Chapter 2
KEIRA
How to start a full-blown family crisis in one sentence
It takes me a few seconds to realize I actually said those words out loud.
“Alistair McKenzie? The McGregors’ worst nightmare?”
My grandmother’s voice shoots up into a pitch I didn’t even know she could reach. My mother’s eyes go wide with shock.
“Alistair McKenzie? You cannot be serious.”
My smile slowly spreads. This is completely insane. And yet… the more I think about it, the more perfect this plan becomes.
Who else could guarantee that Maggie would immediately abandon her matchmaking schemes? She’ll be so busy trying to understand how a McGregor could possibly be engaged to a McKenzie that she’ll leave me alone for weeks. Months, maybe.
“I don’t like this at all,” my grandmother declares.
“Keira Isla McGregor,” my mother says sharply—sharper than I’ve ever heard her—“have you completely lost your mind? Alistair McKenzie? The man you’ve publicly argued with at the last three heritage council meetings—and at Callum’s wedding?”
“Four,” I correct automatically. “The last one was especially heated because he suggested installing a whisky bar in the bell tower of the old church.”
“You are not helping your case!” my mother exclaims. “This is madness.”
She stares at me like I’ve just announced plans to raise dragons in the garden.
“You hate his approach to modernization!”
“I dislike certain aspects,” I hedge. “But it’s a prestigious project, and honestly, it would give me the opportunity to influence his vision—steer it in a direction that’s more respectful of tradition.”
Maggie turns to Robert, who looks just as stunned as she does.
“Come along, my dear. I think it’s time I saw you out.”
They walk away, and I turn my gaze back to the valley.
“You have that look,” my mother murmurs.
I glance at her. She shakes her head, incredulous.
“What look?” I mutter.
“The same one you had when you were eight and decided to ‘restore’ the portrait of old Laird McGregor with oil pastels.”
I just shrug.
“When were you planning to tell us?” she asks, arms crossed, eyes still wide with shock.
I flinch. I hadn’t planned on telling anyone at all, actually. This impulsive plan has already spiraled way beyond me.
“It’s recent,” I say vaguely, waving a hand. “Very recent.”
The look she gives me could melt Arctic ice. She’s always been the voice of reason against Maggie’s theatrics—and I’ve never seen her this unsettled.
“A McKenzie?” she repeats, like the words themselves taste wrong. “How is that even possible? You spend half your life arguing with that man!”
“Opposites attract,” I offer with a nervous laugh.
She shakes her head.
“Since when? How? Why? I mean… a McKenzie, Keira!”
“It happened gradually,” I improvise, forcing sincerity into my voice. “Our arguments turned into… something else.”
“Into an engagement?” she chokes out.
I just nod.
Silence falls between us, but I can practically hear the gears turning in her head.
“He’s the first of his clan in generations who seems almost reasonable,” she admits, “but he’s still… a McKenzie.”
I blink, startled.
“Reasonable? Mom, that man suggested turning the old washhouse into a public jacuzzi.”
“A ‘heritage thermal spa,’” she corrects. “And honestly, between us, it wasn’t the worst idea for preserving the structure while making it useful.”
I stare at her, speechless. My own mother. Defending a McKenzie. Something is deeply off tonight.
“How are you—when did you—why are you defending him all of a sudden?”
She shrugs.
“I’m not defending him. I’m recognizing that, unlike his ancestors, he’s trying to balance tradition and modernity. And trust me, after thirty years around your grandmother, I’ve learned that balance is the only way traditions survive.”
I look back out over the hills, chewing on my lip. I shouldn’t keep digging myself deeper into this lie—but now that I’ve started…
“That’s exactly what drew me to him,” I say softly, seizing the opening. “That sense of balance. Beneath the arrogance, there’s someone who truly understands how to evolve traditions without betraying them.”
My mother stares at me like I’ve just told her I’m training to be an astronaut. Or worse—English.
“You’re serious, aren’t you? This isn’t some elaborate joke to escape Robert?”
I shake my head, my heart pounding.
“How did this even happen?” she asks, still reeling. “You were practically throwing documents at each other during the last council meeting!”
