Page 32 of The Scottish Island Wedding

Now that things were getting difficult, she’d seen that Matty chose to step back from the problem rather than face it with her. She’d considered what it meant to marry someone: to accept their faults and love them anyway.

Heather had always trusted her instincts, which was partly why she’d said yes after Matty had proposed so quickly. It felt right with Matty, and Heather’s instincts had never been wrong, when she listened to them properly.

Now, she had a choice, and it was about trust. She trusted Matty. However, what was more important was that she trusted her own heart, and knew that whatever happened, she would take care of it.

Could Heather trust herself to make the very big decision of whether to marry Matty Campbell, or not?

FOURTEEN

When Heather returned to the castle with Annie, they found Matty with her uncle James in the billiard room. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg was in the air; Heather noticed a tray with several mugs on one of the engraved oak side tables, featuring a large pot of what she guessed was spiced hot chocolate.

A fire burned merrily in the large fireplace: even the billiard room hadn’t been excluded from Aunt Evelinda’s decorative touch. The hearth was hung with a number of Christmas stockings, embroidered with the names of the grounds staff at the castle. Clusters of bright red poinsettias in forest green pots had been added to every available surface.

Before she and Annie had got back in the car, Heather checked the sisters’ group chat. She saw that Violet had posted a picture to the article about Aunt Chrissie.

Violet: @everyone I’m really proud of Auntie, even though the press seems to be clutching its pearls about the pics. I’m with her now. She’s OK.

Blossom: @Violet I’m coming up to hug her

Bluebell: @Violet @Blossom Me too. Poor Auntie

Heather tapped out a reply.

@everyone Popped out with Matty’s sister Annie for a bit. On way back now. Please tell Auntie I love her and that she is a LEGEND and the newspapers can do one; Mum says please give her a hug from her. I’ll come up and see Aunt Chrissie soon.

Bluebell: @Heather Absolutely

‘Ah, the adventurer returns!’ Heather’s uncle greeted her warmly as they walked in. ‘And this must be Annie Campbell? I’ve heard a lot about you from your father.’ Uncle James approached them and shook Annie’s hand.

‘Have you?’ She looked surprised. ‘Lovely to meet you, too, Laird Balhennie.’

‘Oh, James, please.’ He leaned on his billiard cue. ‘Oh, yes. Well, of course, as soon as Arthur got here, we realised we’ve been friends for many years. Socially, you know, here and there. It was just that Evelinda and I had no idea that Heather was marrying into the Campbells of Glenorchy. It was all rather secretive between the lovebirds,’ he chuckled.

Heather stood to one side, shyly; Matty stood awkwardly by the billiard table as James and Annie greeted each other. She’d texted him when she and Annie had pulled in to the castle, and he’d told her where he was. Yet now that they saw each other, Heather felt awkward. The romantic part of her nature wanted to rush into Matty’s arms. The part of her that was becoming used to standing in her truth demurred.

‘Oh, I see.’ Annie nodded. ‘I guess I don’t really get involved with the social side of things any more.’

‘No, indeed. You have your own life, Arthur tells me, on the canal boat? Such a wonderful way to live. I myself had a couple of canal boat holidays when I was a boy, near Falkirk. I know he’s terribly proud of you.’ James smiled kindly.

‘Is he?’ Annie looked flabbergasted.

‘Oh, yes. Arthur always talks about you when I see him at the club in Edinburgh. He thinks you’re rather daring. And remember, noble families are well used to nonconformists, artists and bohemians. Look at Lord Byron. Edith Sitwell. Vita Sackville-West.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘I believe your father’s aunt lived on her own terms.’

‘Yes. Great-aunt Emma. She was a painter. She ran away to Paris and lived there most of her life.’

‘There you are, then. Yes. Aunt Emma. Arthur holds her in high regard. You should speak to your father about her.’ James looked thoughtful. ‘And that’s something else you and Heather have in common, then. Unconventional great-aunts.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Heather, is your aunt Chrissie feeling all right? I can imagine she would be rather upset about that newspaper article. I assume you know. I saw it this morning, but Chrissie hasn’t come down, and I don’t like to bother her if she’s feeling embarrassed about it.’

‘Vi and some of the others are with her. Vi says she’s okay.’ Heather shrugged. ‘I mean, she’s a sensitive soul, but she’s tough.’

‘Hm. Like all the Balhennie women,’ James chuckled. ‘I always think that my sister Frances should have had the lairdship. But, of course, we had the old-fashioned patriarchal rules when I inherited it. And then, there’s the question of who inherits the lairdship now.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘It would have to be one of you girls. Women, I should say. My sister doesn’t have any children, and neither do I.’

‘Oh. I’d never thought of that,’ Heather confessed. ‘You know that Dad believes the castle should be on our side of the family.’

‘Yes. I know that.’ James sighed. ‘He’s interpreting history rather liberally, in my view, but there is an argument for it.’

‘Is there?’ Heather was genuinely surprised. ‘I always thought… I mean, I think all of us always thought that Dad had just made up some kind of Balhennie lore of his own.’

‘Oh, no. He’s right that his direct ancestors were the lairds, until about a hundred and twenty years ago.’ James looked serious. ‘The lands were gifted to us by Elizabeth the First, and that was to Laird Andrew Balhennie. Andrew was your dad’s great-great-great… You know. Many-times great-grandfather,’ James said.