— Earth to Jane, Keira calls, waving her hand in front of my face. Where did you go?
— Nowhere, I reply quickly. I’m just tired.
She studies me with a sideways smile that reminds me of Callum’s.
— You know, she begins in a suspiciously innocent tone, my brother was oddly concerned about your well-being tonight. He asked Jamison to make sure you had everything you needed for your fitting.
— That’s normal, isn’t it? He’s my future husband, after all.
The word husband feels strange in my mouth, like a piece of clothing I haven’t quite learned to wear yet.
— Callum isn’t the attentive type, Keira explains. He’s efficient, yes, but not thoughtful. Not like that.
I feel my cheeks warm slightly and turn away to remove the dress, hiding my face from her.
— He probably feels guilty about the photo incident.
— Hmm, maybe, she concedes, though her tone suggests she doesn’t believe that for a second. Or maybe my dear brother is starting to develop feelings that weren’t part of your little contract.
I freeze, halfway out of my dress.
— I don’t know what you’re talking about, I reply, my voice slightly higher than usual.
— Of course you don’t, Keira shoots back with an audible smile. Just like you’re not blushing right now.
— I’m not blushing! It’s just the effort of taking off this dress.
— Of course.
Keira helps me carefully hang the precious gown while I slip into a simpler dress for tonight’s dinner.
— You know, she continues as if we were discussing the weather, it would be understandable if your feelings were evolving. You’re spending a lot of time together, in stressful and emotionally charged situations. It’s like in those novels where two people who can’t stand each other end up falling madly in love.
— We don’t hate each other, I correct automatically. And real life isn’t a novel, Keira.
— Too bad, she sighs theatrically. I think you would make a perfect couple. The passionate, impulsive actress and the rigid businessman who learns to let go…
— You should write books, I cut in, running my hands through my hair to make it somewhat presentable. Or better yet, stop seeing a future where there isn’t one.
Keira raises her hands in surrender, but her smile doesn’t leave her lips.
— Fine, I’ll drop it. But keep in mind that the best marriages often start as practical arrangements. Ask any historian.
— I’ll pass on the history lesson tonight, thank you, I reply, grabbing my bag. I have a rehearsal dinner waiting for me, and apparently half the village to impress.
— Don’t worry about that, Keira reassures me as she follows me out of the room. They’ll love you. Especially since Hamish gave you his blessing.
— You know about that too?
— Jane, she sighs as if explaining something to a particularly slow child, we are in a small Scottish village. The story of a sheep attacking a paparazzo to defend the American’s honor is already part of local folklore.
— Fantastic, I sigh.
The rehearsal dinneris held in the castle’s great hall, transformed for the occasion into a banquet space worthy of a historical film. Long U-shaped tables fill the room, decorated with wildflowers and tartan elements. Candles and lanterns create an intimate atmosphere despite the imposing size of the hall.
And there are people. A lot of people.
— You told me half the village, I accuse Keira as I take in the crowd. This looks more like the entire village, plus every neighboring hamlet.
