I stare at the car.
Then I burst out laughing.
I left the sheep.
At the distillery.
CHAPITRE 6
KEIRA
Revelations and bleating
I walk down the grand staircase of the castle with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to their own execution. Each step brings me closer to the confrontation I’ve managed to avoid all afternoon. Three urgent work calls, a “critical” issue with my cultural center plans, and even a completely fictional conference call with the heritage council have kept me safely locked in my room since I got back from McKenzie Distillery.
But dinner time has arrived, and even a McGregor can’t ignore family tradition forever—especially when it involves Mrs. Finley’s legendary rosemary lamb roast.
I chose a midnight-blue dress—simple, elegant, and, in my opinion, appropriate for informing my brother that I’m engaged to the heir of our family’s greatest rivals. Then again, whatisthe appropriate outfit for triggering a twenty-first-century clan war? No one ever prepared me for that.
Voices drift from the dining room. Callum is telling a story that has everyone laughing. I take a deep breath, paste on a smile, and walk in like I haven’t spent the last three hours mentally rehearsing different versions ofBy the way, I’m marrying a McKenzie.
“Ah, there’s our young fiancée!” Maggie announces, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Every head turns.
Callum—tall, broad, and currently very relaxed—looks at me with curiosity. Jane, beside him, offers a warm, encouraging smile. My mother looks equal parts anxious and amused. Lachlan, meanwhile, is deeply invested in his whisky and appears blissfully unaware of the chaos about to unfold.
“Hi, everyone,” I say, forcing cheer into my voice. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Fiancée?” Callum repeats, raising an eyebrow as his gaze shifts between Maggie and me. “Did I miss something?”
I take my usual seat. Jamison appears instantly to pour my wine.
“Thank you. And… maybe a little more than usual tonight.”
He obliges with a knowing look.
“Keira’s had a busy day,” my mother says smoothly, slicing into her roast.
“Really?” Jane leans forward. “Tell us everything.”
I take a long sip of wine. Then another.
“How was Edinburgh?” I ask, blatantly dodging the question.
“Nice try,” Callum says, that familiar teasing edge creeping into his voice. “Grandmother called youfiancée. Unless she’s reinventing language again?”
“I never said that,” Maggie protests. “I simply suggested that the birds in the garden deserve to be called ‘distinguished avians.’”
“So,” Callum says, fixing me with a look, “you have something to tell us?”
This is it.
I glance at my mother. She gives me a small, steady nod.
I set down my glass, straighten my shoulders, and?—
“Yes. I’m engaged.”
