Beresford's Bride

by Way, Margaret

  “You stand out like a star yourself.” He raised his glass to her, savouring her beauty, the swan’s neck, its purity revealed by the unfamiliar hairstyle.

  “Thank you, Byrne,” she said simply.

  “Great hair, great face. Great body. Long legs. A mind of your own.”

  “You don’t think there’s a danger in that?” she asked.

  He looked at her. “Not in the least. I like women with their own voice.”

  “Maybe I should get involved in politics,” she suggested.

  “My mother is a strong force in the country women’s movements,” he answered as though suddenly considering it.

  “Then you would expect that in your wife?”

  Another pause. “Yes, I would.”

  “What else would you like?” She turned to him, the light a nimbus around her silver gilt hair and creamy face.

  “Let’s see.” He stood looking at her. “A woman who could run on her own efficiency. A woman I could absolutely trust. A woman I’d be lost without. A woman with the sweetest smile. The softest mouth. Tender, loving, concerned. A woman who wants children. Our children.”

  “You I want a lot.” There was the faintest tremble in her voice.

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Marriage has to be the biggest decision in life.”

  “Lord, you should tell that to my mother.” She sighed heavily.

  “You’re someone else entirely, Antoinette.”

  It was a comment she took to her heart. Hands on the timber railings, she looked at the stars. “In the Dreaming, long ago, Meeka the Moon was married to Ngangaru the Sun. They lived in a cave with their children. In time they became the stars.”

  “The starry floor of heaven,” he quoted. “There’s not a star in the sky that doesn’t have an aboriginal myth to account for its origins. The constellation Scorpio up there was originally two lovers who broke tribal law.”

  “Oh, Byrne, look, a falling star!” She put out her hand, caught his sleeve, heart leaping.

  “All the brighter in the falling. You’d better make a wish.”

  Let him love me. She never gave it a conscious thought. It came spontaneously from deep within her.

  “Tell me,” he urged, watching her dreamy expression.

  “I can’t. It mightn’t come true.” She turned to smile at him, sweet enchantment. He almost pulled her into his arms, feeling the responsive stirring of his body. He wanted to close his hands over those delicately boned shoulders, bring his mouth down hard over hers, explore its soft siren shape. He wanted to caress her small, high breasts. Lift her. Carry her away. He felt his control begin a headlong slide. How had she done it? In its way it was like ceding command, and he wasn’t a person who could easily accommodate such an upheaval in his life. Love, yes. But this fierce, demanding necessity of heart and flesh? It smacked of obsession.

  Deliberately he faced the garden, looking out over the kingdom that was Castle Hill. “Have you thought any more about what you intend to do?” He knew his tone was crisp, almost businesslike. A far cry from the intensity of a few minutes before.

  She was instantly aware of his withdrawal. She was engaged in trying to stem the violent inrushes of sensation. “Not really. I’ve touched only briefly on my affairs with Kerry.”

  “You mean about selling your share of Nowra?”

  She took a cooling sip of champagne, set it down. “You’re moving too quickly, Byrne, even for you.”

  “I’m only trying to help.”

  “Cate and Kerry. Not me.”

  “Why would you say that?” He barely trusted himself to look into her beautiful eyes.

  “Cate is your sister. It’s only natural you’d want to see her mistress of her own home.”

  “Of course, but you have no intention of living there. You said so yourself.”

  For an instant he thought she wouldn’t reply.

  “I don’t want to give up all that’s left of my father,” she said finally.

  That hit him forcibly. Didn’t he still crave his father’s company, his advice, their long discussions, their shared vision? “I can understand that, Antoinette.”

  “Can you?” She turned to him. “Then why are you so hard?”

  “God knows!” He shrugged. He shouldn’t start this, but this girl, this woman was having such an effect on him, he didn’t doubt for a moment she would change his life radically. “Having you here has stirred up a lot of emotion,” he said. “Brought back a lot of memories.”

  “How my father died?” she asked, her eyes clouding.

  It wasn’t quite what he meant. “None of us is going to forget that, Toni. I was the one who flew him to Base Hospital. I was the one who acted too late.”

