A Flight of Fancy (Scottish Island Escapes Book 6)

by Margaret Amatt

  The photographer bustled around, barely noticeable but present, clicking shots here and there. Magnus pulled his knees together. Normally, he didn’t sit like that but the photographer didn’t seem too scrupulous about where he was shooting.

  ‘Today we will witness the marriage of Robyn and Carl,’ said the officiant. ‘In the manner traditional to the celts of Scotland a handfasting ritual will take place…’

  Magnus wanted to find Taylor in the crowd again but he didn’t dare. He trained his focus on his youngest brother. If he saw Taylor now, he would imagine her dressed like Robyn, holding out her hands for him. The vision hit him so hard, he blinked and shuffled in his seat. What am I thinking? How could he even consider marrying Skylar Rousse? Movie stars didn’t marry pilots and settle down. Christ, his commitment issues were nothing compared to hers. She’d demand so many prenups, she’d probably find someone else in the time it took Magnus to sign them. But none of that fit with Taylor. This alter-ego she’d created was so damned convincing. He’d fallen hook, line and sinker. He was ready to drop to his knees and tell her he loved her. Loved her so bloody much she consumed every piece of his soul.

  Inside the thick wool socks which covered his shins almost to his knees, his sgian-dubh, pressed against his leg. That little dagger he’d named his ski-ing-do ever since childhood could end all this heartache. He could be a proper little Romeo and cast himself on it. He stifled a dry laugh. Madness! Utter madness. He had to get a grip and reroute his brain onto the path of normality. When Taylor had joked the other day about no one ever beating him, had she known this was a game she could win at? Was she waiting for him to confess his love so she could slap him down with her winner’s hat on?

  His gaze lifted and roamed across the hats, hairstyles and bald heads until it settled on her. A tingle in his shoulders told him she’d been watching him for some time. Her lips curled up and she winked. He maintained eye contact but gave nothing back. How had she conquered him this well? The woman he’d kissed on that balcony in Hollywood five years ago was so far removed from Taylor, it seemed impossible it was the same person. Maybe before he made crazy declarations, he should carry out a thorough investigation. Even Google would serve. He hadn’t cared enough to keep track of Skylar’s life but perhaps he should check it out. Maybe she was mentally unstable. Perhaps she’d run because she’d been incarcerated for her own safety. But it all seemed too ridiculous. His heart and his gut told him her feelings were real, even if the situation was fake.

  A new voice spoke, and he snapped his attention to the lectern. The officiant had moved aside and the bridesmaid with the blonde bobbed hair had taken her place. Magnus scratched his lower lip with his teeth, trying to recall her name. She was a friend of Carl’s but Magnus had never really known her. He’d lost touch with the comings and goings on Mull, though at times he missed it more than anywhere in the world.

  ‘This poem was written by my fiancé, Archie Crichton-Leith, for the bride and groom,’ said the bridesmaid. Her voice was light and chirpy. Magnus made a concerted effort to focus but it was no use. Taylor, Skylar. Skylar, Taylor. Whichever way he swung it, all he could think about was Taylor and the absurdity of what they were doing. Why had he allowed it? And worse, joined in, enjoyed it? Let himself go.

  ‘Thank you, Georgia,’ said the humanist, and the bridesmaid returned to her seat. ‘A beautifully written poem. And now for the handfasting.’

  Magnus snapped back to Taylor but this time she had craned her neck to get a better view of what was going on. The officiant spoke to Robyn and Carl, explaining the ancient ritual before holding up two lengths of boat rope. Magnus smirked; it was so them. If he married Skylar, would she want this? Perhaps to be bound to him with a pink feather boa or glitter string. But there he was getting ahead of himself again.

  Robyn smiled gently as the humanist wrapped the cords around them, speaking gently of the bond of love. The photographer knelt in the aisle, snapping away. Once he had his fill, the cords were removed and they stood to sing. Magnus joined in softly; he had to save his voice for later and this was just a warmup.

  Jakob took the lectern next, reading a short verse before Magnus had his turn. He located the rings in his pocket without even the pretence of not being able to find them. Fenella would never forgive him. Summoning his best smile, he flipped open the boxes and presented them to the officiant. Two simple white gold bands twinkled under the lights.

