Beresford's Bride

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“Indeed I am. Joel was only a kid when I left. We always got on, but there was no great rapport, like you and Cate.”

“The thing is, you’re all grown up now. So’s he.”

“This has nothing to do with matchmaking, has it?” she challenged him, astonished.

Kerry thought. “Something has to keep you home,” he said finally.

Toni looked at her brother directly, holding his eyes. “I’m not ready for marriage, Kerry. Much less to a Beresford.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I wouldn’t care to have to dance to Byrne’s tune,” she said, with a slight flush. “He has a lot of power and influence over his entire family.”

“So? He’s the best guy in the world, Toni. I know he can be pretty formidable at times. Believe me, he has to be, but you couldn’t ask for a better friend and supporter.

Toni shook her head ruefully. “You haven’t had to ask him for money, have you? I know times have been tough.”

Kerry sighed. “Mostly he gives advice. I have Jock, Drew and the boys to help me. They’re good cattlemen, and they’ve been with us forever, but they don’t have Byrne’s experience or business expertise.”

“So he did loan you money?”

“He’s helped out, yes.”

“To the tune of what?”

“A hundred thousand or so,” Kerry said, as casually as he could. “A drop in the ocean, really. He’ll get it back. Unlike us, the Beresfords don’t rely solely on the beef chain. They’re into everything. Byrne’s positively brilliant when it comes to making money. He’s way ahead of the field.”

“I daresay, and it’s not at all unusual. They seem to pass the talent along, but it puts us under an obligation to him, doesn’t it?”

“Toni, you heard him yourself. We’re family.”

“You’re family. I’m not. I’ve been given the role of outsider. I suppose, as you’re getting married, we should talk about our affairs,” she said simply.

“You don’t want me to pay you out, do you, Toni?” Kerry looked worried. “I understand the funny position you’re in, but right now it’s out of the question.”

“No, that’s not it at all.” Toni shook her head. “But I’m thinking the Beresfords have a way of taking over. Byrne has already touched on the subject.”

“In what way?” The look of anxiety remained in Kerry’s eyes.

“Maybe you’d prefer to discuss it with him yourself. He suggested it, as a matter of fact.”

“No. You tell me.”

Toni studied her brother’s face. “He was thinking it might be possible for you to get a loan.”

Kerry reacted swiftly. “Not the kind of money you’re entitled to. Not unless I had—”

“A guarantor?”

“Aha!” Kerry looked at his strong hands.

“Byrne would want his sister to be sole mistress of Nowra. You do see that?”

Kerry shifted in his chair. “Cate’s never said anything.”

“I imagine she has plans to refurbish the house,” Toni said reasonably.

“I’m not marrying her for her money.” Kerry brushed back his thick curly hair.

“Good Lord, you don’t have to tell me that. I’m only saying that Cate is a very confident person. She’s coming from a very secure place. She’ll want to run her own home.”

“I do know she wants to make certain changes,” Kerry admitted.

“That’s okay by me. It could only be for the better. I know you like familiar things around you, Kerry—you’re a lot like Dad—but the house will be lovely lightened up. I never did go along with all the Victoriana. Neither did Zoe.”

“She couldn’t change Dad there,” Kerry said almost with satisfaction.

“I hope you’re not thinking of putting a brake on Cate,” Toni warned.

“She wouldn’t let me.” He looked at her and grinned. “I make no bones about it. Cate’s the boss.”

Which was probably true, Toni thought. Cate was a strong, positive individual who liked to take charge.-It was part of her attraction for Kerry. As he turned away from his mother, he reached out for a strong female figure. One who valued hard work, loyalty, love- Cate was a mother figure in a disguised form. Even as a girl she had been a very capable person, springing instantly to Kerry’s defense on any occasion even if he was only mildly under attack. There were four years between her and her brother. She and Cate had never been close, but there had never been the slightest friction between them. Cate had asked her to be her chief bridesmaid, but Toni had the feeling Sonia Beresford wouldn’t have wanted to go along with that idea. Probably not Byrne, either. He had all but told her her defection to Zoe had reduced her standing in everyone’s eyes.

Byrne picked them up in the Castle Hill helicopter at nine-thirty sharp Saturday morning. Kerry was all smiles at the prospect of spending the weekend with his beloved, but Toni, despite her varied and sometimes downright distressing experiences over the past years, felt a flutter of nerves. Arriving at Castle Hill wasn’t exactly like flying into the lion’s den, but she couldn’t help feeling she’d be under the microscope. A polo match, a final between amateur teams from all over the Outback, was due to start at three.

