Abigail was nowhere near the guns and the shoot. She was sure Eward wouldn't let her, and besides, she had never really cared for that sort of thing. It had been a pleasant trip for her so far; she did enjoy the majority of the company. There were a few faces that she, to be honest, would rather not see, but the party was big enough that she could easily avoid them.
Bringing a hand up to cover a yawn, she moved with the picnic, eying the other women who had gone on the hunt. Foolish girls, she thought, shaking her head. And poor Charles, getting dragged along for this-- she knew how he wasn't much of a shooter. She made her way over to her own seat, thanking the help as she took a glass of wine and settled back to relax.