Cate looked at him for a long moment. “You’re the best brother in the world,” she said gently, blinking to dispel one emotional tear.
“Thanks, Cate. It’s just the sort of thing I want to hear.” He smiled.
“I know, I know, it’s cost a great deal of money.”
He didn’t consider that at all. “I want you to know making this day perfect for you is all that matters.”
Soft and flushed with happiness, Cate turned to the door. “Well, I’d better go see to young Camille. She’s as temperamental as a ballet dancer. Allow time for the hairdresser, Toni,” she warned. “She’s going to love fixing your hair.”
“I hope she’s not planning on doing too much,” Byrne said when Cate had gone. His forehead creased with a touch of dismay. “I like it just the way it is. Long and thick and shining, radiating perfect health.” Toni didn’t need an elaborate hairdo to look stunning.
She smiled at his expression. “I expect she’ll want to lift the front away from my face to complement the headdress, that’s all. So stop looking like I’m going to finish with a lacquered beehive.”
“Tell her from me. I want you to look natural.”
“Okay, I promise.” Toni moved into the centre of the room, half closing her eyes against the flood of light and the shimmering floral arrangements with their fresh, sweet perfume. “This will be a glory when the afternoon sun pours through those high windows.”
He smiled as she moved into a beam of light. “Which is just what Cate intended. I haven’t had an opportunity to really speak to you since Zoe arrived home. She was absolutely charming the other night.”
“She said the same thing about you.”
“No one is disputing her good taste. It was an absolute coup, her coming up with your share of Nowra as a wedding present.” His eyes were fixed on her with disconcerting steadiness. “Of course, you didn’t have anything to do with it?”
“Why should you say that?”
“Oh, I think I’ve got to know you pretty well. You have a healing touch, Antoinette. Kerry has been dogged by deep-seated...problems. Things from the past. It seemed to me they had eased. He looked very comfortable and caring with Zoe.”
Toni turned and walked to him, her manner showing her lightness of spirit. “They’ve been getting on really well. Kerry had a confused idea Zoe didn’t really love him. She does. But he has Cate now.”
“He’s always had Cate.” Byrne’s eyes glinted with amusement.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? For some people there is only that one special person.”
He took a while to answer. “Sometimes revelation comes right out of the blue.”
“I know that too well.”
He touched her cheek almost with reverence. “Toni, you haven’t lived.” She looked the very picture of innocence.
“I know all about heartbreak.” She stared at him. “I know life is very short. I know love’s a glory. I glory in you.” She felt an odd sense of shock as the words spilled out.
“Toni, you don’t.” He drew her to him.
She leaned against him, turned her face into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. That just popped out.”
Why not? Hadn’t he been guarding his tongue from her for some time? “In another year you might feel quite differently.” He felt like an actor reciting some lines. What the hell was he trying to do? Drive her away?
“You make me weep, Byrne.” She lifted her head, her beautiful violet eyes starry with unshed tears. “I’m the only one who can say who I’ll love. If only it was like that with you.”
Some part of him was exultant at her admission. “Antoinette, you’re so young,” he said with as much pain as principle. “Too young to make a forever commitment. That’s the only kind of commitment I could ever accept.”
“Which means you don’t love me,” she murmured sadly. “You want me now but you don’t really see me in your life.”
He winced. “You are in my life, Toni. Neither of us can change that.” God forbid he should make her a prisoner. This creature of light. “What you’re feeling is an adventure. I’m here to cut your teeth on. I’m Byrne Beresford who has known you all your life. However much I want you, and I can’t imagine you don’t know it, I would always keep you safe. It’s a heavy responsibility. There’s a wedding going on. A heady time. Magic is abroad, like the mirage that turns a dry gully into an oasis.”
“You want me to go away?” Her eyes moved to his face.
“Toni, don’t let me upset you. Not today. I care too much about you.”
“You’re a strange man, Byrne Beresford,” she said. “A woman could as soon tame you as an eagle.”
“You don’t really want me tame, do you?”
