Strangely, as we progress, Lachlan seems to warm to me. His insults soften, almost affectionate, and eventually he starts giving me real clues.
“You’re not as useless as you look, McKenzie,” he admits as we near the end. “And you make Keira happy—which is what matters.”
His final clue leads me to a small room adjacent to the archives. Inside, on a shelf, sits an old wooden box.
My pulse quickens as I open it.
Inside lies an antique flask—one half bearing the McGregor tartan, the other McKenzie. Exactly like the whisky label Keira and I discovered.
Maggie and Keira have joined us, and the old woman studies my reaction carefully.
“What is this?” I ask, unsettled.
“Some family mysteries aren’t meant to be explained,” Lachlan says with a wink.
Later, once the “traditions” are officially over, I’ve changed back into my own clothes, and everyone is relaxing in the drawing room with a glass of McGregor whisky, Lachlan pulls me aside.
“If you make my cousin cry, I’ll turn you into a living kilt,” he says, his tone suddenly serious.
Then, softer, “But I don’t think you will. You look at her like she’s your own Highland treasure.”
His words unsettle me more than I care to admit.
The evening ends with a toast from Lachlan:
“To our new McKenzie specimen—who turns out to be slightly less terrible than expected!”
Everyone laughs, and even Callum seems less cold toward me.
Before I leave, I find a moment alone with Keira.
“So, what’s the verdict on my family of lunatics?” she asks with a smile.
I take a second to answer.
“They’re loud, intrusive, and completely unreasonable.”
Her laugh—spontaneous and genuine—is probably the best thing I’ve heard all day.
On the drive home, I replay the day in my mind. The McGregors, whom I always saw as nothing more than rivals, revealed themselves to be complex, even warm in their own chaotic way. Lachlan, whom I expected to despise, might well become an ally—maybe even a friend.
And Keira…
Keira is no longer just the McGregor I have a business arrangement with.
She’s become something more.
As I pull into my driveway, I catch myself smiling at the thought of her.
A McKenzie smiling because of a McGregor.
The world has definitely gone mad.
CHAPITRE 16
KEIRA
The delicate art of not falling in love with your fake fiancé
