School For Heiresses 3- Beware A Scot's Revenge (28 page)

“Of course not.”

“And if
he
tries to kill
me
—”

“He won’t, I promise,” she said hastily.

But what if Papa
did
try to kill Lachlan? Or challenged him? Even if Papa came prepared to be reasonable, their discussion of the money might escalate into a battle that ended in bloodshed anyway. Lachlan rose and seized her corset to help her lace it. “Now will you agree to marry me?” he murmured, his breath warming her neck.

She thought of what Lady Ross had said about how bloodshed might be prevented. “Only if you’ll make me one promise.”

His fingers froze on the corset ties. “I already promised not to call yer father out.”

“I know.” But that didn’t solve the problem of Papa, who had a tendency to come roaring into any situation with his mind made up. “Before you say anything to him, before you even see him, I want to meet with him.”

“No,” Lachlan said flatly.

Her heart lurched in her chest as she faced him. “Hear me out. I know how to get around Papa better than you do. If you’ll just give me the chance to explain the situation to him in a rational manner—”

“No, never.” Eyes glittering, he drew on his drawers, then his trousers. “I’m not having my wife do my
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dirty work for me.”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “It wouldn’t be like that. Think of it as sending in a negotiator. Because I know once I set everything out for him, he’ll see things properly.”

He scowled as he pulled on his shirt and fastened the buttons. “Ye’re mad if you think I’ll stand back and let you offer him concessions I’m unwilling to make.”

“I won’t do that!”

“Aye, you won’t. Because the only talking you’ll be doing is to tell him that we’re married, that you were willing. He and I will settle the rest between us.”

If they even got that far. “You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I understand right well, lassie.” His eyes darkened to a smoky black. “You want to smooth it all over—coax yer father into giving me yer dowry, instead of making him admit to his responsibilities. Then you’ll come tell me that the dowry is enough, and that’ll be the end of it for you. Only it won’t be the end of it for me. It never can be.”

“What does it matter how the money comes to you?”

“It matters, damn it!” He dropped to the floor to draw on his boots, then swore as he landed on his leg badly. “Look at me—I still can’t even sit down without making an ass of myself, thanks to yer father!

And you want me to let the whole thing pass?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“But that’s what you think. I’ll be giving yer father a piece of my mind no matter what, lassie.” He jerked on his boots. “I won’t stand by and let him bully me and mine before my clan ever again.”

She blinked. “Again? When did my father ever bully you?”

A flush touched his cheeks, and he dropped his gaze to his boots.

“There’s something you haven’t told me, isn’t there? Something else between you and my father.”

“Nothing of any importance,” he said, though he wouldn’t look at her. “Not compared to the money.”

Well, she’d find out about it somehow. “You’re forgetting that I want to make sure you get the money.”

“Aye. By taking me out of the discussion.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I won’t allow it, and that’s an end to it.”

Oh, he was such a proud fool! “I’m just trying to avoid a fight between you and Papa. Why can’t you see that, curse you?”

“I told you I won’t call him out. That’ll have to be enough.”

She wrapped the
arisaid
about her and belted it, then strode up to lay her hand on his arm, gentling her voice. “And will you promise not to fight with him at all, no matter what he says or does?”

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Anger flared in his face. “You can’t expect me to promise something as foolish as that, lass. I have to defend myself if he attacks me.”

That’s exactly what she was afraid of. “So the result will be the same as if you
did
call him out. You’ll argue, tempers will get hot, he’ll go for your throat, and before I know it, you’ll be beating him to a bloody pulp.”

“Would you rather he beat
me
to a bloody pulp?”

“No!” She read skepticism in his face, and hurt scored her heart. “How could you even think that? I don’t want
anyone’s
blood shed!”

“Too late for that, lassie—blood has already been shed.” He nodded to the pile, where her virgin’s blood stained the fleece. “And that blood ties you to me, damn it,
me
. So you’ll let me, yer husband, decide how this is handled.”

