School For Heiresses 3- Beware A Scot's Revenge (7 page)

Her chest constricted. He had her other arm trapped against the back of the seat, which left only the one that lay against the gun. She might be able to grab his arm, but it was thickly muscled, and she probably couldn’t win that fight. Besides, if the gun accidentally went off…

“You wouldn’t kill a fellow soldier,” she said, as much to convince herself as him. The carriage began to slow as a voice hailed the driver. “Are you willing to gamble a man’s life on it?”Lachlan hissed.

As she hesitated, gazing at the implacable features of a man she no longer really knew, she heard the guardsman ride around to the carriage window.

Lachlanmuttered an oath. Before she even realized what he was up to, he reached over to lift the shade on that side, then slid his free hand behind her neck to hold her still while he shoved his mouth against hers.

That was the only way to describe it. It certainly wasn’t a kiss, for his lips were as rigid and unmoving as rock. But to anyone looking at them from the outside, they would appear to be in an intimate embrace, two people in love.

The irony of it made her want to weep. Especially when he tugged her hair free of its pins, scattering it down her back to create the impression that they were in the midst of…that he was in the midst of…

“Not a sound, ye ken?” he murmured against her mouth. “Or I swear the guard dies.” He pressed the side of the gun against her ribs where her arm hid the muzzle from view. “If I don’t kill him, Jamie will.”

For a long moment they sat poised, withLachlan ’s pistol lying beneath her underarm and his mouth against hers in a mockery of their kisses last night.

Kisses he hadn’t meant. Kisses he’d given her only to lull her, to persuade her to go off with him today. Curse the wicked blackguard!

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A horse snorted mere feet away and the guard’s gaze bore into her back through the window. Suddenly, the guard laughed and called out something toLachlan ’s accomplice. Then the carriage moved again, and her chance for any escape vanished into the wind.

It was too much for her. She bitLachlan ’s lip. Hard.

“Holy Christ!” he spat as he drew his head back. “What the bloody hell—”

“Let me go!” she cried, ignoring the pistol. Elbowing him in the ribs, she struggled wildly against his hold.

“Let me go, you scoundrel!”

As a string of Scottish oaths poured from him, he practically tossed her across the carriage to get her off his lap. She scrambled into the other seat and glared at him, surprised to see that he’d gone entirely pale except for the brilliant scarlet of the blood trickling from his lower lip. When he wiped it from his mouth with a curse, she refused to feel any guilt. He was in for a surprise if he thought she’d continue to go meekly along with this madness. So he wanted to destroy her father, did he? Fine. But she would make him regret kidnapping her every step of the way.

Last night she’d made the mistake of relaxing the habits and practices of a lifetime. That had got her here, so no more. As Mrs. Harris always said, a lady’s weapons weren’t made of steel, but they could still cause harm. It was time to embrace them, to use whatever she had to fight. Because no one took advantage of Lady Venetia Campbell with impunity. Not even the Scottish Scourge.

Chapter Six

Dear Charlotte,

Once more I find myself in the uneasy position of having to apologize for an insult I didn’t realize
I had given. You seem to take offense easily these days. Is everything all right at the school? Or
am I the only one who annoys you?

Your concerned friend,

Michael

L
achlan stared at his captive, not sure whether to throttle her or applaud her. Princess Proud had a fierce little temper. Who’d have thought it?

Mo chreach,
she’d bit him hard. And that was before her elbow to his ribs had made him see stars.

“You’ve turned into quite the termagant,Venetia .”

“At least I haven’t turned into a thief! At least I don’t prey on poor, defenseless women—”

“Defenseless? You bloody near bit my lip off!”

She glowered at him. “And if you ever try to force a kiss on me again, Lachlan Ross, I’ll finish the job.”

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Force
a kiss…the woman was trying his patience. “Dinna fash yerself, lassie,” he growled as he restored his pistol to the special pocket in his coat. “That kiss was purely for show.” It infuriated him that she could believe he would take advantage of her. Or that he would
need
to. “I can have any woman I want in Ross-shire; I don’t need to dally with the likes of Duncannon’s daughter to gain my pleasure.”

