As she stepped down, a tall, stately dark-haired man and a delicate blond woman—with an enormous belly—came up to greet them.
Ranald grinned and bowed before the man. “Your Grace.”
Anne stared at him, taken utterly by surprise. He did not dress like a duke—at least not the dukes she’d met in London. In fact, he was wearing a kilt and he looked . . . rumpled, but in a very comfortable way. His smile was warm and welcoming and he had a charming twinkle in his eye.
“May I have the pleasure of presenting your cousin, Lady Anne Bower, formerly Anne St. Claire.”
The duke held out his hand, and, with hardly any hesitation, Anne took it. He grinned at her and then, instead of kissing it, pulled her closer and pressed his lips to her cheek. “I canna tell you how pleased I am to finally meet you,” he said. He shot a look at Ranald and added, “And to hear of your wedding. Well done, my friend. Well done.”
The lovely woman at the duke’s side huffed. “Since neither of these gentlemen seem inclined to do so, I shall introduce myself,” she said, though Anne had already guessed she was the duchess. It was easy now to see why the duke had not wanted to leave her side. “I am Lana. I canna wait to get to know you better, cousin.” She also kissed Anne on the cheek.
“Ah,” the duke said with a grimace as he glanced at the others, disembarking from their various coaches. “There is Esmeralda. We had better greet her posthaste.”
“Indeed you should,” Ranald said with a laugh. “She will be put out that she was not the first to meet you.”
As the two strolled away, the group that had been on the lawn reached them. Catherine and Duncan arrived first. The former had a quick hug for Anne and then, after a few words of greeting, tugged her husband away because she’d spotted Elizabeth.
Anne didn’t mind the desertion in the least as Catherine and Elizabeth were the best of friends and had a lot of catching up to do since Catherine’s kidnapping and both their subsequent marriages. Besides, another lady, with a friendly smile and beautiful black curls, stepped up to take her place.
“You must be Anne,” she said with a smile. “I’m Hannah.” She didn’t allow a handshake. She came right in for a hug. “I feel as though I know you already. Welcome.”
“Hannah Lochlannach is the Baroness of Dunnet,” Ranald told her. “Here’s her husband, Alexander.”
To Anne’s shock, the baron, an enormous muscled man with harsh features and gentle eyes, hugged her as well.
“Ach! And here’s Andrew!” From Ranald’s tone, it was clear he and the man with white-blond hair were good friends. “If he looks familiar, it’s because he’s Alexander’s brother.”
“Lady Bower.” Andrew bent over her hand and then, when he met her eye, he winked. “Welcome to the family.” If her heart hadn’t been full to bursting, it would have been then.
“Thank you for such a warm welcome.”
“I am just pleased to see Ranald wed,” Andrew said with another wink. It was clearly an affliction he had. “After all, why should he no’ suffer with the rest of us?”
“Well, really.” This from the stunning redhead who stood behind Andrew.
He pulled a mock grimace. “Ach. You dinna hear that, did you, my darling?”
“You know damn well I did.” She frowned at him and then smiled at Anne. “I’m Susana Lochlannach. This oaf”—she jerked a thumb at Andrew—“is my beloved husband.”
Ranald leaned in. “Susana is also Hannah’s sister.”
“We married brothers,” Susana said with a mock sigh. “God only knows why.”
“Because you have excellent taste?” Andrew said, flashing some seriously wicked dimples. “And may I mention, you undoubtedly got the better end of the deal.”
To which Susana rolled her eyes.
“Where is Catriona?” Ranald asked, scanning the children playing on the lawn.
“Doona worry,” Susana said. “She and Isobel were bored, so they went hunting.”
Ranald’s nostrils flared. “Hunting?”
“No’ to worry.” Andrew clapped him on the shoulder. “We dinna give them weapons.”
“Ah . . . what a relief,” Ranald said, but he looked a little green.
“Look,” Susana said. “Here they come now.”
Anne followed her gaze to the edge of the woods, where two small girls had emerged from the trees and were running toward the coaches. One had white-blond hair that matched Andrew’s and the other had beautiful burnished locks of red that Anne would recognize anywhere. “There she is,” she whispered, and Ranald tightened his hold on her hand.
“There she is.”
“Papa!” Catriona picked up her pace when she spotted her father, then launched herself into his arms.
Anne watched with joy—and a hint of trepidation—as the two hugged.
She and Ranald were so happy together . . . but what if Catriona didn’t like her? How horrible would that be?
She held her breath as Ranald, with Catriona still in his arms, turned to face her.
“Here she is,” he said, but Anne was unsure which of them he was talking to.
The girl studied her with a somber expression on her face. “She’s my new mama?” she asked dubiously.
Anne’s heart plummeted to her toes. She shot a panicked look at her husband, and to her annoyance, he grinned. “She is.”
Catriona nibbled on her lower lip. She studied Anne for far too long. “Do you like puppies or kittens?” she finally asked in a tone that implied the question might decide the fate of the world.
Anne stared at her for a moment, knowing her answer could determine whether or not this child would accept her. It was a heavy weight to bear. But she had to tell the truth. “I . . . ah . . . love them both.”
Relief gushed through her as Catriona’s face blossomed with delight. “Excellent.” She patted her father on the cheek. “I told you I need a puppy.”
Ranald grimaced, but Anne could tell it was in mock dismay. His daughter wiggled to get down and then she ran over to Anne and took her hand.
With a wink, the little imp said, “I think we shall get along famously.”
And they did.
Oh my, they did.
Read the next installment of Untamed Highlanders by Sabrina York, It Happened Last Night with the Highlander, wherein grown-up ladies Isobel and Catriona travel to London for a season. Of course, this trip is only a lark. Neither has any intention of settling on a husband. Not at all.
About the Author
Sabrina York is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty hot, humorous written works. Her stories range from sweet and sexy to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at http://www.sabrinayork.com/ to check out her books, excerpts, and contests, and download a free teaser book filled with excerpts and reviews of her work.
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Also by Sabrina York
Hannah and the Highlander
Susana and the Scot
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Sabrina York
Copyright Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE HIGHLANDER IS ALL THAT. Copyright © 2017 by Sabrina York.
All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Author photo © Gail Marion
Cover art design by Patricia Schmitt; background © Fotolia/Inigocia; couple © Period Images
eISBN 9781250147363
First eBook Edition: October 2017
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