Lana and the Laird by Sabrina York

something awful had happened. She set her hand on Hannah’s arm. “What is it?”
    Hannah leaned closer, her brow puckered. “Immediately upon his arrival, His Grace insisted on a meeting with Alexander.”
    â€œAbout the Clearances?”
    She didn’t know why Hannah looked surprised that she’d guessed. It was only logical. Why else would the duke have come?
    â€œAye. Afterward, Alexander was verra upset.”
    â€œI can imagine.”
    â€œAnd now he’s gone off and I canna find him.”
    â€œDoona fash yerself, Hannah. He will turn up.”
    Hannah wrung her hands. “Aye. But I canna help thinking he needs me. I should go search for him. Will you be all right?”
    â€œI’ll be fine.”
    Her sister surveyed her with a steady eye. “Go get something to eat, would you? I doona want you wasting away.”
    As though she would. But she was hungry. “I shall. And I shall think on how we should handle this.”
    â€œHandle this?” Hannah gaped at her. “The duke has issued an ultimatum.”
    â€œAye.” Lana nodded. Though it looked as though all was lost, Lana was not convinced in the least.
    There had to be a reason the duke had come into her life, just now, at precisely this juncture. There had to be some reason she’d dreamed of him. Had met his mother. Had touched his soul.
    There had to be some greater purpose here.
    Though she couldn’t see what it was at the moment, she knew she would figure it out.
    Perhaps his mother, Lileas, could help …
    *   *   *
    Lana took her lunch out to her favorite retreat, on the seawall, overlooking the bay. It was such a lovely spot, with the terns wheeling overhead and the scent of the sea in her nostrils. She found it was a good place to think when one needed to think.
    And she did.
    This situation with the duke had her bewildered. And Lileas was being no help whatsoever. Whenever Lana asked her about her son or his destiny or her purpose, the bothersome woman simply faded away. Ghosts could be so vexing at times.
    The message was clear, though. Lana was meant to figure it out for herself. Which was annoying. Hence her retreat to the seawall where the stiff salty breeze could help clear her mind, and the sight of the dancing blue waters of the bay could soothe her soul.
    It was a pity she was disturbed there.
    She felt his energy before she saw him; it made her shiver, and not in a good way.
    Steeling her spine, she peeped over her shoulder. A large man in British kit with a dour expression approached. Lana knew he must have come with the duke, because no one here dressed like that. She didn’t care for the glimmer in his eyes as he looked her over.
    â€œWell, what have we here?” he murmured in a gritty voice. “A little pigeon?”
    Lana’s brow wrinkled. Though he was dressed like the duke, this man didn’t have his crisp intonation; he spoke with a brogue. On top of that, his tone had a slither she could not like. As though he had the tongue of a snake. She also didn’t care for his energy. The colors swirling around him were dark and clouded. She frowned at him. “Who are you?”
    He grinned, although it wasn’t a friendly offering. “Who are you ?”
    Och, he leaned far too near. So close she could smell his breath. Lana suppressed the urge to skitter away. She wasn’t a skitterer. Rather, she stood her ground and stared him down.
    He did not care for her impertinence. His eyes narrowed and he took one of her curls between his fingers, rubbing it with blatant intent. It was a disturbingly intimate thing to do to a person one had not yet met. She yanked her hair from his hold and he chuckled. “Yer a pretty thing,” he purred. “Housemaid?”
    Lana glowered at him. She knew the type. Powerful men who felt they could take what they wanted from any woman within their aegis. She drew herself up and met