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“Are ye tired?”
She frowned. “Nay. Have ye ever seen a Shetland pony?”
“I believe so.”
“Then ye’ll ken that they can walk for days and days without tirin’, even though they’ve only got little legs,” she replied, though her own legs were burning as she crossed the grassy slope that led down to the shoreline.
It would not have been so bad if the ground was flat, but between the incline, the hidden rabbit holes, and the mounds kicked up by moles, she was struggling with the pace. Sweat beaded on her brow, but she could not wipe it away without revealing her exertion.
“Aye, but they’re bred for such things,” he said, with a curious smile. “Ye were raised to be a Lady, able to take a carriage wherever ye need. There’s nay shame in admittin’ ye’re tired. The ground is uneven, the horses are far away, and I’ve seen my own sisters have difficulty, and they’re much taller than ye. I’ve carried them, on occasion.”
Panting harder with every stumbling step, Edwina glared at him. “It seems… the rumors… are untrue. Ye daenae have… any problem openin’ yer mouth once… ye get goin’. It’s gettin’… ye to shut it that’s the problem.”
“Ye must be tired if ye’re hurlin’ insults.” Felix laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, now ye must pay a great price for yer insolence, to atone for those unkind remarks.”
She barely had time to yelp in indignation as he suddenly stopped and charged forward instead, catching her around the waist. He hauled her over his shoulder with ease, putting her in a most undignified position: her legs and arms dangled down on either side of him, with her backside in the air. Her skirts covered her dignity, of course, but the material had ridden up a little, exposing her calves.
“Put me down!” she howled, thumping her fists against his back. All the blood rushed to her head as she hung upside down, making her dizzy. “Put me down or I’ll bite ye!”
He chuckled. “Ye must face yer punishment, Edwina.”
“Aye, but I willnae face yer backside!” she argued, smacking one of his firm buttocks as hard as she could. It was akin to smacking solid rock.
He stopped abruptly. “Did ye just—?”
“Aye, I did, and I’ll keep doin’ it if ye daenae put me down!” she retorted, though it was only a half truth. If she kept smacking him, she would surely break her hand. “It’s unseemly, and if ye daenae stop, I’m goin’ to be sick.”
With all the blood pounding in her head, she could not tell if the heat in her cheeks was from that or from the realization that she had just slapped a Laird’s backside. And not just any Laird; the most handsome of them. Still, it appeared to work, as he hoisted her back over his shoulder and set her down on the ground.
“Gratitude,” she murmured, but it was short lived.
Wearing a mischievous grin, Felix swept her up into his arms and proceeded on toward the horses. “There, ye cannae complain about that… and ye cannae smack any part of me that ye shouldnae be smackin’.”
She thrashed for a moment or two, trying to wriggle free of his grasp, but he did not even seem to notice. In truth, it felt quite nice. His arms were powerful, and he wielded her as if she weighed nothing, while the broadness of his chest inspired a feeling of security. Gradually, she calmed, looping her arms around his neck for additional safety.
Part of her longed to nestle into him and rest her head against his shoulder, fully enjoying the ease of not having to walk. But the stubborn streak within her refused to give him that satisfaction.
“That’s better, is it nae?” he said, smiling down at her.
She pursed her lips. “It is nae unpleasant, nay.”
“Och, then I suppose it isnae much of a punishment.” He laughed softly, and she felt the rumble of it in his chest, like a cat purring. Nevertheless, he did not put her down, carrying her all the way to the horses.
She would not have admitted it, but she was almost sorry when he put her down so she could climb up into the saddle. Yet, even then, he helped her up, placing his strong hands upon her waist to push her into position. And when she went to slip her foot into the stirrup, his fingertips cradled the back of her ankle, guiding her foot. Memories of the previous night rushed back into her mind, prompting her heart to pound and her stomach to flutter wildly.
“Are ye determined to cause me another scandal?” she teased, her voice thick.
He gazed up at her, his hand still holding her ankle. “As we’re to be married, there can be nay more harm done.”
“So, ye’re nae goin’ to have me involved in a terrible accident so ye daenae have to see it through?” It was meant in jest, but the hurt upon his face made her wish she had held her tongue.
“Nay, I intend to do right by ye,” he insisted, taking hold of her hand and pressing a kiss to it. “I’m sorry for sayin’ that I would forbid ye from doin’ somethin’, just because ye’ll be my wife. I hope ye ken that I dinnae mean it.”
The touch of his lips to her bare hand made her gasp. “As I hope ye ken I wouldnae punch ye, though I wasnae lyin’ about havin’ a mean one.”
“There is one thing I must forbid ye from doin’, though.” He mustered a smile, but it did not reach his eyes, which turned suddenly sad.
“Oh?”