Her chin quivered. “And last night? Wasn’t that a dalliance?”

More like a mistake.
“It was part of my plan, that’s all.” He wasn’t about to let the fearless female guess how badly he desired her. No telling what portion of his anatomy she’d destroy if she knew
that,
the little shrew.

But she didn’t look like a shrew just now. With her rich mane of ebony hair tumbled down about her shoulders, she looked young and wounded and vulnerable, as would any lass whose sheltered life had been shattered in a moment. Her loch-green eyes glimmered with so much dark hurt, it made him want to draw her back into his arms and kiss that sweet, trembling mouth.

“I can’t believe this,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’d never have guessed that the Scourge is you, that you could be capable of such treachery.”

“I only want what’s owed to me and my clan,” he ground out. “If you accuse anybody of treachery, it ought to be your blasted father.”

“Oh? What awful thing could he possibly have done to justify this?”

“Aside from trying to have me killed? Aside from ordering his men to—” He caught himself. If she knew she could torture him with just the jab of her elbow, the rest of the trip would be a nightmare.

“To what?”

He’d tell her only the barest facts of that. “To drown me.”

She stiffened. “Even if that’s true—and I doubt it—you can hardly blame him, given how you’ve been robbing all his friends for no reason.”

“No reason!” He snorted. Her self-righteousness helped him remember she was a means to his end, nothing more.

And it was high time the wench learned why. “I’ll give you a reason, Princess Proud. Your father is a thief and a liar. Thanks to him, my clan has been struggling since before I returned from the war.”

That wiped the haughty expression from her face. “What do you mean?”

“Did yer father ever tell you about yer Jacobite grandfather, Wily Will Campbell, the third Earl of Duncannon? One of the few Campbells who didn’t fight with the English at Culloden?” When she nodded, he settled back against the seat. “After the ’45, Wily Will was stripped of his title, and his lands were forfeit to the Crown because he supported Bonnie Prince Charlie.”

“I know.” She folded her arms over her breasts…her too-ample breasts that were thankfully shielded from his gaze by that shroud of a purple gown. “Papa got Braidmuir back when the lands and dignities were returned to families in1784.”

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“Not quite. The debts owing on the properties had to be paid first.”

She shrugged. “So Papa had to pay some money. What does that matter?”

“What ‘matters’ is how much. Forty thousand pounds, it was.”

The blood drained from her face.

He wasn’t surprised. Duncannon had kept the truth from everyone else; why not his daughter, too? He went on in a cold voice. “Yer father was young and didn’t have forty thousand pounds, so he borrowed it. From
my
father, his closest friend, whose family stayed out of that mess and who owned a rich estate and fine lands.”

Her fingers plucked distractedly at the fabric of her sleeve. “Papa said something once when I was a girl…about how I should be nice to you because we owed your father a great debt. But I didn’t realize he meant it literally.”

“Well, he did.” His voice chilled. “And after yer mother died, he leftScotland and what was left of his

‘great debt’ behind him—thirty thousand two hundred and ninety-six pounds.”

She was already shaking her head. “I’d be the first to admit Papa’s faults, but he’d never renege on a debt, and certainly not such a large one. He has a strong moral sense.”

Ah, yes,Lachlan had been on the receiving end of that “moral sense” years ago. “He reneged. My mother told me of it after I returned. She said she urged Father to press the matter with the earl, but he wouldn’t.”

“I-I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t your father—”

“Devil if I know, though I’ll wager he was afraid of yer father’s powerful friends.” Gritting his teeth, he stared at her. “And we had money then to spare, fine crops, plenty cattle, and fat and happy crofters. I suppose since Father knew how hard Duncannon took his wife’s death, he let the loan slide for a bit.”

He balled his hands into fists. “He said it was only right to show Christian charity to a suffering man. He told Mother that the earl would pay once he finished his grieving. But then Father died and the war ended and the cattle—”

“I know. I heard that prices fell drastically afterWaterloo .”

