The Lace Balcony (34 page)

At last she found her voice. ‘We must work together, Severin.'

‘I knew you'd understand,' he said kindly.

‘But I have another idea – a portrayal that hints at forbidden pleasures. I shall need Wanda to adapt a costume and Guido to play exotic pagan music. The staging will remain as planned. Tonight I shall perform a scene I promise you will excite every man's senses. You taught me my role in life is to fulfil a man's wildest fantasies. Will you allow me to fulfil yours, Severin?'

Severin raised an eyebrow. ‘Perhaps I've underestimated you, Vianna.'

•  •  •

The first to take his seat in the ballroom, Felix chose a discreetly shadowed table and took a welcomed champagne to calm his nerves.

As Father advised, I have everything prepared. The carriage stands waiting to transport her to Mookaboola – the perfect oasis to protect our privacy.

He touched the keys in his pocket for reassurance. There was good reason to believe his revised contract would win the day. The moment he had mentioned his most likely rival, the Exclusive lampooned by the press, his father had barked, ‘That damned Tory. I'll double his offer!'

This is the longest night of my life. Why does Severin drag out the agony? To my rivals she is a courtesan, a trophy to be won. To me she
is
Venus – my life!
Felix felt buoyed by the knowledge that this was the first time he had taken control of his destiny. Yet his mood ricocheted between anxiety and euphoria. He accepted another glass of champagne.

Men in evening dress, some openly armed with opera glasses, began crowding into the ballroom for the scheduled performance. Felix's watch confirmed he was only minutes away from his destiny – despair or victory. But the watch that was a twin to Mungo's triggered a jab of guilt that he had broken his gentlemen's agreement with his half-brother.
Damn it all. Can I never break free from trying to be the Perfect Son – and be as human as Mungo?

From behind the red velvet curtains wafted the unearthly, lyrical music of a flute evoking the pipes of Pan. Gloriously pagan, its mysterious notes sent shivers of delight down his spine. His imagination conjured up wild fantasies.

Severin stood alone at the back of the room, his back to the double doors of the exit. His face was flushed, his eyes bright. Felix noted that he seemed ill at ease.

Is he unwilling to release her? Does he love her as I do – or simply needs her to sustain the decadent lifestyle he created?

The music built to a crescendo. The curtains parted to reveal an imaginative underwater scene. Lights danced like a prism of silver,
blue and green reflections drawing him into an ethereal subterranean world – at its heart a giant seashell. Filmy silken ropes like seaweed floated and swayed between fishnets, as if caught by the rhythm of underwater currents. The seabed was covered in golden sand, scattered with shells and driftwood. An open sea chest overflowed with pirate's treasure, gold goblets, strands of pearls and glittering gems.

The pattern of lights changed to focus on the giant seashell. Felix caught his breath as the mouth of the shell opened to reveal the sleeping figure of a girl, her naked arms and shoulders half concealed by wildly flowing golden hair. As if waking from sleep she sighed, echoed by masculine sighs of rapture from the audience.

Felix was rigid with shock. Despite the camouflage of her hair and the flickering lights, Vianna was clearly naked above the waist. With an air of childlike innocence, she examined a glittering necklace from the casket, one hand delicately concealing her breast, seemingly unaware of the tantalising glimpse of the other through the fronds of her hair.

Felix was transfixed. One graceful movement revealed the lower half of her body – a shimmering green tail! The mermaid restlessly flicked her tail as if unaware of the effect on the voyeurs in the audience. The scales began so low on her hips they revealed the blood red ruby nestled in her navel.

Her innocently provocative flicks of her tail produced a wild round of applause from Humphries, an accolade endorsed by every man in the room – except Felix. Thrilled and appalled in equal parts, he was incapable of movement.

Dear God, Vianna has no idea what lust she's arousing. Is there no end to Severin's infamy?

The hair stiffened on the back of his neck when the music of the flute grew insistent. The mermaid extended her arms in an open embrace. The sound that issued from her lips was unearthly, the legendary siren call drawing sailors to their doom.

The Lorelei!
Men rose from their seats, lured by the enchantment of the mermaid's invitation. Felix was ready to die for her.

