Page 22 of The Scottish Island Wedding

‘That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,’ Heather retorted. ‘You are very elegant. Anyway, who cares what Chanel thinks?’

‘Elizabeth does. And I do.’ Clara looked downcast. ‘I hope your wedding pictures come out well. I’ve got a dress that really doesn’t have any room for error.’

Heather didn’t know how to answer that.

When they walked into the lounge, though, Heather saw someone who made her forget all of her concerns, just for a moment: her twin, Violet.

‘Twinnie!’ Violet turned as Heather walked in and opened her arms wide. Without thinking, Heather ran to her and hugged her sister tight. ‘Babe. You okay?’ Violet lowered her voice, her head against Heather’s hair.

‘I’m okay.’ Heather felt tears in her eyes, and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. ‘It’s just so good to see you. I didn’t think you were getting in until tomorrow.’

‘Got an early flight; landed in Inverness in the early hours and hired a car. Didn’t want to miss the fun.’ Violet grinned at her. ‘And, since the in-laws from hell are here, I thought you might need me.’ Heather’s twin scanned the room, looking Estella and Clara up and down with a disdainful air. ‘The Campbells of Glenorchy, if you please. How on earth did you not know about this?’

‘Don’t. It’s a whole thing,’ Heather sighed.

‘Mum said Lady Campbell’s trying to take over everything. Did you just have a press conference, by the way? Primmy said, but I didn’t believe her.’

‘That is indeed what we were just doing, yes. I could do with a coffee, or something stronger… I’m supposed to be off coffee, only matcha, but I feel like I deserve the caffeine hit.’

‘I bet. Come on, then. I can see Uncle James’s housekeeper’s made some lemon cake. I could eat the whole thing. Only stopped for a quick bite on the way.’

They made their way to the coffee and helped themselves; Violet cut herself a huge slice of cake and pushed a third of it in her mouth without even putting it on a plate. There was also a plate of large chocolate-drizzled home-made macaroons and some oat cookies. Heather reflected that James’s housekeeper Claire had never knowingly under-catered an event, and seemed to have a horror of anyone being mildly peckish.

‘Ummm. So good,’ she mumbled. She swallowed. ‘I can’t believe I missed the press conference. I mean, that’s actually what I do. I could have covered it for, I dunno. One of the women’s magazines.’

‘Vi, I really don’t want the press here at all.’ Heather lowered her voice. ‘She just invited them all here without asking anyone.’

‘Rude.’ Violet frowned. ‘Listen, though. I was thinking of doing some stuff for socials while I’m here. Maybe what I’m doing for your make-up for the big day, my own make-up and skincare for being a bridesmaid, big up the whole “being back on the island” thing.’

‘Oh. I hadn’t thought you were… Violet, I want my wedding to be… private.’ Heather was trying to be nice, but the thought of Violet publicising her wedding – even if it was just a video of her having her make-up done – was too much, right in that moment.

‘Babe, you won’t know anything about it,’ Violet assured her. She flicked her long hair over her shoulder; even though she’d spent the night on a plane and then driven to the castle from Inverness in the early hours, she still looked as fresh as a daisy.

‘Violet, please…’ Heather wanted to explain just how overwhelmed she was feeling, and that, of all people, she needed her twin sister in her corner. But before she could say anything more, she felt a hand on her arm and looked around to see one of the Campbell security personnel standing politely next to her.

‘Miss Balhennie? Would you come with me, please?’ he said, in a low voice.

‘Vi, come with me,’ Heather said, in a loaded tone. Violet grabbed another piece of cake and followed her.

Outside the room, the man handed Heather a box. It was the width of a large box of chocolates, but taller, like the sort of container you might pack cupcakes in.

‘Mr Matthew Campbell sends his regards, and hopes that you’ll find the contents pleasing,’ the man said, in an officious monotone. Heather looked curiously at Violet, who shrugged.

‘Nothing to do with me, babes,’ her twin said. ‘Come on. Let’s take it to my room.’

They climbed the stairs to the room that had been assigned to Violet for her stay: a grand room with a four-poster bed made from heavy wood, engraved with thistles and flowers. The bed linen was a dark pink, and there was a tartan blanket folded over the end of the bed. The room looked over the gardens, and it had an en-suite. Some of the bathrooms at the castle still had 1930s-style baths and sinks with the original black and white tiling on the walls and on the floor. Heather had always liked those rooms.

Heather sat down on the four-poster and opened the box. It was baby pink and tied with a white ribbon. There was a card in a white envelope: when she opened it and read the message, Heather felt a warm glow of relief mixed with love fill her chest.

Dear Heather. Thinking of you, my love, and I can’t wait to marry you. These should help you to deal with my mother while I’m away. I’m sorry I’ve been incommunicado – I’ll be home soon.

All my love,

Matty xxxxx

Inside the box was another containing a pair of top-of-the-range headphones, which also had a noise-cancelling feature; Heather lifted them out of the box and showed them to Violet, who laughed.

‘Your husband-to-be knows his mum, I guess,’ she chuckled. ‘Hey. These are really nice.’