“I can relate to that,” Flynn said. “Accused by many of being spoiled and fancy-free but forever burdened with keeping the parents’ dream alive.”

“Yes,” she replied softly. Then her smile was back. “I’m glad you came tonight, Flynn. I think we have a lot in common.”

They were both startled by a loud clapping of hands and then Theo’s voice booming.

“Come, everyone. Michael has prepared a magnificent meal. It is being served in the banquet room. Please go through and take a seat.”

Flynn hung back as the large group of people moved towards the door behind him but Kat grabbed his hand and took him along with her. The banquet room was part of the original house. It was set up with long tables covered with white cloths, decorated with trails of small olive branches and dotted with bottles of wine. Along the far wall, Michael and his team waited behind another table laden with food.

“Let’s find a seat and wait for the rush to die down,” Kat murmured in his ear and led him to a table where some of her cousins were sitting. She introduced him to those closest. He knew most of the faces. Next to him was Chris, who came from Ocean Dynasty further south, and across the table sat Peter and his new wife, Angela. They were all involved in the wine industry so, naturally, that was the main topic of conversation.

Flynn was particularly interested to hear about the managerial role Chris had as cellar maintenance supervisor. It was an area where Levallier Dell badly needed an extra person. Euan, Flynn and Hugh did it between them and delegated to the casual cellar hands they employed, but it was too haphazard these days, with the size of their vineyards and Euan’s periodic absences.

Kat kept filling their glasses and talking about the different wines that were being served. He was impressed with her knowledge. She not only knew the Dynasty range, other Margaret River wines and those of the Yarra Valley but she could compare varieties from many wine regions in Australia.

He smirked as she informed Peter, with a challenge in her look, that his chardonnay was still not packed with the character of some of those available from the Adelaide Hills in South Australia or the Yarra Valley in Victoria.

“Come, Katerina,” Peter complained. “You know it has taken me years to convince Pappou to let Dad and me try an unwooded chardonnay.”

She looked contrite. “I’m only teasing. It’s still got great fruit and nice acid.” She picked up the bottle in question and considered the label carefully. “You’ve also packaged it well. The label is very distinctive.”

Flynn looked at the white lines curved across the vivid blue label. It was certainly different to the plain white label used for all other River Dynasty wines.