Beresford's Bride. Margaret Way
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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.”
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