  His words stunned her. “How could you possibly blame yourself?”

  He spoke somberly but with pent-up emotion. “I know it’s not quite rational, but I do. He’d told me how he gashed himself, on the two-way radio. I warned him about keeping up his tetanus shots. I should have taken the helicopter over.”

  The tension in her throat made it hard for her to swallow. “I didn’t know you were carrying all this trauma, Byrne.”

  “Antoinette, there’s a lot you don’t know.” Once again harshness crept into his voice. What was it he was trying to do? He didn’t understand it. She wasn’t responsible for anything that had happened.

  “I’m sorry.” She turned away swiftly, hiding sudden tears.

  “Don’t.” He caught her hand, feeling the blaze of treacherous desire, hot, sweet, fierce. He was losing his head over this girl. “I keep forgetting how young you are.”

  Her fine, small hand was trembling. “Young in years, maybe, but I’ve learned what life is all about.”

  “It’s insane for us to fight,” he said.

  “I think we’re going to do a lot of it.”

  “No, you’re overreacting.” His warm grip tightened.

  “I don’t think so.” She felt a little desperate under the weight of emotion. “I can see how you might think I threaten this happy time for Cate.”

  “Toni.” Flat denial was in his voice. “All I’ve asked you to do is not encourage Joel. You can see he’s enormously susceptible.”

  “And obviously you can just trust me. You’re awfully rough on me, Byrne.”

  “Toni, don’t rush away.”

  She felt his hand on her arm, long-fingered, warm, strong. “Please let me go.”

  “I can’t do that.” God, it was true. For a moment, caught in a desperate hunger, he couldn’t release her. He was moving her into his arms. No force, but most compellingly. For all her high talk she didn’t seem to be resisting. It was happening so fast. It was emotion ignited like a flame in dry grass, revealing the secret shadowy places of the heart.

  Only a woman was watching them from the French doors, her body silhouetted against the brilliant lights that spilled from the ballroom, her smooth cap of hair a flaming burgundy.

  “Byrne, I was wondering where you’d got to.” Andrea did a wonderful job of keeping her tone light.

  Laughter and music came to them on a sudden wave of sound. Odd, he thought, when only a few minutes before they might have been enclosed in a capsule full of silence and intense emotion. “Taking a breath of fresh air, Andrea. Want to try it?” he asked dryly.

  “It’s wonderful out here.” Andrea sounded bright when inside she was pierced by jealousy. Like mother, like daughter, she thought. This Toni Streeton was taking everything from her, the party, her friends, her man.

  “If you’ll both excuse me...” Toni tried to make her escape. Her heart pounded in her breast, her whole body made aware of its urgent hungers.

  Andrea nodded her approval. “Yes, the others are feeling quite deserted.”

  “Others?” Toni paused, keenly aware of Andrea’s jealousy.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t say this, but there’s Joel. He seems to have forgotten he’s already taken.” It was said in the most playful way possible, but Toni felt
the sting.

  “We’ve never heard that from him, Andrea.” Byrne intervened, sounding so nearly curt Andrea’s smile faltered.

  “But surely they’re very serious?”

  “Fem may be serious,” he corrected. “Joel’s not quite managing it.”

  Toni left them to it She walked quickly inside, relieved beyond words when the first person she saw was her brother.

  Happy himself, Kerry took seconds to absorb his sister’s expression. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing.” Toni wasn’t about to spoil his evening.

  Kerry gazed past her to the terrace. “Don’t tell me Andrea said something to you? I saw her go out looking for Byme. He was with you?”

  “Yes,” Toni answered as calmly as she could. “We went out in search of air.”

  “Lordy, Lordy, she’s mad about him, you know.”

  “I realise that, Kerry,” Toni said with faint acerbity. “One would have to be blind and deaf to miss it.”

  “So what did she say?” Kerry stared at her.

  “I’d just as soon drop this,” Toni said firmly. “I don’t want to mar this happy occasion.”

