Chapter 29 #2
Silence falls over the room the moment we appear.
About twenty people are seated at the table—Isobel at one end, Maggie at the other, Keira halfway down, and of course Heather, beautifully dressed in an emerald green gown that looks like it was made just for her.
All eyes turn toward us, and I feel my cheeks flush.
—Ah, there are our missing ones! Maggie exclaims, breaking the silence with her usual enthusiasm. We were beginning to worry.
—Please excuse our lateness, Callum replies in his composed voice. We were caught in the storm during our walk.
—And where exactly did you take shelter? Heather asks with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
—In the old guard cabin on the north hill, Callum answers without missing a beat.
—Oh, that cabin, Keira comments with a devilish smile. The one where you used to hide as a teenager when you wanted to escape Mum? What a coincidence that you ended up there today.
Callum shoots her a look that promises terrible revenge, but she simply raises her glass in his direction, unfazed.
—Well, the important thing is that you’re safe and sound, Isobel interjects, though her expression suggests she isn’t fooled. Come sit down. We’re at the main course.
Two seats have been left empty in the middle of the table, and we slip into them as the servers bring our plates. I notice that my place is, of course, directly across from Heather. Because the universe clearly has a very particular sense of humor.
—Jane, my dear, she comments, examining me as if I were a specimen under a microscope. Your hair still seems damp. The storm must have been intense.
—Torrential, I reply, picking up my fork. But fortunately, the cabin was solid and resilient.
Keira coughs to hide her laughter while Heather’s eyes narrow.
Under the table, I feel Callum place his hand on my thigh, and I relax at his touch.
—You missed the beginning of dinner—and Lachlan’s stories, Ewan tells me from my left.
—My stories are fascinating! Lachlan protests from the other end of the table. I’m sure Jane and Callum would have loved the one about my encounter with that mermaid near Loch Ness.
—A mermaid? I repeat, grateful for the distraction.
—Don’t encourage him, Ewan whispers. He’ll start again from the beginning, and trust me, it’s a story that lasts longer than the construction of the castle.
—In that case, I say aloud, I’ll ask you for a detailed summary later, Lachlan. For now, I’d like to know what else I missed during our absence.
—Oh, not much, Keira replies innocently. Heather was telling us how unfortunate it was that you didn’t have a full traditional Scottish wedding ceremony.
I nearly choke on my sip of water.
—Really? I say, looking at Heather.
—I was expressing my surprise at the absence of certain traditions during your wedding, she explains with a polite smile. The McGregors are usually so attached to their customs.
—Sometimes, circumstances dictate choices, Callum replies in a calm but firm voice. And the speed of a wedding does not reflect the depth of the feelings involved.
His hand finds mine under the table and squeezes gently.
—Exactly, I confirm, holding her gaze. Some people spend months planning the perfect ceremony and end up divorcing a year later. Others get married on impulse and stay together their entire lives.
—Or begin with a practical arrangement and discover much more along the way, Callum murmurs so softly I may be the only one to hear it.
—Nevertheless, Heather insists, deliberately ignoring our exchange, traditions matter—especially in a family like yours, Callum. I remember how attached you were to the McGregor legacy when we were together.
—People change, Heather, he replies calmly. What seemed important to me a few years ago doesn’t necessarily matter today.
—Really? I would have thought certain values remained constant—honor, loyalty, duty to family…
—Honor and loyalty are precisely the reasons I married Jane, Callum cuts in, his voice firmer now. As for duty to my family, it now takes a different form, because Jane is my family.
A stunned silence follows that statement. A deep warmth spreads through my chest at his words. With a single sentence, Callum has placed me at the center of his world, above even the ancestral traditions of the McGregors.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Maggie raise her glass in our direction, a satisfied smile on her lips.
—I think, she says, that we should make a toast. To Callum and Jane, and to their own way of reinterpreting McGregor traditions.
Everyone raises their glass, even Heather, though her smile looks more like a restrained grimace.
—To Callum and Jane, the guests echo in unison.
I take a sip of wine, my gaze meeting Callum’s. In his eyes, I see the promise of a future that wasn’t written into our original contract.
Dinner continues, conversations resuming their normal flow. I answer questions about my archery victory, Callum discusses the Highland Games results, and little by little, the attention shifts away from our late and disheveled arrival.
Then a small cry rings out, followed by a muffled curse. All eyes turn toward the source of the noise: Heather, whose emerald dress now bears a red stain from spilled wine.
