Chapter 34
CALLUM
When I arrive at the castle, I find Keira, Maggie, and my mother having breakfast in a tense atmosphere.
—Ah, there he is at last, my grandmother announces when she sees me walk in. We were wondering where you’d gone at this hour.
—I needed to think, I reply absently. Where’s Jane?
The three women exchange a look that sends a knot of dread forming in my stomach.
—She left early this morning, my mother informs me with studied neutrality. She said she needed to clear her head.
—Left? I repeat, alarmed. Left where?
—She didn’t say, Keira answers, visibly worried. Just that she’d be back later and needed some time alone to think.
—Or perhaps to prepare her departure, my mother suggests.
—Isobel! Maggie snaps, disapproving.
My mother dabs her lips with her napkin, folds it neatly, and sets it on the table. When she turns back to me, I have the distinct feeling I’m not going to like what comes next.
—Do you remember the gentleman in that lovely painting behind you?
I don’t need to turn to know she’s referring to a nineteenth-century family portrait of a particularly stern ancestor surrounded by his many children.
—That’s old Angus McGregor, the first of his name, I say. My great-great-grandfather. Father shared his name.
My mother nods.
—Indeed. And do you recall what he was known for?
I frown, and she continues.
—He was known for his determination, she says proudly. He saved the family business during a particularly difficult time. He never hesitated to make whatever sacrifices were necessary. His family’s well-being came before everything.
I’m starting to see where this is going.
—If you have something to say, say it plainly, I snap, losing patience.
My mother’s eyes flash.
—Callum, she begins in a low voice, we are genuinely concerned about you.
This marriage seems so rushed, so unlike you.
So out of character that we’ve begun to wonder if you made this…
“sacrifice” for a specific reason. Perhaps related to the clause in your father’s will about being married before your thirty-third birthday?
My blood runs cold.
How could she possibly know about that clause? My father’s will was supposed to be confidential—known only to me and the lawyers.
—I don’t know what you’re talking about, I attempt, but my hesitation betrays me.
—Callum, my mother sighs. Ronald Mitchell told me everything.
Ronald Mitchell. My father’s lawyer—and my mother’s close friend. Of course.
—So it’s true, my grandmother says. You made an arrangement. A marriage of convenience. She gets her reputation restored, you get your inheritance.
—That’s not…
I stop, unable to finish the sentence without outright lying. Because at its core, that’s exactly how it began—a practical arrangement, a mutually beneficial contract.
But things changed.
I don’t know exactly when or how, but something shifted between us. The shared looks, the moments of quiet understanding, the strange connection that grew… it all went far beyond the terms of our original agreement.
—Listen, Callum, my mother says, I understand your reasons. You did what you thought you had to do—for the business, for the family legacy. That’s admirable, in a way. But now that the objective has been achieved, perhaps it’s time to reconsider—
—No, I say firmly. There’s nothing to reconsider.
—Callum, my grandmother interjects, no one would blame you for admitting you made a mistake. These things happen. A discreet divorce, after a respectable amount of time…
—There will be no divorce, I cut in, louder than I intended.
—Callum, be reasonable, my mother insists. This situation isn’t sustainable. Jane doesn’t belong in our world. She doesn’t understand our traditions, our values.
—She understands them better than you think, I reply, a rare anger rising in me. And who are you to decide whether she “belongs” in our world? She’s my wife now. She’s part of this family—whether you like it or not.
My mother leans back slightly, taken aback by my tone.
—I see you’ve developed an attachment to her, she says, her voice suggesting she’s describing an unfortunate but treatable condition.
That’s understandable. She’s attractive—exotic, even.
But think long-term, Callum. In a few months, a few years at most, when the novelty fades, what will remain?
A woman who will never truly understand your heritage. Your responsibilities.
—Maybe I’m tired of logic, I say, surprising even myself with the honesty of it. Maybe sometimes you have to follow something else.
—Like what? she asks, genuinely puzzled.
—Like your heart, perhaps? my grandmother suggests.
There’s both amusement and compassion in her expression.
—Maggie, please, my mother says sharply. Don’t encourage this madness.
—The madness, my dear Isobel, is believing you can plan every aspect of life—especially love, my grandmother replies calmly. Trust me, I tried.
She turns to me with a knowing smile.
—Jane has decided to leave and abandon her husband, my mother declares.
Cold anger floods my veins.
