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Benj had never heard of such a thing, but he could not say that he had spent all that much time in London. He’d always preferred the country to Town, and had never been of a status to find it worth his effort anyway. No wonder the country looked so strange and interesting to her.

Interesting, and not disgusting.

That was significant.

“Do you ride in London?” Benj asked her, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Some,” Martha admitted, her tone brighter than before. “But not all that much. My mother made sure I was an accomplished rider, but one can hardly become truly skilled trotting around Hyde Park for show, can they?”

He’d never thought of that; he and his siblings had practically been raised on horses, so the idea of never riding freely with the wind in one’s hair seemed as foreign to him as London’s finery.

“I suppose not.” He tapped the back of one hand into the palm of the other, trying to follow up on something connected to the topic that would not be patronizing or ridiculous.

He was not having much luck.

“I’ve been riding every day since I’ve come to Wiltshire,” she said without prodding, her hold on the horse’s reins loose, but the animal docile enough to trod after her without fuss. “It’s exhilarating. I don’t know how I’ll ever go back to the sedate pace a lady keeps in London.”

“I’ve seen you ride,” Benj admitted, wondering if that was something that should even be uttered. “You’re quite good.”

Martha gave him a wry look. “And you’re an expert on the subject, are you?”

Benj laughed at the direct question, and its tone. “Not at all. I’ll admit to being a fine enough rider myself, perhaps reckless at times. No one would give me excessive praise. But I’ve seen enough to know a bad rider, and you are certainly not that.”

Her smile lit something within the walls of his chest. “What a relief.” She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening before squeezing shut. “Oh dear. Please tell me I have not stepped in animal excrement once more.”

It took a moment for her statement to register in his mind, and when it did, he glanced down, horror welling within him.

Relief fell hard on horror’s heels, and he took a moment to collect himself, as laughter nearly took over.

“Not this time, Miss Smith,” he informed her with all the sageness the moment called for. “What you have stepped in is good, honest Wiltshire earth. A trifle softer than our usual fare, but there has been a great deal of rain lately.”

Only one of Martha’s magnificent eyes opened. “Earth. You’re certain?”

Benj looked down at the ground again. “Hmm,” he mused, frowning despite his complete certainty. He crouched as though to inspect the situation more closely, and she obliged the study by raising her skirts just enough to reveal the entirety of her boot. It sat only a trifle submerged in slurry, and could easily be retrieved, but the exact shade of the material might never return to its full luster. She did have an almost delicate-looking foot, despite its covering in boot and slurry, but the length of it seemed standard enough, if he recalled the size of his sisters’ feet accurately.

He had never made an exact study of women’s feet, but there did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary here.

“Mr. Steele?”

Her voice brought him out of the strangely fascinating faux study of feet, and he peered up at her, grinning unabashedly. “Wiltshire earth after all, Miss Smith. Not to worry.”

She exhaled heavily in a rush of air, laughing to herself. “What a relief. I couldn’t possibly be so unfortunate as to step in animal mess twice in the space of two days.”

Benj waited for any sort of reaction regarding her situation, or the previous day’s situation, anything to indicate that her station in life dictated her behavior or thoughts.

Nothing spoiled or fussy in the least.

“Remarkable,” he said to himself as he rose, brushing his hands off, though they had not touched anything.

“What is remarkable?” Martha asked, her brow creasing ever so slightly, which did nothing to lessen the brilliance of her eyes.

He allowed his mouth to curve into the natural smile that was gently pulling at its corners. “I’ll confess, I saw you yesterday in Allington. I might not have noticed apart from when you stepped in the horse excrement. I expected disgust, at the very least. Laughter and nonchalance were not anticipated. And today, though it is earth and not something worse, more of the same. It is quite remarkable, Miss Smith.”

“Is it?” Her brow cleared and she tilted her head again in that same adorable manner from before. “I have never been squeamish. Only ignorant. I am hoping that it can be cured.”

Whatever other plans he’d had for the day, he would have given them up just for more time in her company. She was refreshing, amusing, fascinating, beautiful, and constantly full of surprises, and all of this in just a few minutes.

Had any person in the world had such a profound effect on him so suddenly?

“I think it could be cured, Miss Smith,” Benj told her, entirely unaware of the details of his smile, only that one remained. “And I think you are well on your way.”