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

that men wanted women. She’d seen that heated look on the faces of society men who’d danced with her, and she’d never let it bother her. Unfortunately, it was hard to ignore it with a man who had complete power over her. A man who’d kissed her passionately only last night.
    Not that she would let him kiss her now, no indeed. If he so much as tried it, she would make good on her threat to bite him.
    He pulled aside the shade, then frowned. “If you’ve got any sense, you’ll sleep. We’ve a long trip ahead of us.”
    She had to escape. She had to convince him to let her leave the carriage the next time they stopped. Suddenly an idea occurred to her. She did have certain physical needs; he’d have to stop for that. “It’s not sleep that I require.”
    He raised his brow at her clipped tone. “I’ve got plenty of provisions—”
    “I’m not hungry, curse you.” She was starving. It had been a long, long while since her last meal, but asking for food wouldn’t get her out of the coach, would it?
    How could she explain this to a man delicately? “I need you to stop the carriage.”
    He gave a harsh laugh. “Not bloody likely.”
    “It’s most urgent that I…Sometimes a woman…or anyone…has to—”
    “Drink something? Is it water you’re needing?”
    “No!” How could he be so dense? “The last thing I need is water.”
    The light dawned. “Ahh, you have to piss. Why didn’t you just say so?”
    She glared at him. “Because I’m not as vulgar as you.”
    “No, you’re too lofty for pissing.” A sardonic smile twisted his lips. “I could make a ballad of that for your collection, if you want: ‘Princess Proud hates to piss / She thinks it’s something crass. / And when she goes to ease herself, / Someone else must wipe her—’ ”
    “That’s enough.” A blush heated her cheeks. “And that isn’t remotely a ballad. It’s doggerel, and bad Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html doggerel at that.”
    He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He slid open the panel behind his head. “Jamie, we need to stop. The lass has got to piss.”
    “Aye, sir,” the young man said, and instantly the coach slowed.
    “Not here!” she protested. “At the next place we change the horses!”
    Lachlanarched one thick eyebrow. “You said it was urgent.”
    “I can wait until we stop where there’s a…well, you know.”
    “A privy?” He eyed her with cool calm. “If you’re thinking I’ll let you parade through an inn complaining about your abduction, think again, lassie. It’s here or nowhere.”
    Ooh, how she wished she could slap that calm from his face, then shove him out of the coach with a satisfying thump. What had Aunt Maggie said? You wouldn’t last one day with a ‘HighlandLaddie’ before you wanted to hit him over the head with the jar. How sad that she’d turned out to be right. As the carriage halted,Venetia stared out the window. No trees or bushes for miles, just fields everywhere. “I can’t…you know…out there, for pity’s sake. Anyone could see me!”
    “No one’s around to see. Make up your mind—do you need to piss or no?”
    Casting him a foul glance, she reached for the door handle. “Must you keep using that vulgar word?”
    He gave her a wicked grin. “I find it most entertaining to watch you get your dander up.”
    “You really are a blackguard,” she grumbled as she climbed out of the carriage. “Clearly you’ve been riding the roads with ruffians far too long. You’ve forgotten how to behave like a gentleman. If you ever knew.”
    To her horror, he stepped out after her and took her arm.
    She snatched it free. “You can’t possibly mean to accompany me!”
    “I can, and I will. You’re daft enough to try running off over these hills, and I’m in no mood for running after you.”
    “Lachlan, please, give me some privacy—”
    “We won’t watch, I promise. But I’m not letting you more than a few feet