“Nobody knows what they’re doing, Amie, that’s why they call it ‘falling’ in love. Now if we could just get someone to steal our Nory’s heart, we’d have a full house.”

At that moment, the crowd along the path parted, and Lord Abercrombie strode into view with Isaac beside him. Nory’s heart sped up. Isaac stopped at the edge of the crowd while the marquis carried on to the center of the green to stand by the tree.

A hush fell over the gathering, and the marquis began to speak. It was an uplifting speech; he managed to acknowledge just about every element of Hartmead, from the farmers to the oral surgeons. Nory thought it no wonder the community remained so close, and so protective of Robinwood Castle, when the marquis kept the ties between them so strong. He might have made a good politician if he hadn’t committed himself to keeping the family estate going.

Her ears may have been listening to Lord Abercrombie’s rousing words, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off Isaac. He in his turn seemed unable to break his gaze from hers.

The marquis’s words became indistinct, as though he were underwater, and her vision seemed to tunnel so that the crowd was a blurry backdrop to Isaac’s brilliance. Caught in his tractor-beam stare, Nory got the distinct sense that she would never be done looking at him, that she would never tire of this view. She’d found people attractive before, of course, but she’d never wanted to throw herself in and drown in them. This was new. And it wasn’t just his aesthetics—though they were greatly appealing. She looked at Isaac and she saw hands that dug the earth but also held a paintbrush, eyes that studied the delicate science of plants in the ground and searched the stars far above them. She wanted to know what made him tick, to taste his thoughts, she wanted to consume him and be consumed by him. The urge to run to him at that moment was so great, she actually found herself grinding her boots into the ground to keep her in place.