—I am terribly sorry, Keira apologizes, standing beside her with an empty glass in hand. I slipped. How clumsy of me.
Her tone suggests anything but an accident, an impression confirmed by the discreet wink she sends me.
—It’s nothing, Heather replies with forced politeness, though her eyes flash. It will come out with cleaning.
—You should rinse it right away, Isobel suggests with concern. That silk will be ruined if you wait.
—I’ll show you where the nearest bathroom is, Keira offers with suspicious enthusiasm.
As they leave the room, Keira throws a glance over her shoulder that clearly says you owe me. I suppress a smile, already planning to buy my sister-in-law the most extravagant gift for her next birthday.
—Red wine is so treacherous, Ewan comments beside me. Almost as treacherous as certain ex-girlfriends, wouldn’t you say?
I can’t help but laugh, drawing a few curious looks.
—That’s true, I confirm. But unlike wine, some stains are impossible to erase.
—Are you philosophizing after your cabin adventure? he teases under his breath.
I feel my cheeks heat.
—You’re about as subtle as a herd of Highland cows, Ewan Fraser, I murmur.
—I’ll take that as a compliment, he replies with a wink. And for what it’s worth, I’ve never seen my friend as happy as he is today. Whatever happened in that cabin—and I don’t want details—it did him good.
I glance at Callum, engaged in conversation with one of the game participants, and I notice that new lightness in his expression, that subtle easing of shoulders that had always been tense since I’ve known him.
—Me too, I admit softly. It did me good too.
Dessert is served shortly after—an assortment of traditional Scottish sweets accompanied, of course, by whisky. Heather and Keira return, the former now sporting a lighter but still visible stain on her perfect dress, and a smile that grows more strained as the evening goes on.
I feel strangely detached from her bitterness now, as though what happened between Callum and me has created a protective bubble around us. Her passive-aggressive remarks and pointed comments slide off me without effect.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of polite conversation and loaded glances, Maggie lightly taps her glass to draw attention.
—My dear friends, she announces, it is getting late, and some of you have a long journey ahead tomorrow. I suggest we allow our newlyweds to retire for the night—they must be exhausted after this eventful day.
Her mischievous gaze meets mine, and I suddenly wonder if this woman possesses psychic powers.
—Excellent idea, Grandmother, Callum agrees, rising immediately and pulling me with him. Jane needs rest after her exceptional performance in archery today.
Several coughs and muffled laughs follow this unintentionally suggestive statement.
—Among other exceptional performances, I’m sure, Ewan murmurs loudly enough for several people to hear.
We say our goodbyes, thanking the guests for their presence and promising to share breakfast with those staying the next morning. Heather watches us with an unreadable expression, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass.
—Good night, she finally says. Rest well after such a trying day.
—Oh, we don’t intend to rest much, I reply with an innocent smile that makes Keira choke with laughter and several guests widen their eyes. The day has been so stimulating that I’m still full of energy.
Callum shoots me an admiring look before firmly guiding me toward the exit.
—You’re diabolical, Jane Carter-McGregor, he murmurs once we’re in the hallway.
—You love me like that, I shoot back confidently.
He stops abruptly, turning me to face him. His expression is serious, intense, his eyes locking onto mine with an emotion that steals my breath.
—Yes, he says simply. I love you like that. I love you, period.
My heart seems to stop, then restart at a frantic pace. Those words—so simple and yet so powerful—hang in the air between us.
—I love you too, Callum McGregor, I reply, surprised by how easily they leave my lips. Who would have thought, huh?
—Certainly not me when I signed that contract, he admits with a small laugh. But I’ve never been happier to have been wrong.
He kisses me there in the middle of the hallway, a kiss that holds every promise of a future neither of us anticipated.
A kiss that tastes like unexpected happiness, like life’s surprises.
That strange but wonderful certainty blooms inside me—that sometimes, the best fairy tales begin with a contract.
—And now, I murmur against his lips, what if we went upstairs to discuss renegotiating certain clauses of our marital arrangement?
—That is an excellent proposal, my wife, he replies, leading me toward the stairs. I have a feeling these negotiations might last all night.
—At the very least, I agree with a smile. After all, details matter in this kind of contract.
—Very much so, he confirms, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a thrill of anticipation through me. And I intend to examine every detail with the utmost care.
As we climb the stairs hand in hand, I can’t help thinking that for an actress who never really believed in fairy tales, I’m suddenly living a dangerously happy ending.
And the best part is… it’s only just beginning.