Beresford's Bride. Margaret Way

home. I’m very grateful.”

      Byrne shrugged it off. “It’s been a pleasure. I enjoyed it.”

      Toni turned a radiant face to him, catching a long windblown skein of hair. “You’ll stay and have a cup of coffee, won’t you, Byrne?”

      “I’d like to,” he said lightly, surprising himself by gently brushing the skein from her damp cheeks, “but I have a client flying in this afternoon. He wants to pick out a couple of polo ponies.”

      “Well, he’s dealing with the best,” Kerry affirmed. “Everything set for the weekend?” He glanced from one to the other.

      “Sure.” Byrne was relaxed. “I’ve spoken to Toni. There should be about twenty people in all, excluding family, which means you two. Nothing Toni can’t handle. She’s amazingly poised and chic.”

      “She looks like one of those super models. The blonde,” Kerry said with a grin, his eyes moving over his sister’s slender figure. She was wearing a summery pink shirt and hipster pink jeans with a very fancy belt, and she looked terrific. “And she’s gone and got herself an accent. I don’t know how that’s going to go down with the locals.”

      “A few weeks home and it’ll flatten out,” Toni promised. “I’ll call your mother to thank her, Byrne.”

      He nodded, inclined his dark head. “She’ll be pleased.”

      Toni wasn’t remotely fooled by that. Sonia Beresford had never approved of Zoe. Indeed, she had on several occasions yielded to the temptation to say so. Toni was uncomfortably aware most people believed she had followed in her mother’s footsteps. A case of blurred identity. Unfair, but a fact. She had her whole life in front of her. She intended to make a success of it, not leave a lot of damaged people in her wake.

      . They had afternoon tea on the wide, cool veranda that looked out on the infinite rolling plains. Station horses grazed in a home paddock, a brilliant sun flashed off distant windmills, and a wedge-tail eagle soared buoyantly over the house, its great wings outstretched. It was almost like she had never been away. Nowra homestead wasn’t a grand colonial mansion like the Beresfords’ Castle Hill, but it was a very agreeable house indeed, with an English formality in the layout of the rooms. Two-storeyed, it was built of local stone bleached a lovely soft cream from the sun. The shutters on the top storey, the French doors on the veranda, the wooden bracketing valances and the railings were painted a pristine white. It was charming, the long three-mile drive lined with wonderful towering gums. The interior, however, was desperately in need of refurbishing. For all her skills at twisting their father around her little finger, Zoe had never been able to do much to change the decoration, essentially unchanged from their great-grandfather’s day. The heaviness, the dimness and the massive pieces of Victorian furniture remained. Toni would have dearly loved to do the refurbishing herself. She had come to realise she had a fine hand with decorating, but that was out of the question. Although she had an equal share in Nowra Station, it would be Cate’s home, and Cate would be a great deal more successful in effecting alterations than Zoe had been. Moreover, Cate came with a huge dowry, a definite asset if one wanted to transform what by today’s standards was a very large house.

      What exactly is mine? Toni wondered, mulling over her conversation with Byrne. The station was only breaking even. There was little ready cash. Unlike Cate, she wasn’t an heiress, though her share of Nowra if she sold out would make her secure.

      “You look so serious, poppet. What are you thinking about?” Kerry folded his hands behind his head.

      Toni smiled, her face soft with affection. “I’m thinking it feels like I’ve never been away.”

      He glanced across the garden, stripped back to low maintenance. “Why did you never come home, Toni?” he asked, old suffering in his eyes. “I’ve asked myself that question every day. I missed you so much. It was terrible without Dad. He needn’t have died. Septicemia. God! I told him about that gash, but he didn’t seem to think it was serious. Byrne got him into hospital. Flew him there himself, but Dad’s resistance was low—” He broke off, distressed. A tall, handsome young man, an all-over golden brown—hair, eyes, skin.

      “Don’t, Kerry,” she begged. “I know how it was.”

      “You can’t, Toni. You weren’t here.”

      “For which I’ll always mourn. I was a victim of circumstance. So was Zoe. We never wanted the terrible mix-ups to happen.”

      “Then why did she drop the name Streeton, for God’s sake?” he asked.

      Toni closed her eyes, trying to contain an unwarranted sense of guilt. “It was all meant to be, Kerry.” She sighed fatalistically. “Zoe had started a new life. She’s into playacting. You know that. When the police finally worked out exactly who she was and where, it was all too late. She was shocked out of her mind. Overcome by remorse. She couldn’t even get her courage up to tell me for days. The funeral was over. She reasoned there was nothing we could do.”

      “God!” Kerry rose abruptly and went to the balustrade, staring into infinity. “Isn’t that typical Zoe. She never could make the right decision.”

      “She tries hard to, Kerry, but she never learned how.”

      “You should have come home.”

      “I’m so sorry,” Toni answered quietly.

      “There’s more to this, isn’t there?” He turned to confront her. “You’re always protecting Zoe. You did when you were only a little girl and someone said something about her. She doesn’t deserve all this devotion, Toni.”

      “Yes, she does.” Toni felt her eyes sting with tears. “She’s my mother. She’s a child. She’ll never be finished with growing up. For a time she went off the deep end. She was distraught. It was almost as though she had killed Dad herself.”

      “Well, didn’t she?” Kerry nearly choked with tears.

      “She didn’t understand that, Kerry, when she walked out on him.”

      “Us.”

      “I know it’s hard. Zoe didn’t love any of us in the way we wanted. It’s a fact of life, and it has to be accepted. On the other hand, she can’t bear to be on her own. She told me she’d kill herself if I went off and left her.”

      Kerry stared at her, looking incredulous. “Zoe wouldn’t kill herself for anything. Unless she lost her looks or her money. Our money. She bled Dad dry. Fancy getting paid for adultery.”

      Toni went pale at his deep core of anger.

      “Did you believe she was serious?” Kerry asked.

      “It wasn’t any suicide trial, Kerry. She landed herself in the hospital. A couple more pills would have swung it.”

      For moments he didn’t answer. Then with a haunted look, Kerry crossed to his sister, went down on his haunches, held her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

      “Defending Zoe is a habit,” she said simply. “It was a side of Zoe I didn’t want you to know about. She’s like a snappy little sports car without a brake. I was the brake.”

      “That I believe.” Kerry’s voice was thin and strained. “It would have upset me, too. I hope I don’t have a child like that. It must be in our genes.”

      “I pray Zoe is a one-off,” Toni answered soberly. “I know I attract a lot of flack because of her. From your prospective brother-in-law, for one.”

      “Byrne?” Kerry’s eyebrows shot up. “I wouldn’t think Byrne would want to hurt you or give you a bad time. He’s not like that.”

      “He doesn’t think much of Zoe,” she said wryly.

      “No one thinks much of Zoe, poppet, and that’s a sad fact. I was so worried she’d try to change you. Turn you into some frivolous doll. I remember how she always wanted to dress you like one, and you