Page 74

His confusion cleared as she rose. “Ah.”

“Hmm, yes,” she said with a humorless laugh. “Ah, indeed. Why did you not tell me you were an earl?”

His mouth curved in the crooked smile she’d seen before, the one that had made her toes scrunch then and did so again now. “I don’t hear much recrimination in your voice. Is that good manners or a genuine question?”

“Both, I should hope.” Martha exhaled and folded her arms, tucking her shawl tightly. “You had an opportunity to introduce yourself properly and you did not. I do not seek to judge, only to understand. Surely, you can see how uncomfortable the revelation was to me.”

“I would never wish you to feel grief or mortification, let alone from something I have done,” he said quickly, taking a step forward. “Please, forgive me.”

Martha nodded without much effort, a breeze dislodging a bit of her hair beneath her hat. “I know it was not your intention, my lord. But still I ask why.”

Lord Hillier continued to stare at her for an uncomfortably long moment, his smile turning almost sad. “I’ve spent my entire life being Benjamin Steele and nothing more. I’ve found myself turned into Lord Hillier, and I barely know what that means. Look at my land, Miss Smith. What do you see?”

She did look, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she saw. Countryside, for certain. Fields, none of which seemed to grow anything. And in the distance, there appeared to be some sort of a house, large enough to be the estate’s manor, but derelict in nature.

“Nothing, Miss Smith,” Lord Hillier answered for her. “Nothing. And since Lord Hillier is Earl of Nothing and No One for the present, I much prefer to continue being Benj Steele until the two men are reconciled into one.”

Martha looked at Lord Hillier again, something shifting within her chest and releasing a warmth that she had felt in his presence when they’d last met. Something comfortable and easy, something natural, and almost affectionate. “I think that is rather rational and sound, my lord. It must be difficult to be brought into a status with little to show for it.”

“Feels rather impossible, actually,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “Who would believe that an earl would plow his own fields and till his own earth? Or go out with his shepherds twice a week to oversee the investment that is his flock? Or chop an old armoire into pieces for firewood?”

“Did you really?” Martha asked before he could go on, laughing in surprise. “Why?”

Lord Hillier gestured dejectedly in the distance. “Do you see the house, Miss Smith? Pontcaster is a relic, and not a covetable one. The exterior is the least offensive of its parts. I shall have to scrap nearly everything within it before I can do much in improving it, and I’ve barely been through the place enough to know where to start.”

“You chose to focus on the farming first?” Martha started walking in the direction of the house, keeping her pace slow.

“I did,” he confirmed, falling into step beside her as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Given the time of the year, I thought I might try and give the estate some sort of revenue as soon as possible. No tenants, you see, and it’s a poor prospect to convince new ones to come in. I must give them something to want. I did not come from money before I inherited, but what I had saved up I used to procure the sheep, some pigs, and the equipment. There is some put by for other purposes, and if I do any of this well enough, more will come.” He paused, then chuckled easily. “I beg your pardon, here I am discussing money and income, of all things. You must think me dreadfully crass.”

Martha smiled to herself. “Must I?”

She could almost feel the ripple of air as he jerked to look at her. “You don’t?”

“How could I?” She looked up at him, allowing her smile to deepen. “We were speaking of your estate, your manner of caring for it, and that includes a financial responsibility. You are relying on abilities rather than assets, and given the state of those assets, how could that not be an admirable thing? Do you know how many people would have thrown up their hands already at such a prospect? Who else would roll up their sleeves and change the fortunes of their estate with their bare hands? No earls that I know, that I can say for certain.”

“When you put it like that, I almost feel this is a noble thing and not a hopeless one.” Lord Hillier grinned, instantly ridding Martha of the capacity of her left lung. “You have a luminous way of looking at things, Miss Smith.”

Martha’s cheeks colored slightly. “I don’t believe I do. I think what I have is an ability to see things as they really are, and a hope that something can be improved upon. It does not always serve me well.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “It is why I find myself in Wiltshire. My mother has sent me here to learn the error of my ways.”

He laughed once. “And what was your great error?”

She could not laugh in return, but somehow she managed a weak smile. “I refused marriages of convenience. I cannot consign myself to the fate that seems so paramount in London and Society. I do not want to make a match that improves my status, but not my nature. I realize that young ladies like myself are raised to become some man’s property in a game of connection and strategy and money, but I do not want to do so. If this is all I am to be, I find my life to be so vapid and pointless.” She exhaled roughly, her arms unfolding as though fatigued by the whole idea. “I just seek a purpose that values the fact that I live and breathe as myself, and not for the purposes of someone else.”

There was a long stretch of silence, though not a moment of it made her uncomfortable amid the softness of the natural Wiltshire music. “And you led me to believe that you were ignorant,” Lord Hillier said.

Martha blinked, returning her gaze to the handsome man beside her. “Pardon?”

His smile eased something within her chest, made her want to draw closer. “The other day, you told me you were only ignorant. I find nothing of the sort in you, Miss Smith. On the contrary, I believe you may be more enlightened and astute than any person I’ve met in my life, and without a doubt, the most refreshing.”

“You make it sound as though I am akin to taking the cure in Bath.” Martha laughed, the sound seeming somehow breathless to her ears.

“I’m not altogether sure you won’t be a cure here,” he said simply, as easily as one might comment on the weather. And his smile never wavered.

It was as though her heart had sprouted wings and fluttered around each of her ribs, striking them with feathers before darting across to another, and another, until every rib quivered and felt bruised from impact.