THEY were all in the church...waiting. At least, all those who could fit into the small white church—the two families and the people closest to them—were jammed in...waiting.
The old wooden building, constructed in the traditional Queenslander style with its studs exposed on the outside, weatherboard cladding on the inside, was virtually a historic landmark in Port Douglas, positioned near the shoreline of Anzac Park, overlooking Dickenson Inlet. St. Mary's by the sea did not hold a big congregation. But outside, the whole park was filled with people...waiting.
Alex checked his watch.
Beside him, Matt muttered, "She's running late." Tony's nerves tightened another notch.
"Only five minutes," Alex murmured.
But Hannah was always, always punctual. It must be someone else's fault, Tony fiercely reasoned. She wouldn't leave him standing here today. She'd promised. No running away at the last minute. His ring had still been on her finger yesterday. There was no need to worry.
He stared out the big picture window at the back of the church. It was a brilliant sunny afternoon yet there were no boats out on the inlet. No boats and no business being done in Port Douglas. Everything had stopped for the wedding.
It was like a festival day out there in the park. Marquees had been set up to serve food and drinks. Local bands were entertaining the crowd. An Aboriginal dance troupe had come down from Kuranda, adding their primitive colour to the celebratory atmosphere. People had flocked here from up and down the whole far north to witness the occasion. Even the ferals who shunned all society had left their shelters in the hills and come into town today.
Tony King was getting married.
If his bride turned up.
Did Hannah realise this was not like a city wedding where only those directly involved in it would be affected if it was cancelled? This was a community event and the King family always delivered what it promised. It wasn't just his pride at stake here. Almost a hundred years of tradition was riding on his judgement that Hannah loved him enough to be his bride.
His heart said she did.
His mind said she had to or there was no sense to what he felt with her. His soul yearned for her to join him.
"Listen!" Alex nudged him, a huge grin breaking across his face. "She's on her way."
Cheers rising from the crowd outside. It had to mean they could see the horse-drawn buggies coming down Wharf Street from the Coral King Apartments where the O'Neill family had been housed for the wedding.
His grandmother and her great-grandson, Marco, would be in the first one, having come from the castle to head the procession. Alex's four-year- old son was to carry in the grey-velvet cushion on which lay the wedding rings. No doubt he was jiggling with excitement at being part of this grand occasion.
Alex's lovely wife, Gina, and Hannah's sister, Trish, would be riding in the second, wearing the emerald-green gowns he'd chosen for them.
Behind them would be Hannah with her father. Tony hoped she felt his love for her in everything she wore today—the bride of his choice. The wedding gown was relatively simple, a slim silky ankle-length dress which would hug her lovely curves, its low square-cut neckline and shoulder straps beaded with white pearls. Most meaningful of all to him was the headdress that would hold her veil.
Picard pearls—the best in the world from Broome at the coastal edge of the Kimberly. He'd contacted Jared King whom he'd met at Alex's wedding. The Kings of the Kimberly were descended from the same paternal line as his grandfather, and Jared ran the Picard Pearl Company.
His wife, Christabel, had requested photographs of Hannah and had created a special design for her from the ideas Tony had wanted expressed. It was his special gift to his bride on their wedding day. He hoped she loved it...was wearing it with love for him. She might not understand what it symbolised but he would tell her tonight—tonight when he made love to his wife.
Outside the noise of cheering and clapping increased. The jazz band broke into a joyous rendition of "When The Saints Come Marching In." The crowd started singing.
"What's the betting the band is leading the procession in?" Matt remarked, happy now that activity was in the air.
Everyone in the church started buzzing with anticipation. The waiting was almost over. Peter Owen handed his god-daughter, Alex's and Gina's new baby girl, to Rosita and moved to sit at the electronic keyboard, ready to play. His white grand piano could not fit into this church, but it was waiting for him in the ballroom at the castle. For this wedding, he would do anything asked of him. Gina was to sing and he always accompanied Gina when she sang, joining in the duets with her.
The band's jazz playing stopped just outside the church. The crowd hushed. Tony took a deep breath to relax himself. In his mind's eye he could see the drivers of the buggies helping their passengers step down. A little shiver ran down his spine as the deep haunting throb of didgeridoos began.
The Aborigines who'd gathered were calling up the spirits of the dreamtime to wish this union well. It brought an eerie sense of ancient rites to this moment, reminding Tony that he belonged to this land which had proved fruitful for four generations of his family. The nature of it had to be respected and one had to work in harmony with it. That was the way of everything and the same had to be applied to marriage. Respect, harmony...
Silence.
Footsteps in the vestibule.
Alex and Matt, half turning to look.
Tony took another deep breath and followed suit. His grandmother was entering the church, walking up to the front pew. She was smiling at him. It was a smile that promised all was well.
Behind her he could see Marco and Gina and Trish lined up to make their entrance, but not Hannah as yet. No amount of sensible willpower could get rid of the butterflies in Tony's stomach. The moment his grandmother reached her place, Peter Owen started playing, the electronic keyboard producing quite a wonderful rendition of Mendelssohn's wedding march. There were speakers outside the church transmitting the ceremony to all who wanted to listen and the music seemed to swirl everywhere.
Marco started up the aisle, carefully carrying his cushion and grinning delightedly at his father who stood beside Tony, undoubtedly encouraging his little son. Gina came next. Then Trish. Tony forgot about breathing altogether when finally Hannah and her father moved into position to start their procession towards him.
His heart stopped.
She was here... Hannah...his bride...so radiantly beautiful...smiling at him...her green eyes sparkling... and holding the long white bridal veil was the plait of pearls, looping over the top of her head, each end fastened by exquisite gold and pearl butterflies, below them the long unplaited strands of pearls falling down beside her ears, mingling with the wavy tresses of her hair.
Two butterflies—one for him, one for her, joined by a bond that would intertwine them for the rest of their lives—and that was how it would be because she was here, willing to marry him, wanting to share the future with him, and she walked towards him, not one shadow of doubt dimming the happiness that shone from her and beamed straight into his heart, kick- starting it into a thunderous beat, a joyous drumming of love for this woman
—his woman.
He held out his hand to her. She took it.
The bargain was complete. This was the time for them. The link was unbreakable.