  Pressing his lips together, Magnus held his breath as Robyn and Carl exchanged vows. Carl looked like he was only just holding himself together, fudging a couple of lines, as emotion threatened to overcome him. Robyn maintained her calm poise, though her tone was a little higher than usual. As she slipped the ring onto Carl’s finger, Magnus pulled his lips into a smile, mocking the little twist in his heart, marking the selfish moment that he officially became the last single brother.

  ‘You may now kiss the bride.’

  Carl sealed his lips with Robyn, and Magnus banished the negative thoughts. This day was about love and he clapped with the other guests. The music struck up, and Robyn and Carl broke apart with broad smiles.

  The officiant stepped down and held out her arms in the direction of the door. Hand in hand, Robyn and Carl exited, beaming and waving. A jaunty tune accompanied them. Magnus and Jakob waited for the bridesmaids to go before taking their places at the back.

  On his way past Taylor, Magnus flipped her a little wink, and she beamed. He needed to go somewhere quiet with her and talk. They had to sort themselves out, but in the middle of a wedding where they still had hours of photographs, speeches and the unexpected singsong to go, it didn’t seem likely to happen any time soon.

  Chapter 19

  Taylor

  The music stopped and people started talking and standing. Livvi bounced Polly on her hip as the little girl cried and waved her arms about. ‘It’s ok,’ said Livvi. ‘You’ll see Daddy in a minute.’

  ‘She’s a real daddy’s girl, isn’t she?’ said Taylor.

  ‘Definitely. I thought she might not notice him going past, but nothing goes past you, little one. Does it?’ Livvi nose rubbed Polly and she stopped crying for a moment and giggled.

  ‘He must be just out there,’ said Taylor, hoping Magnus would be too.

  ‘I’m not sure what happens now.’

  Taylor and Livvi joined the throng at the door. Everyone had congregated in the entrance hall.

  ‘Here’s Jakob,’ said Livvi, standing on tiptoes.

  Polly laugh cried. ‘Dadda.’

  He turned and made his way through the crowd.

  ‘There you are.’ He took Polly as she jumped on him excitedly.

  ‘What happens now?’ asked Livvi, linking her hand through his arm.

  ‘We’re getting some pictures outside. It’s family shots first, then Robyn and Carl are getting theirs done together.’

  Taylor hovered uncertainly.

  ‘You’re to come too,’ said Jakob.

  ‘Oh… ok.’ Taylor followed. She shouldn’t be in the family photos; that was wrong on so many levels.

  ‘Oh, that was wonderful.’ A hand landed on Taylor’s shoulder and she spun around. ‘What a beautiful service,’ said Fenella. Taylor nodded in agreement.

  Polly pulled away from Jakob, leaning to her granny.

  ‘Oh, hello, little princess. You look gorgeous,’ said Fenella, taking her. ‘But don’t mess Granny’s hair today. Aunty Taylor was so good to fix it for me.’

  Aunty? Heat prickled up Taylor’s neck. That was jumping a million steps and forgetting the pretty huge obstacle that Magnus didn’t actually know who she was.

  ‘Hey.’ Magnus waved over the crowd as they approached the door.

  In a scene that reminded Taylor of days out with Skylar, a clamour of people tried to reach Robyn and Carl. They weren’t signing autographs but were shaking hands and accepting congratulations.

  ‘Are the photos outside?’ asked Taylor, making her way to Magnus’s side.<
br />
  ‘Yup.’

  ‘It’s freezing out there.’

  ‘Bracing, darling, bracing.’

  Taylor forced a smile. ‘Listen, I shouldn’t be in the photos.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m not family.’

  Magnus put his arm around her shoulder and moved back from Jakob and Livvi. ‘You don’t have to be in the photos, but I’d like it if you were. And…’ He glanced around. ‘If you refuse, my mum will force you.’

  Taylor laughed. ‘Yes. I expect she will.’

  Maureen clapped her hands and called for order. ‘If everybody except the wedding party would please move into the lounge area. The bar is open and we’ll reconvene at five o’clock for the speeches and the meal.’

  ‘Are you doing a speech?’ asked Taylor.