“Two matches even,” Kerry told her, a proud member of Byrne’s team, which comprised the two Beresford brothers, Kerry and Sandy Donaldson, a big-shot player from Emu Downs, a sheep and cattle property in Central Queensland.

“It’ll be a great game, Toni,” Kerry promised. “Plenty of drama with Byrne on the field.”

“Just so long as you don’t come a cropper.” Byrne gave him a lazy smile. “You have to walk down the aisle in a month’s time.”

“I know how to hold my own.” Kerry grinned. “You’re the player. Hell, you won our first match at a canter.”

“The supreme man’s man!” Toni widened her eyes in mock admiration.

Once they were airborne, Toni saw the infinite blue sky without a single speck of cloud stretched from horizon to horizon. She felt her heart racing as she looked. Castle Hill was the flagship of the Beresford chain. It had been built up and enlarged with steely determination from generation to generation, its history a larger-than-life saga that really needed recording. It was full of high drama, of danger and tragedy, of drought and flood and one terrible fire in the early 1920s when an entire wing of the homestead had been destroyed and a Beresford son had lost his life. The station took its name from a monolithic sandstone hill that towered behind the homestead and that resembled an ancient ruined castle. There were many of these extraordinary castle-like formations scattered throughout the Outback, but Castle Hill, or Korrunda Koorun, as the aborigines called it, was one of the most spectacular. Over the years Toni had seen it in all its manifestations. Glowing fiercely against the cobalt sky, larkspur at dawn and at dusk, impossible to describe at sunset when it flashed gold and rose, ominous when the great electrical storms blew and it glinted silver, lurid green and black. The aborigines looked on Korrunda Koorun as a sacred site, spirit-haunted, not fantasy but closely associated with many a scary tale family and staff kept locked away in their hearts. Usually Castle Hill was benign, a truly wonderful natural feature to be admired, but all of them had felt its occasional menace.

Today it looked spectacular, standing like a great fortress with the homestead at its feet. Byrne landed them on the front lawn of the grand colonial set so incongruously in a million wild acres, but for all the grandness of the mansion, it was the unique setting that filled the visitor with the greatest shock of excitement.

“That’s not your hand trembling, is it?” Byrne asked as he helped her descend onto the ground.

“Don’t tease.” Nervous, she forced herself to speak lightly.

“What are you afraid of?” His vibrant voice was surprisingly gentle.

“You might eat me for dinner.”

“I’d be more interested in kissing you.”

That brought her head up. She stared at him, finding lights flickering in his brilliant eyes. “Don’t endanger yourself doing it,” she warned.

“I can take care of myself, Antoinette.” He brought his gaze deliberately to her soft, luscious mouth.

“Ah, the optimism of the confirmed bachelor.” Toni was grateful the breeze was cooling her cheeks.

“Really. I can get married any time I like.”

“Lord knows, you’re entitled,” she managed to say, smooth as honey. “I almost feel sorry I’m not available.”

“I’m not a baby snatcher, either.”

“Byrne Beresford, I’m way over the legal age.” Her violet eyes glowed.

He brought up his hand and mussed her shining hair a little. “To me you’re a minor.”

“Could it be you feel threatened?” Suddenly she was enjoying herself, caught between the need for control and going off like a rocket.

“Distracted, maybe.” Byrne’s silver eyes sparkled like coins in the sunlight.

“Well, I figure that’s good enough.”

He threw a glance over her shoulder, and Toni turned. Two women were coming down the steps, the older with some regality as befitted the mistress of Castle Hill, the younger, tall, slim, dark-haired, at an excited rush.

“Front up, young Streeton,” Byrne drawled.

Cate went into her fiancé’s, waiting arms, turning to beam radiantly at his sister. “Toni, how lovely to see you. You’ve grown every bit as beautiful as Byrne said. Welcome home.”

Toni moved spontaneously so they could exchange a kiss. “I’m thrilled to be home, Cate. Thank you so much for wanting me as your bridesmaid. I’m honoured.”

“How could I not have you?” Cate exclaimed. “We’ll be sisters in a month’s time. I’ve always wanted a sister.”