His smile stopped her heart. She raised her head, all emotions and desires coming to the surface. “I want you to love me.” She laughed, a brittle silvery sound. “Isn’t that a joke?” She jerked her slender body backward, coming up hard against his encircling arm, struggling a little, only he wasn’t letting her go.
“Take that sad look off your face,” he begged.
“I won’t.” Her eyes darkened to purple. “Why shouldn’t I be sad? What’s all this about, anyway?”
“Don’t, Toni,” he retorted too quietly. “You’d drive a man crazy.”
“That’s funny, coming from you,” she challenged. “Is that what I am for you, too? An adventure. A nice change from all the other women who come along. The women who worship you.”
“We don’t need all this talk.” His expression tautened.
“Then what do we need? Tell me.”
Passion was a high blue flame. It reached out for both of them and licked them. Not even Byrne could fight it.
This was life!
This was the stupendous feeling that made magic out of living. He held her fast, bending his head and taking her soft, furious mouth. She was excited, overwrought. He could feel the trembling right through her body. What did he want, anyway? He was mad with thinking about it. Nights of worrying and thinking about Antoinette Streeton. Nights of dreaming of having her in his bed. Her silvery blond hair splashed against his pillow. Her lovely spirited body his to love and know.
Did he want to marry her?
He couldn’t marry her. She had to have a chance to choose properly. He knew he was controlling her. He knew he was hard and arrogant. This beautiful girl into woman. What would he do when she was gone?
He kissed her again and again until Toni went limp, nothing clear in her mind except she loved him with every atom of her being. He was cruel. He was exquisitely tender. Marvelously erotic.
“Aah.” She sighed, her breath like a flowering. “How can I possibly forget you if you won’t let me?”
A curious expression, half hard, half confounded, was written on his dark face. Forget him? He hated the sound of it. It made him feel cold, entirely alone in some strange, bleak landscape.
“You can’t forget me,” he said.
“I must.” She was trying to pull away. “Why aren’t you comfortable with the thought? You should be. Why do you let this go on?”
He looked nakedly into her violet eyes. “Because I can’t stop it. That’s the devil of it, Antoinette. I want you too much.”
Everyone who attended the Streeton Beresford wedding would remember it as a most marvelous happy occasion, the wedding of the year. The bride, her bridesmaids and three little flower girls looked breathtaking as they started their stately glide down the long Persian carpet to where the groom and his attendants, resplendent in morning suits with black pleated trousers and dark gray striped silk cravats, were waiting. Bishop McGrath in his wedding vestments faced them, smiling, waiting to perform the ceremony that would unite two great pioneering families.
At four o’clock the wedding service began, and the murmurs became a swell as everyone turned to catch their first sight of the bride and her gorgeous entourage. Cate approached in her wonderful gown, a waist-length shimmering veil falling from her coronet of satin roses.
Lustrous pearl drops, Kerry’s gift, swung against her cheeks. Her blue eyes glowed in a face that was a little pale with emotion. Behind her were her bridesmaids, stunning each one, but none more dazzling than her chief bridesmaid in her blue-violet gown, her blond head crowned by a coronet of exquisite flowers that reflected the jewel colours of the bridesmaids’ gowns. The enchanting flower girls seemed dazed by all the splendour, the decorated ballroom, the stately music, the sea of faces, the great chandeliers with their tiers of light and the candles on the long carved table that served as an altar. They looked adorable in their cream silk dresses with underskirts of tulle, pink roses catching the gathered skirt and the full puffed sleeves, posies in their hands and flowers and ribbons in their hair. They were cousins and best friends, mindful of this honour.
Toni felt her eyes fill with tears at her brother’s smile when he first caught sight of his bride. There was so much love in him. It shone from his soul.
May your love endure forever, Toni prayed silently as Bishop McGrath began the traditional Anglican service.