  ‘Oh yes. Both Jakob and I are doing something. So is Carl, and I guarantee it’ll be like nothing you’ve ever seen before.’ Utterly intrigued, Taylor followed him into the freezing air outside.

  *

  After attempting another protest, Taylor realised Fenella wouldn’t let her sit out the photographs. Even as she smiled her biggest, most Hollywood smile, she wondered if somewhere down the line, she’d have to be airbrushed out. Her head ached as she tried to unravel all the possible connotations of what they would think once they found out her true identity.

  ‘There, that didn’t hurt,’ said Magnus. He rubbed his palms up and down her bare arms. ‘Though the cold might.’

  The photographer left with Carl and Robyn for their couple pictures and Magnus took Taylor back towards the hotel. ‘Magnus, I’m scared.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘That this is all going to go horribly wrong and I’m stuck in those photos forever.’

  ‘Hmm. I guess there’s the chance the paparazzi get their hands on them. I should have thought about that. I don’t suppose Carl wants his wedding featured in Hello magazine.’

  The entrance area was quieter. ‘Look, Magnus, I have to tell you something.’ Drumsticks were attacking Taylor’s heart like Animal from ‘The Muppets’.

  Magnus lifted his hands and clamped them to her cheeks, then leaning in he kissed her. ‘Ok,’ he whispered. ‘Tell me.’

  Taylor could hardly breathe; now was the moment but what was he expecting? Did he think she was about to say she loved him? ‘I… eh…’

  The front doors opened and Jakob came in with Livvi and Polly. ‘Magnus,’ he said, and Magnus dropped his hands from Taylor.

  ‘Yes, brother dear.’

  ‘I think we should practise our speech one last time. It could go badly wrong.’

  ‘Ok, fine. We’ll be twenty minutes or so.’

  Taylor watched him go. ‘What are they doing?’ she asked Livvi.

  ‘Wait and see, it’ll be brilliant. These guys are so talented.’

  *

  Taylor slipped off her shoes under the table and flexed her toes. Beside her, Livvi organised Polly into a highchair. The four men at the table were the bridesmaids’ partners. Robyn’s brother settled his son into a highchair next to Polly and Livvi giggled as the two toddlers gave each other the daggers before starting to laugh.

  ‘They’re doing the speeches before the meal,’ said Livvi, resuming her seat. ‘Which is a great idea, because when it’s after, everybody falls asleep.’

  In front of the large windows at one end of the room was the top table – twinkling strings of lights and delicate lanterns hung above them. Magnus and his family took their positions. Taylor sipped her champagne as an expectant murmur rippled around the room.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ called a loud voice. ‘Please, will you all rise for the bride and groom.’

  A high wail of bagpipes skirled into full glory and chairs scraped back as everyone got to their feet, clapping. Some cheers and wolf-whistles sounded through the rousing pipe music as Robyn and Carl made their way in. Two balloons popped above and confetti sprinkled down, showering them. Robyn held out her palms like she was in a rainstorm and Carl laughed. He took her hand and held it high as they made their way to the top table.

  Magnus clapped and grinned as they approached. Taylor kept him in her sight. As he pulled out his chair and sat, his expression dulled. Taylor sucked her lip, taking her own seat. When Magnus checked up again, his smile was back and he said something to Maureen, who was sitting on his left.

  The chatter died and servers came around topping up champagne glasses. Taylor put her hand over hers. She needed to stay focused for the singing later. At the top table, Magnus raised his spoon and pinged a glass with a cheeky but charming smile. Maureen cast him a bit of a dirty look as she got to her feet and put on a pair of glasses.

  Unfolding a piece of paper, she cleared her throat. ‘Thank you for coming, everyone. Of course, it’s traditional for the bride’s father to make a speech. You’ll know, however, that we sadly lost Robyn’s father. So, I hope I can do this justice.’

  Taylor’s gaze flickered around from Maureen to Robyn, to Carl, Fenella and Per, Jakob, the bridesmaids, then Magnus. He had lounged back and steepled his fingers, his chiselled jaw raised to look at Maureen, but something in his eyes gave him away; he’d zoned out. What was he thinking about? As she stared, he slowly shifted his focus to her. With a tiny lift of his eyebrow, he met her look, before flicking back to Maureen.