—Jane has not decided to leave, I say firmly. And even if she did, it wouldn’t be to “abandon her husband,” as you put it—but to pursue her career. A career she put on hold to come here and adapt to our world.
My mother looks genuinely surprised.
—You’re defending her? she asks. Even as she considers abandoning you—and the McGregor name—to return to her old life?
—She hasn’t abandoned anything, I fire back, my voice dangerously low. She’s been offered a professional opportunity and is weighing her options. Options I’ve made harder by refusing to tell her how I actually feel.
—And how do you actually feel, Callum? Maggie asks gently, watching me like she already knows the answer.
—I love her, I say simply. More than anything. And I need to tell her before it’s too late.
A stunned silence follows.
Then, unexpectedly, my mother stands and walks toward me.
She studies me for a long moment, and I realize I have no energy left to argue. If she can’t accept my wife…
—Well, about time, my boy.
I frown, confused. Maggie stands and joins us. I look from my mother to my grandmother—they seem to know something I don’t.
—Your father never intended to force you into marriage, my mother finally admits.
—What?
Maggie takes over.
—He wanted to give you a year to find love—but you’re as stubborn as Hamish. You didn’t even try.
—We thought you were going to give up, my mother adds.
I take a step back, hit by the full weight of it.
—You set me up?
—No, my grandmother says. Not exactly…
A bitter laugh escapes me. All of this… for nothing.
—Callum, you have to understand, your father wanted you to find the right person, my mother says.
I can’t even process it.
—You’ve got to be kidding me.
—Language, young man! Maggie scolds.
I point at both of them, my patience snapping.
—Oh no. You’re not getting off that easily—
—Do you love her, Callum?
My mother’s question cuts straight through my outrage.
I stare at her, stunned.
—We can’t change what’s already been done, she continues. You’re married to Jane now. If you truly believe this marriage has a chance of making you happy, then you need to fight for it. So I’ll ask you again—do you really love Jane?
I fall silent. My thoughts collide in my head—but at the center of it all is Jane. And thinking about her sparks something inside me, something I’ve never felt before. I don’t want her to leave. The mere idea of it tears something apart inside me.
—Yes. I love her.
—Then what are you waiting for? my mother says simply. Go find her. And tell her.
I stare at her, stunned by the shift.
—You… approve?
She exhales slowly.
—I haven’t been easy on Jane, she admits.
At first, I didn’t think she belonged in our world—in our family.
But I’ve seen what she’s done to you, Callum.
How she’s opened you up. Made you smile again.
I haven’t seen you this alive… ever, if I’m being honest. And if this conversation has taught me anything, it’s how deeply you love your wife.
So go, she urges. Go get her. And tell her what you just told us.
—What are you waiting for? Maggie demands impatiently. Go! Go after her, Callum.
I don’t need to be told twice.
I leave the dining room at a brisk pace, ignoring the satisfied smile my grandmother shares with my mother and the thumbs-up Keira throws me.
I head for the northern hill—the one where the old guard hut stands. The same place Jane and I took shelter during the storm. The place where everything changed.
It’s instinct—but I know Jane now. She’s sentimental. Drawn to places that carry meaning. And that cabin marks a turning point—the moment our arrangement became something real. Something deep.
As I near the path leading up to it, I spot a familiar figure ahead of me.
Jane.
She’s wearing jeans and a thick sweater—she’s finally figured out that Hollywood fashion doesn’t survive the Scottish climate—and she’s walking slowly, hands tucked into her pockets.
I break into a run.
—Jane! I call out.
She turns, surprised, and stops. I can’t read her expression from this distance—but she doesn’t run. I take that as a good sign.
I reach her, slightly out of breath, and we stand there on the windy path, facing each other like uncertain opponents.
—I was afraid you’d already left, I admit, breaking the silence.
—I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, Callum, she says softly. Even if things are complicated between us, I wouldn’t just disappear.
Her without saying goodbye sends a chill through me. Has she already made her decision?
—Were you heading to the cabin? I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
She nods.
—I needed to think. That place… it means something to me. To us.
—It does to me too, I admit. That’s how I knew I’d find you here.
A faint, sad smile touches her lips.
—You know me well.
—Not well enough, apparently. Not if I couldn’t even tell you how I really feel.
She looks at me, surprised, her eyes widening slightly.
—And how do you really feel, Callum?
This is it.
The moment to let go of my pride. My fear. My restraint.
To show her the real Callum McGregor—the one no one, not even me, truly knew… until she walked into my life.