“It was after that meeting,” I say, pressing forward. “He caught up with me in the parking lot. We argued again—of course we did. And then… I don’t know. Something shifted. It was like all that intensity we put into fighting just… turned into something else.”
I look away, unable to meet her eyes as I spin this story—but the words come disturbingly easily.
“He invited me to tour his distillery. To show me how he blends innovation with tradition. I wanted to say no, but I was curious. And then… one thing led to another.”
My mother sinks down onto the stone wall like her legs can’t quite hold her anymore.
“We were waiting for the right moment to tell everyone. But with Robert—and Maggie’s plans—I panicked.”
Silence settles between us. I don’t dare look at her. Instead, I fix my gaze on the McKenzie distillery in the distance.
What have I gotten myself into?
“So… you love him?” she asks suddenly.
The question hits me so hard I nearly slip off the wall.
“I—it’s complicated,” I stammer, buying time. “We’re so different, but—”
“But you love him,” she finishes.
This time, it’s not a question.
I bite my lip. Do I keep lying… or come clean?
“Yes,” I whisper finally, choosing the coward’s way out. “As unlikely as it sounds.”
My mother exhales slowly.
“Oh, Keira. A McKenzie.”
“I know. Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am.”
She studies me carefully.
“And he loves you too?”
I swallow hard. There’s no turning back now.
“He told me he does.”
“And the castle? He did call our ancestral home a ‘picturesque but outdated ruin.’”
I grimace.
“We had a long discussion about that. He admits he can be… provocative.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“But deep down, he respects history. He just has a different way of honoring it.”
The words flow too easily—like some part of me has already thought all of this through. Like, despite all our clashes, I’ve actually imagined what it might be like to be with Alistair.
My mother watches me closely, as if trying to read between every line.
“Well… I suppose you won’t be bored together.”
I smile.
“No. Boredom is definitely not a risk.”
Then it hits me.
If I keep this up, I actually have to convince Alistair to go along with it. A McKenzie. Grandson of the man who swore eternal vengeance on the McGregors after my grandfather “accidentally” spilled coffee on his kilt at a town council meeting.
I check the time.
“We should head back.”
I hop down from the wall, brushing dampness from my jeans. My mother follows, her expression still serious.
“Keira, if you really are in love with Alistair McKenzie…”
I swallow but nod, keeping up the illusion.
“Then I’ll support you,” she says. “But promise me you’ll be careful. The McKenzies are not known for their loyalty—and this rivalry between our families won’t disappear overnight.”
“I know.”
“Maggie is going to explode like an old whisky barrel left in the sun. You do realize that, don’t you?”
I wince.
“I’m aware. But she’ll come around. She got used to Jane.”
“Jane isn’t a McKenzie,” my mother reminds me. “She isn’t the heir to our oldest rivals.”
“Love doesn’t follow orders,” I declare with theatrical flair that surprises even me.
My mother squeezes my hand.
“No. And that’s exactly what worries me.”
We walk back toward the castle as twilight slips into night. Despite the story I just spun, a knot tightens in my stomach.
What have I done?
Now I actually have to contact Alistair McKenzie. The thought of facing my longtime rival with this completely unhinged proposal already makes my palms sweat—but I lift my chin anyway.
I’m a McGregor. We don’t back down from a challenge.
Even if that challenge involves convincing a McKenzie heir to pretend to be my fiancé.
God help us both.
“I just wonder,” my mother adds as we reach the front door, “how Callum is going to react when he finds out his little sister is dating a McKenzie.”
I stop dead.
“Oh… I hadn’t thought about that.”
She pats my shoulder.
“You might want to start preparing. Your brother comes back tomorrow with Jane. And if you think Maggie is protective, just wait until you see Callum.”
With that, she pushes the door open and steps inside. The Highland hills disappear behind us into the night.
As we cross the hall, I can’t shake the feeling that I may have just triggered the biggest McGregor–McKenzie clash in history.
A nervous laugh slips out of me.
How am I supposed to convince Alistair McKenzie to go along with this?
Or worse… how am I going to explain the truth when my family finds out?
Then again, we wouldn’t be real McGregors without a little chaos.