  ‘Robyn’s independent spirit is a force to be reckoned with,’ Maureen continued and Taylor forced herself to listen. When the speech was done, Maureen sat back down and her shoulders dropped. She turned to Magnus and whispered something to him.

  Carl stood next. Taylor jumped as a man at their table wolf-whistled. Cheers and claps followed. Carl raised his hands for quiet, his broad smile splitting his face.

  ‘On behalf of my wife and I—’

  The words were barely out when the cheering and clapping started again. Taylor shared a grin with Livvi as little Polly bashed her highchair and giggled like she agreed with everyone.

  Taylor pressed her fingers to her lips as Carl spoke. Would anyone ever say such beautiful words about her? She almost didn’t dare look at Magnus, but when she did, his focus was trained on his brother.

  ‘I’d like to finish with something a little different,’ said Carl. ‘And my brothers are going to help me out.’ He stepped back and walked along behind the table.

  Taylor furrowed her brow and a few people whispered curiously as Magnus and Jakob got to their feet. In the corner, close to a curtain, was a white piano. Magnus sat at it. Carl lifted a guitar and stood behind a microphone. Jakob also had a guitar and sat on a stool close to the piano. ‘This is a song that Robyn and I call our song. I’d like to dedicate it to Robyn, my beautiful wife.’

  Magnus opened on the piano with the introductory chords to the song, ‘You’re Beautiful’.

  Carl’s voice was mellow with a slightly rough edge but he didn’t crack or well up, unlike everyone else in the room. Rapturous applause and profuse nose-blowing followed its final note, and when Carl returned to the table, he hugged Robyn for a long moment. After the clapping died out, Magnus lifted the microphone. ‘Ok, thank you, everybody. And, Carl, that was beautiful. It’s a hard act to follow and, as the eldest brother, I don’t like to follow my little brother into anything, but in this case, I’ll make an exception. You might be wondering why Jakob and I are still over here rather than back at the table, pulling out our speech notes and making you all laugh with some witty repartee about our baby brother Carl. Well, we decided we’d shake things up a bit and instead of a stuffy speech, we’re going to give you our very own composition about Carl.’

  Carl covered his face and shook his head.

  Magnus returned to the piano and struck up a jaunty chord that reminded Taylor of Cabaret. He started to sing a funny little song and Jakob strummed along, adding asides as though correcting his brother. After the first few lines, everyone was in stitches.

  ‘They should be on the stage,’ said Taylor.

  Tears ro
lled down Livvi’s cheeks and she shook with laughter. ‘They really should.’

  As they concluded, everyone cheered and laughed. Taylor grinned at Magnus and he sent her a little wink. This was what it meant to be in his world and she didn’t ever want to leave.

  Chapter 20

  Magnus

  Sitting at the top table gave Magnus a great view of the room, but nothing caught his eye more than Taylor. He sipped his champagne, watching her laughing with Livvi and some guys at their table. She looked more like her old self with the make-up and the fancy dress. Was he insane? He’d asked her to give it a shot. Could Skylar Rousse ever date a ‘normal’ guy like him? Had her saying yes been an act? Was the whole thing part of the act? When they sailed away from the island, would she turn on him, laughing her head off? A victory smile replacing the Hollywood pout. Surely she wasn’t that good at faking it? Or was she? The glass rim touched Magnus’s lips and he held it there. Was he being played for a fool?

  After a brief recess, while the tables were moved aside to make way for the dance floor, Magnus and Taylor made their way back into the main function room with a large group including Jakob, Livvi, Polly, Fenella and Per, plus Jean, a group of cousins and various aunts and uncles. The lights were low and twinkling, casting stars around the room.

  ‘I have to dance the first dance with the head bridesmaid,’ said Magnus, rubbing Taylor’s hand between his forefinger and thumb. ‘After that, I’m all yours.’

  ‘And I suppose you’ll turn out to be Fred Astaire.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘After your little stint on the piano, you should be on the stage. A change of career is what you need.’

  ‘I told you before, that’s never going to happen,’ he said.

  ‘Did you, when?’

  ‘Five years ago.’ Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised she’d forgotten. He’d been one tiny moment in her colourful life. Funny though, how selective her brain could be. After claiming all these feelings she’d retained for him, only to forget the details.