She gazed up into his anguished features. “And what about your clan? Don’t they get a say? They need the money, but they need
you
more. What will happen to them if you’re arrested for murder? Or worse yet, are murdered yourself?”

He scrubbed his hands wearily over his face. “They’ll get on. Besides, that’s not going to happen.”

“Can you promise that?” When he hesitated, she pressed her advantage. “Because I swear that if you let me speak to Papa first, there will be no bloodshed.” That much she was certain of. If she could only get Lachlan to agree.

For a moment, she thought that appealing to his protective nature had done the trick, that he would be sensible about this whole thing.

Then his body stiffened, and his eyes hardened. “You ask too much of me.”

She stood there stunned, watching him become the Scourge once more, a man whose uncompromising principles were sure to be the end of him.

“So nothing has really changed,” she whispered. “I’m still Duncannon’s daughter to you.”

Temper flared in his face. “I don’t think of you that way, and you know it.”

“Don’t you? You’re still certain I’d take my father’s side in any discussion. You still can’t put aside your vengeance for me.”

“It’s justice I want, not vengeance!”

“The trouble is, I want neither. I want peace. For you
and
your clan. And peace won’t be found if you and my father go at each other with daggers drawn.”

“You don’t want peace, lassie,” he said, eyes glittering. “You want peace at all costs. Sometimes peace isn’t worth the cost. Not if it means a man doesn’t have justice. I will have my justice, and yes, I will have it at any cost.”

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“Then I can’t marry you.” She turned for the door so he wouldn’t see the tears starting in her eyes.

“Because I fear I will lose you to your justice.”

“You won’t lose me.” He hurried up behind her and, catching her by the arm, swung her around to face him. “I won’t let you go, lass. At the very least, I mean to give you my name before yer father comes.”

“Why? So I can live as your widow? That’s how I’ll end up after you’re murdered by my father. Or if you kill him—” She broke off with a sob. “I’d rather take my chances being ruined and alone, thank you.”

“Venetia,” he said hoarsely, trying to draw her back into his arms.

“Don’t.” She resisted his pull, and when that made him only more determined, she added, “I’ll scream, I swear I will. I’ll scream until my father’s men come running, and then I’ll tell them that Sir Lachlan Ross is alive and well and trespassing on my father’s property.”

She held her breath, praying he didn’t call her bluff. She could never risk anything happening to him at the hands of her father’s men, but she had to do
something
to make him leave her right now. Because if he began kissing her again, she didn’t know how long she could hold out. He released her with a curse. But as she reached for the door, he murmured, “Don’t be thinking I’ll let you go that easily again, lass. I know you need time to sort things out. But I mean to have you as well as my justice. You can be sure of that.”

With those words ringing in her ears, she drew the
arisaid
over her head and hurried out the door. But she’d gone only a short way before she ran into two Scotsmen. They looked as startled to see her as she did them. Then one demanded, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, I got lost,” she mumbled, aware that Lachlan was probably on the verge of leaping out of the cottage to protect her. “I’ll be leaving now.”

The man lunged toward her as if to stop her, but just then a racket erupted from the cottage loud enough to alarm even the sheep. As the nearby flock scattered, the men rushed inside to investigate, leaving her to run neck-or-nothing for the bridge.

She only had time to glance back and see Lachlan slip from behind the cottage and melt into the woods before the men dashed back outside and began looking around for her. Fortunately, she’d reached the bridge, and within seconds she was safe again on Ross land.

But as she hurried up the road toward Rosscraig, thanking heaven for her narrow escape, she wondered if she’d ever really feel safe again.

I mean to have you as well as my justice.

That’s precisely what she was afraid of.

