— These old trinkets, she says, touching her pearl necklace, they’ve seen so many McGregor dinners they could probably seat themselves by now.
I smile, appreciating her self-deprecating humor.
— Jane, Callum says, are you alright?
His gaze is softer than usual. I wonder if it’s because of our conversation after the paparazzi incident, or just a performance for his grandmother.
— I’m fine, thank you. A little nervous about meeting all these people, but nothing a good glass of champagne can’t fix.
— Speaking of which, Maggie says, I must inform you of a small change in the program.
Oh no. I already hate that sentence.
— What change? Callum asks cautiously.
— I thought it would be charming for the two of you to give a short speech tonight, she declares as if announcing a delightful surprise. To welcome the guests and express your happiness on the eve of your union.
My stomach tightens. A speech? Without preparation? In front of all these strangers already watching me like some kind of spectacle?
— Grandmother, Callum begins, we haven’t prepared anything?—
— Oh, but that’s much better! Maggie insists. The most sincere words are those that come from the heart, not the ones written in advance.
She pats my arm affectionately.
— And don’t worry, my dear. You’re an actress—improvisation must be second nature to you.
With that, she moves away to greet other guests, leaving Callum and me in stunned silence.
— I’m sorry, he finally says. I didn’t know she was planning this.
— It’s not your fault, I sigh. Your grandmother is creative in the way she tests us.
— You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.
I raise an eyebrow.
— And disappoint Lady McGregor? I’d rather duel Hamish.
Callum lets out a soft laugh, a sound that has become less rare in recent days.
— Speaking of which… look who decided to join the party.
I follow his gaze and spot, to my astonishment, Hamish standing proudly at the entrance of the hall, observing the festivities as if waiting for a personal invitation.
— How did he get in here? I ask, incredulous.
— Hamish has his methods, Callum replies with a resigned shrug. During events, he always finds a way to invite himself in.
— Don’t tell me that’s also a tradition.
— No. Just an annoying habit. I’ll ask Jamison to escort him out before he causes any damage.
But before Callum can act, Hamish calmly walks into the room, heading straight for the floral arrangements decorating the tables.
— Oh no, Callum…
We watch, helpless, as Hamish begins methodically nibbling on one of the centerpieces. Several guests notice the plump intruder and laughter starts to ripple through the room.
