Page 3 of The Scottish Island Wedding

‘Next weekend. The 19th, I think.’

‘Good, good. The day of the Christmas party! That’s great. We’re excited tae meet them. James has the rooms ready at the castle, though they’d have been welcome here. We can still put them up, nae bother, if they want. Nicer here, honestly. That auld place is full o’ mice.’

The Balhennie Inn typically held a Christmas party for all of their friends and family in the festive period. Angus always dressed up as Father Christmas and made Catriona be Mrs Claus, even though she complained every year that the costume made her look frumpy. Angus always dismissed the notion that Catriona could ever look anything less than devastatingly gorgeous.

‘Dad. The castle’s lovely. And it was very nice of Uncle James to offer to accommodate Matty’s family for the wedding.’

Heather knew that her father had a long-standing rivalry with his cousin, the laird, James Balhennie. According to Angus, generations ago, the ownership of the castle had been unlawfully stolen by James’s side of the family, and he, Angus Balhennie, should be the laird.

‘Aye, I suppose so,’ Angus grumbled. ‘Dinnae ken why the in-laws aren’t hangin’ oot wi’ us, though. Get to know each other. Have a few drinks. Better breakfasts here.’ He sniffed.

‘We’ll have plenty of time to get to know the Campbells, Dad.’ Heather placated her father, wishing that she felt as confident as she sounded.

‘Aye. I suppose so. Matt, I was wonderin’ what part o’ the Campbell clan you were from,’ Angus said. ‘I know I asked before, an’ I dinnae think we ever got around tae lookin’ at it. But I’ve known a fair few Campbells over the years. I might know your parents – you never know, eh!’ he chuckled.

‘Oh, right. Yeah. We’ll have to sit down and look at it,’ Matty said vaguely. ‘You know, my head’s really sore. Maybe I do need to rest up.’ He put down his coffee.

‘Do you want me to go with you?’ Heather asked, feeling a little anxious.

‘No, you stay here with your dad.’ Matty picked up his phone, put it in his pocket and squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you later, okay? Good to see you, Mr Bal… I mean, Angus.’

‘Nae bother, Matt. See you later, eh?’ Angus nodded. ‘Feel better soon.’

‘Yeah. See you, then.’

Heather watched him go with a feeling of unease curling in her belly like an eel.

‘Everythin’ okay, sweetheart?’ Angus asked his daughter. ‘You look a bit oot o’ sorts.’

‘It’s just wedding stress, Dad. I’m fine,’ Heather said, giving her father a bright smile. But the truth was that she was worried. She’d heard stories about men who got calls in the middle of the night, and men who didn’t let their partners look at their phones, and the story was always the same. They were cheating.

What if there was someone else? What if Matty was cheating on her? She hadn’t known him that long. It was conceivable, even though Heather felt very strongly that Matty wasn’t seeing someone else.

Why would he do such a thing, and right before their wedding, too? It made no sense.

But there was definitely something up, and Matty refused to talk to her. In the vacuum of information, Heather’s imagination was running riot. What if Matty just didn’t want to marry her any more?

TWO

The Legend of the Lover’s Leap, found in Heather Balhennie’s copy of Scottish Mythical History

Huntingtower Castle, like many castles, has a past full of daring deeds and drama. Today, the castle looks like a single building, but it originally consisted of two fine tower houses which stood about three metres apart.

It’s said that centuries ago, Dorothea, the daughter of the Earl of Gowrie, fell in love with a servant in the castle. One night, she tiptoed out of her bed in one of the two buildings for a clandestine tryst in the adjacent tower, where the servants slept.

Dorothea’s canny mother suspected that something was going on and made her way to the servants’ room. When Dorothea heard her mother’s footsteps coming up the stairs, she had to get back to her room quickly. There was only one escape route available…

Desperate Dorothea found her way onto the roof and successfully made a jump of around two and a half metres between the two towers. Her suspicious mother, having to go back the long way, found her moments later, safely tucked up in her own bed.

It’s said that Dorothea and her lover eloped and were married the very next day, living happily ever after. The gap between a battlement and nearby tower is still known as the ‘Maiden’s Leap’ or the ‘Lover’s Leap’ in castle parlance, named after Dorothea’s daring bravery.

Heather had always loved myths and fairy tales. Growing up in Scotland, she and her sisters were almost unable to escape their mythical heritage, such as the tales Angus would tell them in winter about the Cailleach Beira, the Scottish hag goddess who was known as the Queen of Winter. Angus would tell them stories about how the Beira made all the mountains in Scotland when she strode across the land and accidentally dropped rocks from her wicker basket.

But, of all the stories that she had heard in her life and all the myths that were woven through the fabric of her Celtic heritage, it was the romance stories that always warmed Heather’s heart; it was the stories of fated lovers and love at first sight that she held dear.

The story of the Lover’s Leap had always been one of her favourites. For so many nights, after reading the story, Heather had stared at her ceiling, imagining being Dorothea. Imagining having fallen in love with a mysterious visitor to her father’s castle, and being so desperate to see him, to kiss him and dissolve into the bliss of their fated union, that she had jumped between the towers, heedless of the danger.

The other Balhennie sisters had always eye-rolled Heather and her obsession with love stories and for her generally romantic nature: she believed wholeheartedly in happy ever afters, sunset walks by the loch, flowers and chocolates. Even as a child, Heather had played weddings with her dolls, even though some of her sisters, particularly Primrose and Violet, had never wanted to play, and if they had, would ruin the wedding by making their dolls run away, threaten to cut their hair or colour in their faces blue so that they could be warriors instead. Nevertheless, Heather persisted. She didn’t need anyone’s permission to believe in love and romance.