Beresford's Bride

“You haven’t bothered before.” It came out more harshly than he intended, but she was having the damnedest effect on him. An unwanted rush of desire, under the desire hostility, and deeper yet, a need to put an end to it.

Opposite him, acutely aware of it, Toni’s eyes glittered with tears. Her voice fell, as though she was talking to herself. “We’ll never be forgiven, will we?”

Those eyes, he thought. Lotus lilies. Blue into violet. “It’s done, Toni,” he said. “All over with.”

There was a pause. “I don’t think so, Byrne.” She wanted to speak candidly, bridge the gulfs, but there were aspects of Zoe’s life she needed to keep private. “You can’t know the difficulties. Zoe was using her maiden name. It complicated things terribly. We were at sea. When we finally got the message, it was too late.” She stopped abruptly, anxious not to implicate her mother further. Zoe had an immense capacity for poor judgment. She had kept the news from Toni for days as she battled her own demons.

“Well, it’s the nearest you’ve got to explaining,” he said in a terse voice.

Her look of pain was almost physical. “We’re still raw with the memory.” The whiplash of grief.

The gray eyes assessed, calculated, found her wanting. “Forgive me, Toni, but that’s a little hard to believe. Zoe didn’t have the slightest difficulty walking out on your father.”

“Am I expected to make expiation?” Her nerves tightened powerfully.

“Certainly not to me.” His voice was clipped. She was getting too close to him. Under his skin.

“I don’t want to have to bear your constant disapproval, Byrne. We are going to be in-laws.”

“I wasn’t aware I was showing any. You’re very lovely, Antoinette.” He gave her a glance that left her shaken. “Paris has put a fine polish on you.”

“I wasn’t talking about my looks,” she countered a little sadly.

“Good Lord, doesn’t everybody?”

Sometimes her looks were a downright disadvantage. Deliberately she changed the subject, picking something safe. “Cate must be very excited.” .

“She is,” he agreed, watching the different expressions chase across her face. “The wedding is having a big impact on all of us. The first wedding on Castle Hill since my grandfather’s time. My parents. were married in Sydney, as you know.”

“And Dad was best man. I suppose it was inevitable both families would be united at some time. Cate and Kerry have always been great friends. They radiate such warmth and ease when they’re together. I suppose it was only natural they would fall in love. They’re the lucky ones.”

“Surely you’ve fallen in love yourself?” he asked.

“I thought so. Once or twice. It didn’t work out.”

“Take your time,” he advised. “Marriage is a huge risk.”

“Could that be another dig?”

“Not at all,” he returned. “Clearly you have a chip on your shoulder. How is Zoe?”

She frowned defensively. “She’s staying with friends at the moment.”

“Morocco, isn’t it?” Byrne said.

She nodded. “A villa a few miles from the centre of Marrakech. It’s very beautiful, a French colonial style farmhouse surrounded by date palms, cedars and lots of silver gray olive trees. Pink bougainvillea smothering the walls.”

“You’re really making it sound terribly attractive. You’ve been there, I take it?”

“Some time ago,” she acknowledged in a low voice. “Patrick is hoping to marry my mother.”

“No! ” He feigned shock. “Surely that’s a little difficult even for Zoe. What does her husband think about it?”

“Shut up, Byrne,” she said through clenched teeth. Lord, had she said it? She had.

“No, really.” His smile was cool. “There are a few rules.”

“Mamma hates rules. Besides, Claude is resigned to losing her. He’s many years her senior.”

“So that makes a difference, does it?” His brilliant eyes were diamond hard.

“It does to Zoe. If a thing doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.”

“Of course, one must be happy at any cost. assume Patrick’s rich?”

The gibe nipped sharply. “Of course, he is. We both know Zoe must have money.”

“She appears to have looked after you rather well.” His eyes recorded her perfect grooming, the lovely, expensive pink and yellow silk dress.

“I haven’t lived off my mother or her husbands,” she told him quietly. A point of honour.

“I’m sorry. I understood you followed them all around Europe. You’ve acquired an accent, by the way. It’s utterly charming.”

“Would it surprise you if I told you I spoke French like a native?”

“Not at all. So what have you been doing for yourself in Paris?”

His eyes held a cool taunt.

Obviously he wouldn’t see her as a dedicated schoolmarm tutoring English, which was what she had been doing quite successfully. That and part-time photographic modelling, mostly featuring her long blond hair.

“I’ll tell you some time if you’re really interested,” she said.

“What’s wrong with now?”

“I think you have some preconceived notions about me.”

“Actually, Toni, you hadn’t established yourself at all.” Which wasn’t true. She was affecting him strongly. “After all, your mother spirited you away when you were only seventeen. Kerry missed you terribly. Did you realise that? Especially after your father died.”

She heard the little catch in her voice. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“No,” he agreed, his striking face grim. “Your father grew careless with life. He was profoundly affected by the divorce.”

“I loved him, Byrne.” She lowered her head, her voice sad.

“He certainly loved you.” Adored her, more like it.

“I was devastated when I heard.” In fact, she had collapsed, full of hysterical accusations against her mother.