curiously. “Do you miss the north?”

“Sometimes. I miss my family—although they’ve never felt quite so inaccessible as they do now.”

“So I imagine.”

They rode on. Grateful that Lord Bancroft didn’t feel the need to fill the time with pointless chatter, Isla allowed the gentle sounds of nature to calm her overarching anxiety. The steady hoof falls pounding the ground, the bleating of the sheep and occasional song of a bird, the creak of leather, and the bark of a distant dog. It struck her then. There was no rumble of an engine—no vehicle on a road, no piece of farm machinery in a field, and no airplane in the sky.

“The quiet is lovely,” she said.

“I agree.” They had reached a small stand of trees, and he reined Blaze to a halt. Belle immediately paused beside the larger horse. Isla watched as Lord Bancroft dismounted and walked around his horse to stand opposite her. “Come,” he said, reaching up. “There is something I would like to show you.”

Releasing her hold on the reins, Isla swiveled slightly and leaned forward to set her hands on Lord Bancroft’s shoulders. He reached for her waist. His shoulder muscles tightened beneath her fingers, and then she was airborne. Moments later, her feet were on the ground. She staggered sideways.

“Careful,” he warned, not relinquishing his hold on her. “It may take a moment to adjust to being upright.”

“It’s like my legs have forgotten how to work,” she said.

He met her alarmed expression and chuckled. “It will not take long for them to remember.” Sliding her hands off his shoulders, she gripped his biceps and took a wobbly step. His hold on her waist remained firm. “Take your time.”

She averted her eyes from his. Taking her time was all well and good, but if she didn’t put some space between her and Lord Bancroft soon, her heart would fail her before her legs. She took a second shaky step back. “I think I’m okay.” She shook her head in frustration. “I mean, I think I can manage now.”

Slowly, he lifted his hands. She took another step. This one was more stable.

He smiled and offered her his arm. “Well done. The ground is a little uneven here, but I think you will find the short walk worth the effort.”

When faced with the choice of maintaining some distance or falling flat on her face in front of the gentleman, Isla chose to save herself from the possibility of further humiliation. She set her hand on his arm and attempted to ignore the way her heart instantly responded.

He led her around the trees. On the other side, the ground fell away in a gentle slope, opening into a stunning vista. The rolling hills were crisscrossed by stone walls and hedgerows. Isolated cottages and farmhouses punctuated the fields and wooded areas. Cattle, horses, and sheep grazed in the green meadows, while other fields burst with golden sheaves of grain. In the hollow immediately below them, a cluster of buildings was strung along a winding dirt road, and on one end, a tall spire marked a church.

“Oh!” Isla was momentarily speechless. “It’s beautiful.”

“I think the same every time I view it.” He gestured toward a nearby fallen tree. “If you are not afraid of a little dirt clinging to your clothing, you can sit and take it all in.”

Isla lifted her hand from his arm and crossed the short distance to the log. Grateful that her legs seemed to have recovered, she sat on one end of the fallen tree and gazed out at the view. Her seat shifted slightly, and she looked over to see Lord Bancroft claim a spot a little farther down the log.

“Tell me what I’m looking at,” she said.

“Surrey,” he said. “In all its glory.” But then he pointed to the spire below them. “That’s St. Augustine’s Church and the village of Little Twinning. Beyond the wooded area to your right, you can just make out the chimneys of Greenbriar Manor, home of Lord and Lady Whitely, the Maidstones’ nearest neighbors of note.”