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His voice trailed off as she darted out at the pigs, grasping one, but splashing hard and off-balance into the largest puddle. Filthy water and slurry kicked up on her skirts, some flecks even managing to strike her bodice, and the piglet himself, wriggling against her, bore even more muck.

“Difficult,” Benj finished lamely, watching as the other piglet trotted a moment before stopping to sniff something.

Avoiding looking at Martha at all, he moved to this piglet and snatched him up without too much bother. Then and only then did he face Martha.

Her expression held no horror or disgust, but he did detect an air of laughter in her eyes and the corners of her mouth. The piglet in her arms had settled, but Martha still held him tight.

“Ah,” Benj murmured as he came to her, his own laughter rising up. He switched the piglet in his hold beneath an arm, and extended his hand to her. “Might I … help you out of the puddle, Miss Smith?”

Martha dropped her head back on a merry laugh, the sound dancing majestically across the hills and grass, the mud and the brush almost discordant with her appearance, and yet so incomparably perfect. “You may, my lord,” she eventually giggled, grasping his hand and taking a marked step out of the puddle, then releasing his hand to clutch the pig once more. “I can see I shall have to take your advice rather than my own in this.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Benj mused as they started towards the barn with their piglets. “You did, after all, manage to snatch him. The effect was quite resounding.”

“And staining,” she quipped, glancing down at her dress. “Fine idea to wear pale cotton on a day like this, but there is no help for it now.”

Benj gave her a sidelong look. “You don’t have to do this, Martha.”

She met his gaze evenly, still grinning. “Oh, I know. But I might as well. Spending time with you was all I had in mind for this afternoon. Why not hunt your property for wandering piglets?”

Gads, he could have kissed her for that, and were his arms not occupied with a fussing piglet, he might have done.

It seemed he would have to one way or the other before the day was out.

The next four piglets were less complicated, though there was a great deal more running involved for both Benj and Martha. With that running came laughter, and with that laughter came the realization that life at Pontcaster, as derelict as the place was, could be glorious with the right woman beside him.

With Martha beside him.

It was far too soon to make any statements or ask any questions of her, and he was not at all convinced that the good-natured woman with shocking clarity of sight would have any interest in joining him in such a long and uncertain prospect, but it was the only thing that made sense to him since his turmoil had begun.

He was falling in love with Martha Smith, and he highly doubted anything would stop that.

He glanced over at her now as they walked away from the barn in search of the final two piglets. Her dark hair still maintained most of its elegant hold, though several tendrils had dislodged themselves, and short wisps danced in the air at her brow and over her ears. Her gown was smudged in countless places, likely filthy beyond saving, and her petticoats bore at least five inches of mud.

Yet even like this, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, and the sheen of perspiration on her face only made her beauty more pronounced.

What woman in the world would have done this with him? Would have done this for him? Would have taken the situation by the reins and willed it to her own ends? Did nothing disrupt her serenity of spirit?

She was extraordinary. And suddenly, he wanted nothing less than extraordinary.

Martha caught him staring, and her smile was quick even as her cheeks flushed. “What are you looking at? My hair must look a fright, and heaven only knows how much mud has landed on my face, but I must tell you, my lord, you are not one whit behind me in dishevelment and dirt.”

“Nothing looks a fright,” Benj murmured, shaking his head. “In fact, I was just thinking that I’ve never seen anything lovelier.”

Her eyes widened and her smile faded. Not entirely, thank heavens. She seemed almost amused by his statement, yet there was no mistaking the astounded air about her. He had struck something with his statement, something she had not anticipated and perhaps could not see. But how would she respond?

That would tell him more than anything else could.

“I’m not often speechless, Benj,” Martha said softly, her smile growing just a little, “but you have rendered me so. Were you any other person, I would think you flatter me, but you are no flatterer, are you?”

Relieved beyond measure, Benj shook his head very firmly once more. “I am not.”

She hummed a quiet laugh, her eyes bright. “Thank you. And despite my previous statement, you wear the dirt and dishevelment rather well.”

Benj barked a laugh. “You are very kind.”

“I mean it!” Martha insisted, giggling along with him and stepping closer to his side. “You are no less attractive for your present state, and it suits you. Not all men would be so fortunate. I can name several in London who would look quite a fright.”

“Then it is fortunate this is my lot and not theirs,” Benj replied as he smiled at her, heat coursing through his veins as the word attractive pulsed in his mind.