School For Heiresses 3- Beware A Scot's Revenge by Sabrina Jeffries Page A

eager, throwing those slender white arms about his neck while he seized one full breast in his mouth to suck and taste…
    The lurch of the coach dragged him from his mad dream. He glanced out to find that they’d halted. “ Mo chreach, ” he muttered, opening the panel.
    Jamie jerked upright on the perch. “I’m awake now! I’m awake, sir.”
    “No, ye’re not.”Lachlan leaped out onto the road. “I was planning to relieve you soon, anyway. Get in the coach and sleep for a while. I’ll drive.”
    “What about the lady?” Jamie asked as he climbed down.
    “Yes, what about the lady?”Venetia echoed, her face framed in the open door, moonlight glinting off her rebellious little chin.
    “If the lady’s got any sense, she’ll sleep, too.”Lachlan opened his coat to lay his hand conspicuously on his pistol. “But if she doesn’t, she’d best remember that I still have this.” He glowered at her. “You hear me, lass? If you so much as make a sound in an inn yard, someone will die. And it won’t be me.”
    Every time he said it, he waited for her to protest that he could never do such a thing. And every time she kept quiet, it peeved him that she believed the lie so readily. Of course, she thought him the worst sort of man, no matter what he said.
    “If her nonsense keeps you from sleeping, Jamie,” he went on, “I’ll tie her up and gag her if I have to.”
    He staredVenetia down. “And enjoy doing it, too.”
    “No doubt,” she countered with a sniff. “You are awfully obsessed with the idea of tying up women.”
    She threw herself back against the seat as Jamie entered the coach and closed the door. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    “ ’Tisn’t women I’m obsessed with tying up,”Lachlan muttered, and climbed up on the perch. “It’s just you, lassie. Only you.”

    Although Venetia had done her best to vexLachlan , nothing had seemed to penetrate his thick skull. He’d acted bored the entire time, staring out the window like a warrior carved in granite, except for the occasional tick of a muscle.
    Still, she had to admit that despite his rude comments and surly manner, he’d been a very courteous kidnapper so far. They’d stopped twice more by the road so she could relieve herself. The food he’d brought had been quite tasty, and the carriage was clearly designed for comfort. She didn’t know what to think. Whenever she’d read about the Scourge, she’d imagined some bitter and lazy crofter of Papa’s who’d turned to villainy. Her friend Amelia had described the accomplices as pure scoundrels bent on murdering Amelia’s husband. And perhaps they had been, givenLachlan ’s own words about their foolishness.
    But Jamie didn’t fit that description. She would guess him to be about nineteen and, judging from how he shrank into the corner, a little nervous about being alone with her. He even jumped when his leg accidentally brushed her skirts.
    “I won’t bite, you know,” she said softly, mindful ofLachlan just on the other side of the panel.
    “No, milady.” Reaching under the seat, he pulled out a folded blanket and handed it to her. “Getting cold now. You might be wanting this.” He drew another out and made a big show of spreading it over himself before laying his head back and closing his eyes.
    “See here, Jamie, I can tell you’re not like your laird. You know that what he’s doing is wrong, don’t you?”
    He cracked one eye open. “Lachlan Ross ain’t done a wrong thing his whole life. He’s the finest man I ever knowed. So don’t speak bad of him to me. I won’t listen. And I won’t be helping you get away from him, neither.”
    After that heartfelt speech, he closed his eye, laid his head back, and promptly began to snore. Well, she couldn’t sayLachlan hadn’t warned her.
    While Jamie slept, she searched for other avenues of escape. The door nearest her had a simple latch—she could easily slip it off if