It was long after midnight in Edinburgh when Maggie hesitated on the steps of the colonel’s town house. No lady ever went alone to a gentleman’s abode, and certainly not this late. But if what she suspected
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about Hugh was true, she dared not twiddle her thumbs at the inn. After a few quick raps with the knocker, she awaited the servant impatiently. But the colonel himself answered, lacking coat, waistcoat, or cravat, with his shirt unbuttoned and the tails hanging free. The sight of him with tufts of chest hair showing and his manly chin jutting free of collar points and cravat was most unsettling. Hugh was even handsomer in dishabille than fully dressed. Though a faint odor of brandy clung to him, it wasn’t unappealing, especially since his eyes were clear as he gaped at her. “What in blazes are you doing here at this hour? I told you—”

“You told me a great many things, Colonel Seton,” she snapped as she pushed past him, forcing herself not to notice his virile appeal. “About the men going after my niece, about the daily reports—”

“Yes, yes, and they haven’t arrived yet. I explained all that—the men may not be able to find a postmaster very easily. Such things take time, you know.”

She whirled around to find him stuffing his shirt into his trousers and trying to make himself look presentable. The gentlemanly gesture further infuriated her. She’d begun to consider him a man she might actually care for—until she’d found out that all his understanding and sympathy had been a lie. She stiffened. “Yes, things take time, especially when there are no men. No riders. No reports. When the entire mission is concocted from thin air.”

His head shot up so fast that she knew she’d hit on the truth. And the look of panic in his eyes told her that it was probably even worse than she’d feared.

“I thought so,” she said, turning for the doorway.

He grabbed her arm, holding her in a surprisingly powerful grip while he thrust the door shut. “Now, Maggie, don’t be a fool just because ye’ve got some daft notion—”

“Don’t you dare call me Maggie, you sly bastard!” she hissed as she broke free of him. “I allowed it when I thought you were a gentleman, but I shan’t stand for it now that I see what you really are!”

Eyes the color of rain-drenched slate stared her down. “And what is that?”

“A liar. A blackguard. An accomplice to that scoundrel, the Scourge.”

He let out a low oath, then seized her arm again. “It appears you and I need to have a discussion, Lady Kerr. But not where the servants might hear.”

He marched her down the hall with an officer’s brisk command, ignoring her attempts to get free. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so hasty in rushing over to accuse him without her manservant to protect her. Her alarm intensified as Hugh forced her into what appeared to be his study, then shut and locked the door behind them.

This wasn’t the blundering colonel she knew. This man was used to ordering soldiers about…and forcing women to do as he pleased. Good heavens.

She backed away, glancing about for a weapon as he strode past her to light more candles on the
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mantel. Two were already lit on the desk where he’d obviously been sitting when she’d knocked at the front door, and beside them lay a letter opener. It wouldn’t do much good, but it was something. Keeping a wary eye on him, she edged in that direction. “I should warn you that I instructed my servant to go to the authorities if I don’t return shortly,” she lied. “He knows all my suspicions. If I go missing, this is the first place he’ll come looking for me.”

“I see.” He flexed his jaw angrily as he set the lit candles into their holders. “So you’ve got yer mind set about me, have you?” As he turned from the mantel, he fixed his gaze on her mouth, his voice softening.

“How could you even think I could hurt you, after last night?”

Last night, when she’d foolishly allowed him to kiss her in the hall outside her inn room. She’d told herself it was just to allay his suspicions until she heard her manservant’s report, but that was a lie. Hugh had a way of touching her that made her feel youthful and full of energy. She found that quite hard to resist after her years alone. Indeed, they’d kissed rather shamelessly until someone had come up the stairs, forcing them to break apart.

It horrified her just to think of it now.

Standing before the desk, she seized the letter opener behind her back. “Last night was only your way of taking my mind off what you were really up to.”

“And what might that be?”

“Aiding and abetting the Scourge in kidnapping my niece.”

“Ah, yes, of course. You’ve decided I’m a villain.” With a forced smile, he came toward her. “But if you’d give me the chance to explain—”

“Halt right there, Colonel Seton!” she cried, brandishing the letter opener. “Or I’ll gut you like a fish!”

He flinched, then swore under his breath. Altering his direction, he went behind the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a knife the length of her forearm. Then, seizing it by the blade, he offered her the hilt over the desk. “If you mean to gut me, at least use a weapon that’ll do some damage. That pig-sticker will scarcely draw blood.”