If only I can possess her for one year, I will die happy.

Severin appeared at the side of the stage to acknowledge the thunderous applause. Vianna lay passive in the shell, her eyes demurely
downcast as if captivated by the glittering necklace entwined between her fingers.

Severin gestured for silence. When the adulation died down, he thanked every gentleman for his generosity, his appreciation of true artistry – and for his patience. ‘But only one can gain the prize. The lady has chosen. The mermaid awaits your pleasure, Sir.'

Severin's sweeping theatrical gesture indicated the Tory politician, but Vianna's voice rang out in an unmistakable identification, ‘Felix L'Estrange!'

Severin's face flashed with anger but unable to counteract her, he recovered quickly to echo the name, forced to lead the applause.

Felix felt as if he was floating above his body, a spirit without wings, unable to measure his shock and happiness when Vianna blew him a kiss across the room. Time stood still. No sooner had he sprung to his feet than everyone in the room was jolted by a loud commotion at the rear of the room. The doors flew open and a giant body catapulted through it to land sprawling at the foot of the stage.

Blewitt!
Felix watched in amazement as the man struggled in vain to lumber to his feet, his hands manacled and legs shackled. The ballroom erupted in chaos when two blue-uniformed police officers strode to the centre of the room. The junior constable stood with baton raised ready to strike any man who resisted.

The senior officer-in charge unfurled a document and read in a voice of authority that resonated around the room. ‘In the name of His Excellency Governor Darling, I hereby issue you, Montague Severin, with a warrant for your arrest on the charges of conducting a lewd public performance and operating a gaming house on the Sabbath.' He peered sternly at Vianna from under his peaked cap. ‘This is clearly an act of intended prostitution under the guise of art, a violation of Ordinances 7342.' He cast a cursory glance at the gentlemen gamblers. ‘Furthermore, I am commanded to take depositions from every man who has witnessed the violations of these laws. You are hereby given notice that each one of you will be called on to give evidence tomorrow morning at the Supreme Courthouse, concerning your attendance at this notorious house of ill repute.'

Instant pandemonium broke out. Men yelled and collided in their haste to exit. Felix stood transfixed by the scene on stage. Guido,
the flautist, knelt by the seashell, his arm protectively around the mermaid's shoulders, proclaiming his innocence in broken English and Italian. Wide-eyed, Vianna shielded her breasts with her hair. Blewitt lay hog-tied on the ground yelling guttural threats in the flash language of the underworld. The young bearded constable booted him each time he attempted to rise.

Severin was grey with shock. ‘This is an appalling mistake officer –'

‘You'll have your chance to present your case in court tomorrow. But I warn you the charges warrant transportation to Moreton Bay for second offenders.'

Severin stood rigid, eyeing the fast vacating room. ‘I'll have you know I'm a friend of the Governor. A member of his entourage is here tonight as my guest.'

‘In that case you'll both be guests at His Majesty's prison tomorrow.' He turned to the young policeman. ‘Don't dally, constable. Remove the Crown evidence forthwith.'

Felix called out with authority, ‘Allow me to escort the lady home, officer.'

‘I'll thank you not to interfere, Sir. That mermaid
is
the Crown evidence.'

Felix was prodded back into a chair by the bearded constable. He watched helplessly as in two strides the constable bounded up onto the stage and despite Vianna's violent struggles to resist arrest, he swung her over his shoulder and marched towards the exit.

She retaliated by clawing his face with her fingernails.

Felix was stunned when a brown furry object flew across the room, revealing the constable's clean-shaven face.
A false beard! It's my damned half-brother!

Without breaking his stride Mungo marched out, bearing the Crown evidence. Felix abandoned all semblance of good manners. ‘Let me pass, damn you! The lady needs my help,' he roared, pushing through the bottleneck in the vestibule.

The road was choked by fleeing carriages. Felix rushed into the middle of the road trying in vain to flag down the horse bolting towards him, before Boadicea galloped off in the direction of the Surry Hills.

The bogus constable's hair was flying in the wind, one hand restraining the captive mermaid slung across his saddle. Vianna was screaming, ‘Put me down, Mungo Quayle – or I'll call the police!'