  Kerry reached for her hand, squeezed it. “Don’t worry, we’ll be going home tomorrow. It’s the wedding that’s thrown everybody. It’s an emotional time. The magic is there, but a lot of tension, as well.”

  “I’m so glad you found Cate.” Toni looked at her brother earnestly.

  “She’s the only girl I’ve ever wanted.” Kerry smiled. “No one knows me better, outside my sister. I don’t want you to go away, Toni. I don’t want to lose you, ever.”

  Most of the guests left the following morning, except Andrea and the Beresford cousins, who took themselves off to the pool to relax. Toni, who had been thinking of riding, abandoned the idea when Sonia suggested she might like to try on her bridesmaid gown.

  “Just to be sure it’s not in need of some small alteration, dear.”

  “First you have to see my magical dress.” Cate smiled radiantly. She put out her hand to touch her mother’s cheek. “It made Mummy cry.”

  “Because you’re so beautiful in it, my darling, my only daughter. Go with Cate, Toni. I have a few things to attend to here, then I’ll be up. Use my room so you can have a good look at yourself, Toni. There’s a wall of mirrors.”

  They were walking up the staircase when Kerry came in. “Ah, there you are, my favourite girls. Feel like taking a ride?”

  “In maybe fifteen minutes,” Cate replied. “I want to show Toni my wedding dress first.”

  “So let’s make that an hour,” Kerry drawled laconically.

  “No, fifteen minutes will be fine. Hang on,” Cate corrected herself. “Toni has to try her dress, as well.”

  “That’s okay. You two go ahead,” Toni said. “Which direction are you riding? I’ll catch up.”

  “It’s a perfect day.” Kerry smiled. “Why not the Five Mile?”

  “Fine.”

  Cate’s bedroom, which had a fine view of Castle Hill, was decorated in apple green and white with an array of Victorian botanical watercolours adorning the walls. There was a sofa and two deep armchairs, a small circular table, a very pretty antique dressing table near the door and a tall bookcase painted white filled with dozens of books and here and there charming ornaments. A lovely large room for the daughter of the house. “The dresses are in here,” Cate said, making for the adjoining dressing room. “When we’ve finished with them they’ll go back to the attic. We’ve had them hanging up there swathed in muslin. Sit down, Toni and I’ll show you my fantasy.”

  When she returned she was carrying an exquisite bridal gown in lustrous, luminous magnolia duchesse satin.

  “Cate, how beautiful!” Toni stood up, her face wearing an expression of absolute delight.

  “I knew you’d think so.”

  Toni touched a reverent hand to the full, billowing skirt. It sprang from the fitted bodice, satin roses forming the heart-shaped strapless neckline. The bust was decorated with exquisite champagne lace, hand-beaded with crystals and hung with drop pearls.

  “There’s a lovely headpiece to go with it,” Cate said excitedly. “A coronet of satin roses with a short full veil.”

  “You’ll take Kerry’s breath away when he sees you.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping for.” Cate smiled. “You know we’re having a swan theme?”

  “Yes. Joel told me.”

  “Swans mate forever,” Cate said dreamily. “That’s what our marriage is going to be.”

  “That’s my wish for you.” Impulsively Toni leaned forward and kissed Cate’s cheek.

  “You deserve a good life, Toni,” Cate said, her eyes sparkling with a few happy tears. “It hasn’t been easy for you.”

  “I’ve had my moments, Cate.”

  Cate’s voice was soft. “Don’t go away, Toni. Don’t go back.”

  “I can’t move in with you guys.” Toni laughed, touched by the fact Cate wanted her.

  “Toni, it’s half your house,” Cate said simply. “The last thing I would ever do is chase you away. You’re very important to us. Kerry missed you terribly.”

  Toni flushed and turned away. “Yet he sounded very remote whenever I called. Many of my letters he didn’t answer. I really thought I’d lost him, Cate.”

  “Kerry suffers in silence,” Cate replied. “He’s got a lot locked away inside him.”

  “Not many of us haven’t. I’m very grateful to you, Cate, for the way you’ve eased his pain.”

  “Now we’re getting too serious,” Cate tried a smile. “You want to try on your dress.”

