He smiled at her shock before she laughed to cover her unease.
“Quite right. To wake up next to that sight each morn would be torture indeed.”
Aedan refused to be caught in any more of her nonsense. Instead, he turned his attention to his clansmen before him, one table in particular. He willed Abigail to look at him, to smile, nod, anything, but she ignored him.
Black Ben picked up her hand and kissed it, her laughter ringing out, both of them enjoying the night immensely.
The sound of his chair scraping against the flagstone floor finally caught her gaze. That she looked at him with little affection or care shouldn’t annoy, but it did. In fact, the sooner he left, the better. No one wanted to see a laird throw a woman over his shoulder and carry her from the room.
Not bothering to pay his regards to his dinner companions, he headed toward the anteroom. Fury at himself, at Black Ben, at Abigail, made his vision glaze over with red. Once the door closed and he was alone, he poured himself a large draft of whisky and downed it in one swallow, before repeating the action numerous times.
Anything to take his mind off the fact he wanted to murder and kiss to madness the lass from the future who wouldn’t be tamed.
Chapter 11
Her ass hurt. The fact that the horse in front of her kept letting off disgusting smells and popping noises didn’t help, either. Abigail shifted again in the saddle, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable ache that had settled there after the first mile, but nothing seemed to work.
How much longer were they expected to ride? All the way to bloody London?
Right at this moment she hated Scotland with a passion, and coming in a close second was the idiot who’d thought riding horses would be a good idea. Namely, Aedan.
The women around her chatted and laughed, every one of them enjoying the outing. She wasn’t. All she wanted to do was go back to the castle where she could rub her bottom in the privacy of her room.
“Are ye alright, Abigail?”
She cringed. “Not really. How much longer do we have to ride these beasts?”
Gwen laughed and pulled her horse alongside Abigail’s. “Only another mile or so and we’ll break for lunch. Aedan has organized a light repast for us all on the northern hill overlooking the keep. Some of the men not competing today will be there, too.”
“So your beau will be there.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact that was obvious by the loving look on Gwen’s face at the mention that Braxton would be present.
“Perhaps.” Gwen grinned, quiet a moment before she said, “But really, are ye well? You seem to be in pain.”
“I want to walk. My bottom is so sore. I’ve never ridden a horse before.”
“I’m so sorry. I never even thought. I assumed you’d be used to it, but, of course, you’re not.” Gwen rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her. “I promise, ’tis not too much longer.”
Abby smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll survive.”
And she did. Only another half hour and they arrived at the designated picnic spot. The view on top of the hill overlooked endless miles of heather-covered fields, the purple blossom shimmering like water on the top of a loch on a windy day.
The closer they came, the more Abby’s bottom hurt and her desire to be off her mount became almost unbearable. Climbing the last few feet to the top of the hill, her horse seemed to slow and she had the urge to kick it into a trot, anything to get there faster and dismount.
She stopped beside a man she’d seen take the horses from the clansmen at the castle, flipped her leg over the back of the horses rump, and slid off the side. Not used to the position she’d been sitting in the last couple of hours, or the fact her bottom had become numb, her legs gave out on her as her feet touched the ground and she landed on her rear with an oomph.
A pair of strong arms came around her from behind, eliciting a shock of awareness through her body. “Are ye alright, lass?”
Aedan’s words, kind and soft enough for only her to hear, whispered against her ear. She shivered as he helped her to stand. Abby turned, meeting his concerned gaze, a gaze that also held something she didn’t want to acknowledge. “I am, thank you. I’m merely a little