‘I
am
the police, sweetheart!' Mungo's victorious laughter echoed in Felix's ears as Boadicea disappeared from sight over the hill.

Bellowing with rage and frustration, Felix swore volubly in English, German, French and underworld phrases he didn't even know that he knew.

He turned to find Dr Sandy Gordon, unbuttoning the navy blue jacket that had passed muster as a police uniform in the chaos. ‘I'm surprised to see
you
here, Felix.'

‘I could say the same of you. Shame on you, impersonating a police officer.'

‘Mungo invited me to rescue a lady in distress. He made no mention
you
were part of the plan to help him.'

Felix was beyond all reason. ‘
Help
him? I'll kill the lying son-of-a-bitch!'

•  •  •

Jane Quayle was startled awake by the sound of heavy boots stumbling along the walkway. Mungo's unmistakable voice hissed at someone to be quiet. Convinced that her son's plan to bring home his intended bride had gone awry, she threw a shawl over her nightdress and climbed the ladder to the loft.

Mungo stood in the centre of the room in his shirtsleeves, his face scratched and bleeding, trying in vain to placate the figure writhing on the bed – a mermaid. Her wild yellow hair half covered her face, her eyes rolled above the red neckerchief tied in a gag around her mouth. She clutched a man's navy blue jacket over her naked chest while thrashing her mermaid's tail at Mungo like a lethal weapon.

Motioning the girl to be silent, he untied the neckerchief.

‘Sorry I had to gag you, sweetheart. I didn't want to wake my Mam, she lives next door. Welcome to your new home.'

‘My new what? You expect me to live in a stable?' The mermaid opened her mouth to scream but Mungo was too quick for her. He took her mouth in a passionate kiss that thoroughly silenced her. Jane was pleased to note that the mermaid seemed to be melting in his arms. She decided a discreet cough was in order.

Mungo looked relieved to see her. ‘Don't be alarmed, Mam. This is the bride I told you about. I wanted to get her cleaned up and calmed down before I introduced you. You'll really like her.'

Jane gave a shrug of acceptance. ‘I don't dare ask why she's dressed like that. But release her and let her speak for herself. You're not holding any woman hostage in my house!'

Strictly speaking this wasn't Jane's house but Mungo got the message. He untied the handkerchief binding her wrists and had the grace to look embarrassed.

‘Sorry, darling. But all this was necessary to set you free from Severin.'

Jane tried to eye the girl dispassionately.
She's a beauty right enough. No wonder my son is daft about her. Now let's see if this Fanny is worthy of him.

She was aware that the mermaid was also keenly observing her – her worn nightgown and braided hair. She appeared to be weighing up whether or not to trust her.

‘Thank you, ma'am. Please make Mungo understand that I have no intention of marrying him.' Her voice softened. ‘Although his offer was a most honourable one. He's not a bad man – just a mite crazy. But if he doesn't return me to – to where I live, he'll wreck my whole life. I beg you let me go. I've already signed a contract and a little girl's life – my sister's – depends on me.'

The word ‘contract' caused Mungo's anger to flare. ‘That contract's null and void. You belong to me.'

The girl was surprised when Jane ignored Mungo and directed her words to her in a tone soft with sympathy.

‘You poor lamb. You must be half-dead with fright. I'm Jane Quayle, Mungo's mother. I give you my word as a Manx woman, no one will hold you here against your will, girl. Right now I'll make you a nice hot toddy. And we'll solve all your problems when you've had a good night's sleep. I will personally see you safely returned to your own home tomorrow, if that's your wish.'

Mungo was ready to defend his property. ‘But you don't understand. She's in grave danger of –'

‘As for you,' his mother snapped, ‘you'll keep your hands to yourself. Go sleep in the big house where you belong. I'll sit here and
watch over the lass tonight. But first the toddy, it never fails to calm the nerves.'

The pair were silent, their anger spent, when she returned with a drink heavily laced with brandy and herbs. She fussed over the girl like a mother hen.

‘You've done enough damage for one night, Mungo. Be gone with you.'