  In her bedroom, Toni stood looking at the beautiful bridesmaid gown as it swayed on its hanger. Like Cate’s dress, the fabric was rich delustered duchesse satin, the colour an exquisite, indescribable blue-violet. The dress was strapless, but for the ceremony there was a little guipure bolero that left the shoulders bare and fitted snugly to just below the bust The bodice was beautifully boned. She wouldn’t need a bra. With a sense of pleasure, Toni removed the yellow cotton dress she had worn for breakfast, standing briefly in her panties before she stepped into the lovely gown. The skirt billowed out from a dropped waist that met at a point centre front. The colour, the cut, the rich, gleaming fabric were everything. She moved to the antique pier glass on its mahogany stand. She could see most of herself. Not the wide view, and the bedroom lighting was rather soft. She reached for the lace bolero, put it on, admiring the way the lace was cut to frame her bare shoulders. There were satin pumps, dyed to match the fabric to create a total look. It was a gorgeous dress, marvellously flattering. It would be nice to have a really good look at herself under stronger lights. Sonia had offered.

  Outside Sonia’s room she knocked on the door, waited, and when there was no answer turned the knob and glided in. One didn’t simply walk in a gown like this. Sonia had a suite with a sitting room on one side and a dressing room and bathroom on the other. The dressing room was large, with plenty of room to stand back and survey herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirrored wall.

  She turned on the bright interior lights, watching their brilliance bring her beautiful gown to full, glowing life. For a split second she didn’t recognise herself. In that sea of colour, her long hair shimmered as though it was stranded with sequins, a mix of silver and gold. There was a flush of excitement over her cheekbones, and her eyes glittered, gemlike, their colour intensified by the rich sheen of the satin. What magic a beautiful, romantic gown could weave. She leaned forward to stare at herself, even breathed on the glass to make sure she was real. Turning slowly as if in some courtly dance, Toni gathered her hair this way and that, wondering how it would best suit her floral headdress—falling loose, on top of her head, a coil low on the nape. Beautiful as her bridesmaid dress undoubtedly was, how much more wonderful would it be to stand in her own wedding dress, dreaming of the moment when she would look into the face of the man she loved with all her heart. The man who was part of the very fabric of her
life.

  As the thought spun through her mind, an image flashed, was caught, suspended in time.

  She saw a face, lost herself in a pair of silver gray eyes. His ebony head was bent over hers, his wonderful mouth, so clean cut yet so sensuous, seeking to find hers. Anticipation was so palpable she gave a little gasping breath, then in the next second laughed at herself for being such a fool. She had to acknowledge she was in a very vulnerable state of mind, and all in the space of a handful of days. What was it? A predestined decree of fate?

  Humorously, Toni returned to studying her reflection. The waist of the tight-fitting bodice was tiny, a seeming hand span against the billowing fullness of the skirt. The little lace bolero looked lovely, but she took it off, laying it gently over the back of a gilt chair. Without it the dress became a strapless ball gown, beautifully cut. incredibly glamorous. She could wear it over and over, which was the whole idea. Perhaps have the bodice hand sewn with crystals. Francine was marvellous at beading.

  It took her a moment to realise someone had come into the adjoining bedroom. Sonia, probably, come to see how she looked. Shaking her hair free, one hand gathering up her billowing skirt, Toni moved to the bedroom, her heart leaping when not Sonia’s but Byrne’s voice suddenly called.

  “Where the devil are you, Mamma?” His tone was affectionate, casual, with the faintest hint of impatience. “I’ve just remembered we haven’t—”

  He was brought up with a tremendous jolt as once again she stole his breath.

  “Byrne!” She seemed to be trembling, swaying like a lotus lily on its stalk.

  “I’m sorry. I was looking for Sonia.” He forced himself to speak lightly, but it passed beyond that to a kind of curtness. Better safe than sorry, he consoled himself. For both of us.

  “She said she had a few things to attend to.” Toni drew a long breath, dizzied by the expression in his brilliant eyes. “I was just trying on my bridesmaid gown.”