Chapter 6 - The Replacement

Callum had spent the morning being punished for a decision he would make again.

That was inconvenient. It was not confusing.

By noon, the Campbell-linked negotiations had been moved out of his control, two board members had requested written assurances about the family dispute, and Sinclair Group communications had produced six versions of a statement that said almost nothing.

Eilidh, meanwhile, was still not marrying Lachlan.

Callum had spoken to her once after the hotel meeting. She was safe, she had arranged somewhere private to stay, and she had no intention of reversing herself.

He had not asked her to.

That should have settled the personal part of the crisis.

It had not settled anything else.

Alistair summoned him to the Sinclair townhouse shortly after four. Malcolm Campbell was already in the library when Callum arrived.

So was Iona Campbell.

Callum stopped just inside the door.

Iona sat in an armchair near the fire, one ankle crossed over the other, composed enough to make the scene more alarming rather than less. She was Malcolm's daughter, Lachlan's sister, and one of the few Campbells who had said nothing publicly since the wedding collapsed.

She looked at Callum and sighed.

"If that expression is for me, save it."

"It wasn't," Callum said.

"Good."

Malcolm did not invite him to sit.

Alistair did. "Callum."

He took the chair opposite his father.

For a moment, nobody mentioned marriage.

Malcolm began with business instead. He listed the joint interests now stalled, the private commitments thrown into doubt, and the damage done to a relationship both families had spent years treating as dependable.

Callum listened.

None of it was invented. That was the problem.

"The original alliance is finished," Malcolm said at last.

"Eilidh made that clear."

Malcolm's mouth tightened. "Your sister made many things clear."

Callum ignored the bait.

Alistair leaned back. "The question is what replaces it."

Callum looked from his father to Malcolm, then to Iona.

She did not look away.

"No," he said.

Malcolm gave a humorless laugh. "I haven't proposed anything."

"You brought Iona."

"I came because my father asked me to hear the conversation," she said. Her voice was cool, not embarrassed. "Not because anyone has promised me to you."

Good.

At least one person in the room understood the century.

Alistair folded his hands. "No one is promising anyone. We are discussing whether a different family match could restore confidence quickly enough to prevent wider damage."

Callum stared at him.

"Between me and Iona."

"Yes."

The answer was too calm.

He turned to Iona. "And you're willing to discuss this?"

"I'm willing to hear terms before I reject something on principle."

There was no flirtation in it. No softness. She might have been considering a merger with unusually personal paperwork.

Malcolm spoke. "Iona understands duty."

Callum's attention snapped back to him.

"Don't use your daughter to make a point about my sister."

Iona's eyebrows rose. "I can survive the comparison."

"I'm sure you can."

Alistair cut in. "The point is not Eilidh. The point is continuity."

"It became Eilidh the moment everyone built continuity around her wedding."

"And when that wedding failed," Alistair said, "the burden did not disappear."

Callum stood.

"I'll replace the commercial guarantees."

Malcolm's expression sharpened. "With what?"

"Sinclair underwriting on the affected transactions. Revised voting protections where necessary. If the concern is exposure, I'll reduce it," Callum said.

"You think this is only capital."

"I think capital is easier to repair than a marriage."

Malcolm stood too. "The alliance was never only capital."

"No. It was trust, access, continuity, and the expectation that when the Sinclair family gave its word, the Campbell family could build around it."

"Eilidh did not give you ownership of her future when our fathers made plans," Callum said.

"No one said ownership."

"You don't have to."

Alistair's voice hardened. "Enough."

Callum looked at his father.

"Give me forty-eight hours. I'll bring you a commercial structure that removes the need for a family match."

"You can't replace social confidence with a term sheet," Alistair said.

"I can replace financial dependency."

"And Malcolm can still walk."

Malcolm said nothing.

That was answer enough.

Callum turned to him. "Would you?"

"If the Sinclairs treat this as a broken contract that can be paid off, yes."

"The contract was between people who no longer consent to it," Callum said.

"The consequences are between families who still exist."

Iona rose then, smoothing one hand over the front of her trousers.

"For what it's worth, I don't consider a strategic marriage inherently offensive."

She shrugged. "If I wanted the man, respected the terms, and believed the arrangement served a life I chose, I could consider it. That doesn't mean I intend to volunteer because Lachlan was left at an altar."

Malcolm's jaw tightened.

Callum almost smiled.

Almost.

"Thank you," he said.

"Don't thank me yet. My answer isn't the problem."

She looked toward Alistair.

"His is."

Silence followed.

Alistair did not deny it.

The match did not require Iona to be coerced to remain dangerous. It only required everyone around Callum to believe marriage was the fastest way to stabilize what Eilidh's refusal had disrupted.

He had spent twenty-four hours defending his sister's right to say no.

Now the same machinery had rotated one seat.

Toward him.

Callum walked to the window.

Below, Charlotte Square moved through an ordinary Edinburgh afternoon. Cars passed. A courier coasted to the curb. Somewhere beyond the glass, people were making decisions nobody would convert into family infrastructure.

He could refuse.

Of course he could.

But refusal did not erase the pressure. It shifted cost through the Group, through family holdings, through alliances his father still had enough authority to control.

He needed an alternative the Campbells could not dismiss as a financial patch and Alistair could not treat as a delay.

Something public.

Something personal enough to replace the marriage narrative before they built another one around him.

His mind supplied an answer before he wanted it.

Ailsa Fraser.

Callum closed his eyes.

Of course.

The woman who had detonated the first arrangement by making Eilidh's exit materially possible was also the only woman whose presence beside him would make a radically different story believable.

Not Iona.

Not another alliance daughter.

Ailsa.

The irony was offensive.

It was also useful.

He turned from the window.

"I won't marry Iona."

Malcolm's face hardened.

Iona only nodded, as if he had finally caught up.

Alistair said, "Then bring me something better."

Callum picked up his coat.

"I will."

He left before his father could ask what.

Twenty minutes later, he was in the back of a car heading toward Exit.

The wedding crisis had begun because Ailsa Fraser had helped his sister leave.

Now it had placed him in the same position everyone had insisted was reasonable when it belonged to someone else.

He was not going to accept it.

And he was done pretending Ailsa had nothing to do with the problem.

By the time he reached Exit, the receptionist recognized him.

Ailsa appeared in the corridor behind her, took one look at his face, and stopped.

"What happened?"

Callum crossed the room.

He had no intention of explaining this politely.

"You're getting me out of this position."