What am I supposed to say? Spin a bold lie about passionate love? Recite polite clichés about marital bliss? Or tell the truth—that I’m a disgraced actress who agreed to play the role of fiancée for money, and who’s now starting to wonder if the role is becoming real?
I take a deep breath.
Then I look around.
At the curious but kind faces. At people gathered to celebrate a love they believe is real. I see Keira’s encouraging smile. And Callum—watching me, a flicker of concern in his usually unreadable gaze.
And suddenly, I know.
— When I arrived in Scotland, I begin softly, I didn’t know what to expect. I knew the clichés, of course—castles, kilts, rain… lots of rain.
Soft laughter ripples through the room.
— What I didn’t expect was the warmth. Not from the sun, which is admittedly quite rare…
More laughter, louder this time.
— But from the people. The way a family can welcome a stranger and make her feel like she belongs. The way an entire village can come together to celebrate not just a union, but the very idea of community.
I pause, surprised by my own sincerity.
— I’ve learned a lot since I arrived. I learned what haggis is—and, against all odds, I survived to tell the tale.
The room erupts in laughter, and I even catch Isobel smiling.
— I learned that Scottish dancing is far more dangerous than it looks—especially for kilts.
Callum flushes slightly at the reference, but his eyes remain locked on mine, something new flickering there.
— And I’ve learned that sometimes, the most unexpected things can become the most precious. Like a castle becoming a home. Or an arrangement becoming…
I stop, suddenly aware of how close I am to the truth.
Our eyes meet.
— Becoming a new beginning, I finish.
I raise my glass.
— So here’s my toast: to Scotland, for welcoming me. To the McGregor family, for embracing me. To Callum, who chose me. And to Hamish, who seems to have adopted me—after terrifying me.
Hamish, as if on cue, lets out a soft bleat at my feet, drawing another wave of laughter.
— Slàinte mhath, I conclude.
— Slàinte! the guests echo.
I drain my glass in one go, relieved to have survived. When I look at Callum again, I’m struck by the intensity of hisgaze. There’s something new there. Something that looks like admiration… or maybe even?—
No. That’s ridiculous. It’s just exhaustion and stress playing tricks on me.
Hamish chooses that moment to return to his floral feast, now targeting the main table decorations, drawing amused reactions from the guests.
— I think our special guest has decided the speeches are over, I comment with a laugh.
— And he’s right, Maggie agrees, collecting our glasses. It’s time for dinner. Jane, my dear, that was absolutely charming. You surprised us all.
She moves off to direct the staff, leaving Callum and me alone in the hum of guests taking their seats.