Before his final utterances and the pure notes of the boy soprano, who brought tears to many an eye, had faded away, sunset began to cascade through the soaring casements, flooding the assembly with magical light. There were smiles, nods, happy tears, soft spontaneous exclamations of delight. The bridegroom bent to kiss his bride, then the wedding march began with great aplomb, sweet, loud, full of the miracle of love. Kerry and Cate faced family and friends, their young faces transfigured by the overwhelming joy and significance of this, their wedding day.
Mr. and Mrs. Streeton.
Toni saw her mother touch a delicate lace-edged handkerchief to her eyes.
Only when the bridal couple had passed into the library did the homestead resound with exuberant cheers for the bride and groom.
“Such a happy day, darling,” Zoe whispered to her daughter. Zoe was ravishing in an ice blue suit, sapphires and diamonds around her neck and at her ears, a chic little hat trimmed with a garland of flowers and a bewitching eye veil tipped forward on her forehead. “I just know in my heart you’re going to be next.”
The little flower girls, set free from the solemnity of the occasion, rushed about with glee, playing peekaboo behind the bridesmaids’ billowing skirts and waving at the other beautifully dressed children. They all began to troop over to the reception with lots of exuberant hugs and shouted greetings along the way as old friends met up. Everyone professed amazement and delight at what had been achieved with the old stone stable. What a restoration!
A cousin turned to Byrne, half serious. “Can I book it now?”
The day was coming to a glorious end. The afternoon heat had completely lifted, and everyone, thanks to high emotion and delight in their surroundings, found themselves enormously hungry. Ready, in fact, for the great wedding feast that followed.
Byrne’s speech, though short, filled them all with a pervading warmth. He spoke movingly of his sister and his family, then finished off with a funny little anecdote extolling Cate’s very special virtues. They all laughed, and Sonia looked at her son, so splendid, so distinguished, his gray wool-mohair morning suit so beautifully cut, fitting his wide shoulders to perfection, the silver-gray silk of his striped cravat accentuating the luminous colour of his eyes. She was so proud of him. Sometimes she thought she couldn’t stand it. This immense overflowing love.
By about eight o’clock the reception shifted into dance mode. The young people moved onto the polished floor, massing and swirling to the music of the excellent band. All the bridesmaids had removed their boleros to reveal their beautiful strapless gowns, and Joel, an expression of delight on his face, grabbed Toni, whirling her off into the midst of the extremely energetic dancers. Some, after one champagne too many, were openly smooching, others, so as not to be out of it, were dancing solo.
“It’s all gone beautifully, hasn’t it?” Joel said with great satisfaction. “I think I’m a little drunk. I suppose I can be at my own sister’s wedding. Doesn’t she look marvellous? I’ve never seen her look anywhere near so good. It’s true about brides.” He looked toward the bridal couple, Cate’s two arms locked around Kerry’s neck. “You look gorgeous, too. Did I tell you?”
“About a dozen times.” Toni smiled.
“Did you like Byrne’s present to the attendants?”
“I don’t think any of us expected such a gift,” Toni answered simply. Byrne had presented them with beautiful jewelled broaches in the shape of a swan as a memento of this very special day. French perfume in lovely designer bottles from Cate. So much had been happening, Toni was certain no one had noticed that Andrea hadn’t once directly addressed her. Oh, she was acting very friendly, very much into enjoying herself, but Toni knew Andrea was biding her time.
Nevertheless the suddenness of it took her by surprise. “I must speak to you,” Andrea said, coming up behind Toni and laying a hand on her arm.
“Fine, go ahead.” Toni turned, determined to be pleasant, meeting Andrea’s green gaze steadily.
“Your mother is certainly beautiful,” Andrea said, sounding surprised.
“Yes. Yes, she is.” Toni had been keeping an eye on her mother. She was dancing with a tall, elegant gray-haired gentleman. Toni thought she knew him but couldn’t place him.
“She’s actually more stunning than I was led to believe.”
“Paris,” Toni responded in a light, dry voice. “It puts one on one’s toes.”
“It was good of her to come, but when is she going home?”
“When it suits her, Andrea.”
