—Anytime, he replies with a grin. Now go win back your wife before she decides Hollywood actors are more appealing than brooding Scots.
1 Traditional dance gathering.
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.
