— Must’ve been fireworks, Savannah adds.
I nearly choke on my tea. Fantastic. Exactly what I needed: a discussion about my imaginary sex life with my absent husband—in front of his mother and grandmother—while said husband is probably drafting an amendment to our contract clarifying that kissing was a catastrophic mistake never to be repeated.
Keira and Savannah exchange a conspiratorial look that makes me groan internally. If they team up, I’m doomed.
— Where is Callum, by the way? I ask, aiming for casual.
An awkward silence falls over the table. Keira and Maggie exchange a look I can’t quite read.
— He had to leave early this morning for urgent business in Edinburgh, Maggie finally says. Something about a contract that couldn’t wait.
A contract that couldn’t wait. The morning after his wedding. Of course. And I’m the Queen of England.
— I see, I say simply, grabbing a scone to keep my hands busy.
— My son takes his professional obligations very seriously, Isobel adds, with a hint of pride.
— Unlike some of his marital ones, I murmur under my breath—low enough that only Keira, sitting beside me, can hear.
She shoots me a surprised look, quickly followed by curiosity. Across the table, Savannah is already narrowing her eyes at me, clearly preparing an interrogation.
— Trouble in paradise already? Keira whispers.
— There is no paradise when the marriage is a business contract, I whisper back.
She frowns, but before she can press further, my mom jumps back in.
— So, Jane, what are your plans for today? Your first day as Mrs. McGregor!
— I have no idea, I admit. I guess I’ll explore the area a bit.
— Perfect! my mom beams. I’ll come with you. I’ve always wanted to explore the Highlands. Maybe we’ll find a stone circle like inOutlander? I’d love to time travel…
I see Isobel roll her eyes—and for once, I sympathize. My mother has always had this uncanny ability to turn reality into a romanticized version that exists only in her imagination.
— I’m afraid time travel isn’t on the agenda, Mom, I say. And I’m not sure that?—
— Jane, Maggie cuts in smoothly, I thought you might enjoy going into town with Keira this afternoon. She knows several charming shops you might like.
I recognize an escape route when I see one.
— That would be perfect, thank you, Maggie.
— And of course, Amanda, you’re welcome to join them, Maggie adds politely—though it’s clear she’s strategically avoiding leaving my mother alone with Isobel for too long.
— Oh, thank you, but I already promised Isobel I’d show her my Celtic tarot card collection, my mom says brightly. Didn’t I, Isobel?
Isobel’s face freezes into the expression of someone caught in headlights.
— That’s… correct, she says, clearly unable to find a diplomatic excuse to refuse.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. My mother—the California hippie—cornering the formidable Isobel McGregor into an impromptu tarot session. Across from me, Savannah is discreetly wiping tears of laughter from the corner of her eye.
— You coming with us? I ask her.
— Obviously, she says. If shopping’s involved, you know I’m in.
Breakfast continues in a strange mix of forced politeness and unspoken tension. Keira keeps trying to catch my eye, silently demanding answers, while my mother enthusiastically recounts her latest tantric meditation retreat to absolutely no one. Maggie watches it all with quiet amusement, like she’s enjoying a particularly entertaining play. Savannah looks like she’s having the time of her life.