There was silence as Andrea’s emotions rose. “Well, Kerry will miss her. But I imagine you’ll be returning to Paris together?”
“Certainly for a little while,” Toni acknowledged. “We both have to put our affairs in order.”
“You don’t mean to say you’re coming back?” Andrea showed her dismay.
“This is my home, isn’t it?”
“You’re not going to live with Kerry and Cate. That would be ludicrous.”
Toni sought to put an end to the interrogation. “Andrea, I’m not yet sure of my plans. Why the interest?”
“You know dam well,” Andrea said in a tight voice. “Byrne may be attracted to you now simply because you’re beautiful, but he won’t marry you.”
“I don’t think he’s going to marry you, either, Andrea,” Toni said, not unkindly.
“He hasn’t married anyone else. Let’s face it, he may see you as a passing fancy, but marriage, no. Surely you’ve seen the steel in him? He’s not Joel, to be won over. He’s an intensely serious man. He makes tough decisions all the time. He wouldn’t risk a girl like you. But our relationship was working very well until you arrived.”
Andrea walked away. Men often married women they didn’t love, Toni thought, women who could play the necessary part. Byrne might well do the same.
She’d almost given up hope of dancing with him, perilous as that experience might be, but like the moth she was drawn to the flame. He was surrounded by people, men and women, all vying to capture his attention. Once he caught her eye and his handsome mouth compressed as if to say, Well, I am stand-in father of the bride. It must be tedious for him sometimes, being head of the clan, Toni thought. There was Joel, doing exactly what he pleased, his arm around Fern’s shoulder while she looked at him with sweet intensity, an all-is-forgiven expression.
Toni was on the dance floor with Fern’s attractive brother when Byrne cut in, wearing such a charm the birds-out-of-the-trees smile that James, who had waited patiently to claim a dance, relinquished Toni without a complaint.
“Only for you, Byrne,” he murmured. “Toni, I’ll claim you later, if I may?”
She forgot James entirely as Byrne gathered her close. As the evening progressed, the band’s upbeat repertoire had given way to slow romantic tunes, the popular love songs of the day.
“You look wonderful. A vision of delight,” he said after a few pulsing moments.
His voice was low and, it seemed to her, faintly disturbed.
She wasn’t sure. It was difficult to get anything into focus when he was holding her in his arms, pressing her against his lean body. Something Andrea had said to her stayed. The steel in him. The ability to take tough decisions.
She had to retain her poise. “Thank you, Byrne. Everything has gone marvellously well. You must be pleased.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Streeton.” He glanced in the bridal couple’s direction. “Yes, I am pleased. Have you ever seen another couple so happy?”
“That’s not our story,” she said wryly. “Tomorrow this sweet golden day will be over. I’ll probably go back to Paris. You’ll probably see a lot more of Andrea.”
Deliberately he looked over the top of her ash-blond head with its lovely coronet of flowers. “I wish Andrea everything good in life, but it should be clear by now I have no romantic interest in her. Besides, I can’t redirect my feelings so easily.”
“Feelings pass. You told me yourself.”
Stop it, Toni, she told herself sharply. She was provoking him, which could lead to danger. It was all the excitement, the champagne.
“You’d like me to give in to a grand passion?” he challenged.
“I’d like you to but I realise it would be too big a departure from yourself.” What ambivalence was within her. Love and anger.
“But you wonder just the same?”
“Byrne, those kisses weren’t fake,” she said sadly. They had stolen her heart.
“You want the power to change my life.”
Tension was a live wire. Touching him. Touching her. “You know what Tennyson said. ”Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’”
He gave her a sharp smile. “We both know rapturous love affairs can end dreadfully. I would never wish a painful experience on you.”
“A little bit late, isn’t it?” She smiled over his shoulder at an old acquaintance.
“No way, Antoinette, I’d let my wife fly off.”
A two-heartbeat pause. Heartbeats that hammered. “I don’t doubt that for a moment.” She had an acute sense of his iron resolve. “But why, if you love our world so much, do you see it as a prison?”
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