Still, he said, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Alright,” Abigail replied.
They headed out after breakfast, only to find the two men lying outside when they opened their door!
The two men’s clothes were disheveled as they lay flat on their blacks.
Diarmuid was left scowling and speechless.
“Why are they out here?” Abigail asked, crouching as she did and frowning when the stench of alcohol hit her in the nose. “Were they drinking?”
“Probably,” Diarmuid said, and he called Eagle along with the chauffeur. “Bring them inside.”
Once the chauffeur did so, he drove out with Mrs. Watson for her routine shopping for the children.
Abigail told Mrs. Watson, “Get them some pick-me-up too. They drank a lot.”
In fact, they were still unconscious.
“Okay,” Mrs. Watson replied. “Don’t worry—just leave them in the guest rooms, and I’ll tend to them.”
Abigail nodded and told Diarmuid, “Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
Diarmuid drove out of the mansion first, with Eagle following in another car.
Seeing that they were not heading to the hospital, Abigail said, “You’re going the wrong way. Take a left up ahead.”
“You’re going to work,” Diarmuid told her.
Abigail was speechless. “No, I’m going to—”
“If not the research center, my office it is,” Diarmuid cut her short before she could finish.
Abigail was adamant on going to the hospital nonetheless. “Look, I’m worried if I don’t visit.”
“What good would that do? You won’t change a thing,” Diarmuid said, refusing to listen. “What you can do right now is wait. You’d make things worse if Dennis Turner’s family were there—they’d just start wrangling you.”
In fact, Abigail should not show up as long as Dennis had not cleared this dangerous phase.
Soon, Diarmuid started heading toward his office. “Now is the time for restraint.”
Abigail shot him a look and snorted coolly. “So you were lying when you said you’d take me to the hospital.”
“Would you have gotten in my car if I didn’t?” Diarmuid chuckled smugly. “Be nice and listen for once.”
But it was not as if Abigail had a say in the matter—Diarmuid would not take her to the hospital no matter how many times she asked, and it was not as if she could jump out of a running car.
She was at his mercy now, since she had underestimated him.
“You’re despicable!” she snapped, pursing her lips. “I should have known this would happen. You’d never take me to the hospital!”
Forced to listen since she would never win, she huffed, “I won’t go to the hospital, but I’m not going to your office either.”
“Hmm?” Diarmuid spared her a glance.
“What would I do while you work? I can’t help, and I don’t know a thing about your work.”
She might even be laughed at, since Diarmuid already left her humiliated at Twinrise before.
“Then what do you have in mind?” Diarmuid asked.
Nothing came to Abigail’s mind even as her mind worked furiously… although she would not have left the house if she knew Diarmuid would stop her from going to the hospital.
“Just drive me home. I’ll stay with Tommy.”
“Your mind will wander in the silence.”
Abigail gave up right then.
“Fine. I’ll go wherever you take me.”
Diarmuid raised a brow. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not a schemer like you. I’d never win.”
“Why does it sound like you’re just pouting?”
“I’m not.”
And she certainly was not—she had actually given up on resisting.
With that, Diarmuid started to drive to the suburbs, and Abigail did not ask where they were going.
It was very far, too, since he drove a long while before stopping.
As they alighted, all Abigail saw was a boundless meadow.
“I didn’t know there’s a place like this…” Abigail murmured as she turned toward Diarmuid. “What’s this place for?”
“You will know when you’re inside,” Diarmuid said, putting a hand around her shoulder.
There was a building nearby, and the person standing at the door quickly approached him when he saw Diarmuid.
“It has been a while, Mr. Althoff.”
Abigail lifted a brow and wondered to herself if Diarmuid was a frequent guest here.
Why else would the man greet him so warmly?
Still, she had yet to find what this place was for.
“And who might this lovely lady be?” the man asked, turning towards Abigail just then—this was the first time Diarmuid brought a woman here.
“My wife.” Diarmuid nodded slightly. “Please show us the way to the horse stables.”
Abigail’s eyes widened and turned in surprise toward Diarmuid, asking softly, “Are we riding horses?”
“Yeah. So? Are you afraid?” Diarmuid asked.
Horse-riding was certainly a novelty for Abigail since she had never done it before.
However, she wielded scalpels and cut people open, starting out with corpses while she was an intern.
In that sense, what was there to fear about horses?
Spurred by her ego, she reared her chin. “Don’t underestimate me.”
Diarmuid chuckled. “Sure.”
They headed into the building and took a small cart to the stables.
It was ten minutes until they stopped outside the stables. There were forty stalls arranged in four rows, and each horse’s fur was a lustrous sheen and their figures robust.
Abigail was no expert, but even she could tell that they were all good horses and well bred.
Carl Dunham approached them then—he was waiting there after learning about Diarmuid’s arrival.
Smiling at Diarmuid and Abigail, he said, “I did hear that you weren’t alone, Mr. Althoff.”
Turning to Abigail, he continued, “Mr. Althoff has never brought women here before, and to think that the first would be his wife! Do come by more often if you can.”
As Abigail nodded politely, Diarmuid leaned in to whisper beside her ear, “He owns this stable.”
Abigail nodded in realization, and she said, “It’s my first time, so do pick a more docile steed for me.”
“Don’t worry, ma’am. Just leave it to me.” Carl smiled and turned towards Diarmuid. “I’ll get your horses now while you get change, Mr. Althoff.”
“Good,” Diarmuid said flatly.
There was a building to the rear, and Diarmuid had a private room to himself even though other visitors were wealthy patrons too.
Diarmuid even had his own rider apparel, though an attendant soon delivered Abigail’s soon after they went inside.
The service was certainly top of the line, and the riding apparel fit Abigail to the tee.
Diarmuid’s was black while hers red.
Although red clothing could look terrible if it did not suit the person, Abigail appeared sharp and imposing.
The colors were a perfect match too: white shirt, red vest, red pants, and black boots.
When they returned to the stables, Carl had already picked them two horses: one white and one black.
The black one had a white patch of fur on its head that resembled a lightning bolt—Diarmuid usually rode it.
“Do you need help?” Diarmuid asked.
Abigail shook her head—she wanted to do it herself.
It was delightful just seeing riders spurred their horses to gallop overcast open plains on TV.
Even though they were not in an open field now, the greenery here was a vibrant emerald and it was certainly wide enough!
The groundskeepers must tend to the grasscape meticulously.
“Did you use to come here often?” Abigail asked.
“Occasionally. Not often,” Diarmuid replied—this had been one of his pastimes.
Abigail was skeptical. “Mr. Dunham seemed to be really enthusiastic with your arrival…”
She stopped herself before she finished.
After all, this was a pastime of the rich, and as long as you had the money, they would certainly remember your name and be enthusiastic about your patronage!
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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