“Oh, I find ways,” I shoot back with a playful wink, leaning fully into my role.
Callum clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable, which only makes Keira laugh harder. “I already love having a sister-in-law.”
We pass through a maze of hallways and rooms, each more lavish than the last, until we reach what must be the main drawing room. In front of a massive fireplace, where a warm fire crackles, sits an elderly woman in a chair that might as well be a throne.
Maggie McGregor. In the flesh.
I recognize her instantly—thank you, Google. You can never be too prepared when meeting your fake fiancé’s family.
Even seated, she commands the entire room. Dressed in elegant tweed, pearls at her throat, silver hair perfectly styled, she looks like royalty in exile. Her blue eyes—Callum’s eyes—lock onto me immediately.
“So this is your American actress,” she says to Callum without looking away from me.
The wordactresssounds dangerously close tocon artist.
“Grandmother, this is Jane Carter, my fiancée,” Callum says evenly. “Jane, my grandmother, Margaret McGregor.”
I step forward, offering my hand with what I hope is a confident smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. McGregor. Callum has told me so much about you.”
She ignores my hand and pats the sofa beside her. “Sit, child. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and I want a closer look at the woman my grandson intends to marry.”
I shoot Callum a panicked glance. He nods. I sit.
She studies me like a jeweler inspecting a questionable diamond.
“An American,” she says, as if delivering a diagnosis. “From Los Angeles, no less. Do you know it rains here over three hundred days a year?”
“I got a preview on the way in.”
“And I see your shoes are already soaked. Those dainty city boots won’t take you far in the Highlands, my dear.”
I glance down at my suede ankle boots—completely drenched. “I’ll buy something more suitable.”
“Hmm. That ring suits you. My daughter-in-law had slender hands as well.”
I look at the engagement ring Callum gave me. “It’s beautiful. I’m honored to wear it.”
Something flickers in her gaze—approval? Doubt?
“Callum explained the circumstances of your meeting.”
I swallow. First test.
“It all happened very quickly,” I say carefully. “But I assure you, my feelings for your grandson are sincere.”
Not entirely a lie. I do admire him—his determination, his intelligence. The fact that it’s not love… that’s a detail I’m keeping to myself.
She narrows her eyes. “Love cannot be commanded, child. It grows with time, like a fine whisky.”
“Grandmother,” Callum cuts in, “we didn’t come here for an interrogation. Jane is tired from her journey.”
“Silence. I am speaking with my future granddaughter-in-law.” She turns back to me. “Tell me, Jane, are you familiar with Scottish traditions?”
“Not as much as I’d like to be. But I learn quickly.”
“Excellent!” Her face lights up. “Because the wedding is in three days, and there are several rituals you must master before then.”
“Rituals?” I repeat, alarmed.