He nodded grimly. “I came home to find Rosscraig in shambles. Yer father had turned his land over to sheep farmers, so
he
was sitting pretty down inLondon , but Mother and I refused to do that to our crofters.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he leaned forward, planting his hands on his knees. “We
needed
the money your father owed, and he didn’t give a bloody damn. I wrote him letters. He ignored them. I traveled toLondon to see him—”

“You did?” she said suspiciously.

He bristled. “You were at school then.”

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“But he never said anything.”

“Haven’t you heard what I’m saying? Yer father’s a scoundrel—he’ll not tell you that he threw me from his house for demanding that he repay his loan.”

“I don’t believe you. Papa’s an honorable man; he would never do that.”

Her persistent faith in her father, despite what he’d told her, infuriated him. “Ask him and see what he says.”

“Let me go home and I will,” she shot back.

“Oh no, lassie,” he snapped, “you’re not going anywhere until yer father repays that money. Until he looks my mother and my clansmen in the eye and admits that he took advantage of my father’s friendship and the lack of papers—”

He caught himself, but it was already too late. Her pretty green eyes were sparking anew with temper.

“Lack of what papers?” When he sat there mute, she said, “There’s no proof of this loan, is there? If there had been, you would have taken the matter to the courts. Your desperate mother trumps up this tale—”

“It’s the truth, damn you! Your father admitted it when I went toLondon !”

“Oh?” She folded her hands primly in her lap, the very picture of a lady who thought she was too good for the likes of the Ross clan. “What did he say?”

He stiffened. “That my father forgave the loan.”

“There, you see?”

“And when I demanded evidence of it, he had me tossed into the street. Because he knew he was lying.”

“Or he didn’t want to deal with an irrational fool demanding money.”

“Come now, lass, you’re no idiot—do you really think my father would forgive a thirty-thousand-pound loan? Because
yer
father was grieving?”

She swallowed. Clearly even Princess Proud could see it was unlikely. “But you still have no proof.”

“I have my mother’s word. Father may not have told her where he hid the papers, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Did you never hear how he died?”

Her eyes big and solemn, she shook her head.

“He went to help a crofter get his bull out of the burn, and the bull gored him. He was dead within minutes—nothing anyone could do.” He gritted his teeth. “And no chance to tell my mother anything, either.”

“ButLachlan —”

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“If yer father isn’t guilty of this treachery, why has he never reported me to the authorities for robbing his friends? He must have known I was the one, taking what I needed since he wouldn’t give me what he owed. I
know
he knew—that’s why he sent men to kill me.”

Her expression hardened. “Even if I believed this tale about the loan, I couldn’t for one minute believe Papa capable of plotting murder. Why should he, if he knew who you were? Why wouldn’t he just have you arrested?”

“Because he knew what wrong he’d done, damn it!” Fury seized him. “Devil take you, lass, I promise you he sent men to kill me. Why do you think I can’t—”

He caught himself before he admitted his physical difficulties. Bloody hell, she was like a priest, she was, wheedling more from him than he should say.

“Can’t what?” she asked.

“Nothing. It’s between me and yer father.”

Her eyes turned cold. “Clearly, it’s not just between you and him, or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Blame
him
for that. If you’d been
my
daughter, I would never have let you set foot anywhere near the highways where the Scourge rode.”

Her lower lip trembled. “He thought you were dead.”

“And now he’ll know I’m not, won’t he?”

She jerked her head away to glance blindly out the window. “I suppose you’ll send a message to summon him toScotland .”

“Aye. He should receive it in a few days. And there’s a note for yer aunt in Seton’s carriage, as well.”

“My aunt!” Her gaze swung back to him. “Oh no, she’s stuck on that mountain with the colonel! They’ll be waiting for me to come, and I won’t—”

“They’ll get down one way or the other. At the very least, Seton’s coachman will go look for them when they don’t return.”

She got dangerously quiet, clearly working through something in her head. “Colonel Seton is part of this, isn’t he?”