“Antoinette, my dear.” Sonia Beresford had reached them, a handsome, forceful woman of well above aver age height with dark gray eyes, a thick sweep of near black hair and a manner that suggested she never, but never lost her cool.

“Mrs. Beresford.”

Toni was hugged lightly. “Welcome home, my dear. I hope you’re not going to go off and leave us again?”

“My plans are a little unsettled at the moment, Mrs. Beresford,” Toni said, keeping her mouth curved in a smile. “I’m so thrilled and excited about the wedding.”

“We all are, my dear. Our two families united.” Sonia Beresford looked with pride at her son, then turned her patrician head to Kerry. “And how are you, my dear?”

“Fine, Sonia.” A white smile lit Kerry’s attractive face. “It’s wonderful having Toni back. We talked into the small hours and we still haven’t talked ourselves out.”

“So much to catch up on, dear.”

“Take the bags to the veranda, would you, Pike?” Byrne spoke to an approaching houseman. Giving orders was a Beresford way of life, Toni thought.

“Well, don’t let’s stand here in the hot sun. Come into the house,” Sonia said in her smooth contralto.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Byrne said, sketching a brief salute.

“You’ll be back in time for lunch, won’t you, darling?” his mother asked a little anxiously.

“Sure. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he answered, and gave Toni a final sizzling glance.

“Notice any changes?” Sonia asked as they walked to the house.

“It looks perfect, as always,” Toni said. “That magnificent white creeper is new.” She looked toward the lofty exterior of the two-storeyed building, a central core flanked by two large wings set to form a semicircle. The stone pillars of the ground floor formed a magnificent colonnade that was festooned with a luxuriant creeper bearing masses of pure white trumpet flowers.

“I got very tired of the bougainvillea,” Sonia explained. “It made a wonderful display but it was hard to control. The moon flower has been in for about three years. It’s just perfect for the wedding. It flowers right through spring and summer.”

Inside the house Toni could see at a glance it had been refurbished on the grand scale for the coming wedding. Her partial view of the drawing room revealed the walls had been hung with a beautiful new paper in glowing yellow that went splendidly with the gold frames of the mirrors and paintings and the gold cornices that set off the white-plastered ceiling and the gold and white bookcases. It looked lovely and light and airy, yellow taffeta curtains at the long line of French doors.

Sonia caught her looking. “Plenty of time to go over the house, dear. It needed a little decorating, and now was the perfect time to do it. Let me show you to your room. You’ll want to settle in.”

They walked up the spectacular central staircase, possibly the most striking feature of the house, to the landing that divided to lead to the upper floor and the richly adorned gallery flooded with light from the glass dome above. The suite of bedrooms was off the gallery, and Sonia gestured toward the west wing. Like the entrance hall and the drawing room, the gallery had been repainted, its elaborate plasterwork continuing the yellow, white and gold theme. It looked remarkably beautiful and graceful, and it would have cost the earth.

Sonia waved a vaguely apologetic hand.

“Even Byrne had to question all the money that was being spent. But it’s not every day one’s only daughter gets married. And from home. I’m so thrilled about that. You’re down this way, my dear. You’ll have a lovely view of the walled garden.”

Sonia paused outside an open doorway and stood back for Toni to precede her. The room was lovely, decorated in French pieces, including the antique bed, the colour scheme pink and white. She had never in her life stayed at the homestead, although her parents had on many occasions for balls, parties and the like.

“Like it?” Sonia smiled at Toni’s transparent expression.

“It’s a beautiful room, Mrs. Beresford. Enchanting.”

“And it’s yours for the wedding.” Sonia walked to an arrangement of pink roses on the small writing desk and tweaked at a stray flower. “Really, I had a marvellous time doing everything up. I can only hope when Byrne makes his mother happy and chooses a bride she shares my tastes.”

“I love everything I’ve seen.” Toni smiled, walking to the open French doors and looking over the walled section of the garden. “You’re a wonderful gardener, as well.”

“These days, dear, I only do the planning,” Sonia said. “I don’t like to talk about it, but I’ve developed arthritis in my hands. Just like my dear mother. I’m not having the lawns mown until the day before the wedding. I want them to stay green. We use bore water, of course, and we were very fortunate with the winter rains. A miracle, really, after so many daunting years. The long-range forecast is for heavy rain over tropical Queensland about Christmas, so we’ll eventually get the floodwaters.”