The Lace Balcony (36 page)

Felix flinched but recognised that this was partly justified. ‘Better that I should be her protector than any other man.'

‘I could say the same of myself! Point is Vianna was Severin's drawcard. When he wakes up that our police raid was a hoax, he's not going to take it lying down. So what do we do to protect her from him?'

Mollified by the realisation Vianna was safe and close at hand, Felix reluctantly shared his knowledge. ‘Severin's already bolted. His mansion's in the hands of bailiffs. I have no doubt Vianna will honour my contract,' Felix said stiffly, ‘she announced
my
name as her chosen protector.'

‘Only because I didn't have the money to offer
my
contract.' He jerked his thumb in the direction of the loft. ‘But possession is nine tenths of the law, Felix.'

‘Unless it's an act of kidnapping!'

Mungo stalled for time. ‘I agree with Father. We must give her time to calm down. No pressure. No seduction. Agreed?'

Felix sprang to his feet. ‘While she resides under
your
roof? Who's the hypocrite now?'

‘I'll remain living here. My mother is Vianna's watchdog. There'll be no funny business with my mam in charge – from either of us. Jane Quayle is a Methodist, remember?' Mungo said ruefully.

‘It would seem a most flexible moral code,' Felix said and instantly flushed with embarrassment at this unintentional slur on Jane's name. ‘I apologise, no insult intended to your mother – only to her son.'

Mungo was no longer smiling. ‘No doubt about you, Felix. Like mother like son.'

‘Don't forget you're a free man thanks to
my
mother's intervention. She may be unable to forget past history,' he said pointedly, in reference to Jane Quayle, ‘but she admires your courage above all.'

‘Will paid the full price. I only did what was necessary to survive. A lot of water has flowed under the Bridge of Sighs since then.'

Felix accepted Mungo's bravado. Ashamed of his earlier, wild insinuation about Logan's murder, he tried to make amends. ‘You were saved from the gallows and rescued from Moreton Bay. Isn't that a sure sign of God's love? You have many good years ahead of you, time to rebuild your life on a new code of ethics.'
God willing, hundreds of miles from Vianna.

Mungo gripped the arms of his chair as if to prevent himself belting Felix across the room.

‘Ethics? God's love? You bloody fool. I saved my own damned life. And I'd face a thousand stripes of the cat before I'd ask for God's help – or yours!'

The next moment Mungo resumed the light, brittle manner he had learned as a child to camouflage his pain. ‘As a kid we were told God is Everywhere. Well there was no sign of Him at Moreton Bay.' Mungo shrugged. ‘But I did invent a survival code. I reckon any man who can survive Patrick Logan can survive
anything.
‘But I'll burn in hell before I relinquish what belongs to me.'

‘No man could doubt your courage, Mungo. Yet I pity you. On the eve of your execution you laughed in the face of death. Did your reprieve teach you nothing about God's mercy and forgiveness?'

‘You know your problem, Felix? You play life by the Ten Commandments and expect to be rewarded. There are no rules in a penal colony – the Exclusives grab the blacks' land and make a fortune from free convict labour. If God exists, He's too busy to hand out justice and mercy to those of us at the bottom of the heap.'

Felix managed a tolerant smile. ‘I see you still cling to your simplistic ideas about atheism.'

‘Wake up, Felix. To survive in this Colony you need to make your own rules. When I saw the Dishonourable Severin exploiting Vianna, I had one choice. Take her first – argue later!'

‘But it didn't quite work to plan, did it?' Felix said coldly. ‘I shan't force Vianna to honour my contract but given time she will see the merit of it.'

‘The last time we shook hands on a deal to play fair and square – we both cheated. As far as I'm concerned all bets are off.'

Felix flushed with anger. Their eyes locked in silence.

Mungo was dangerously calm. ‘Winner Take All.'

Felix rose with dignity but Mungo's words halted him as he reached the door. ‘Father was involved in your contract, so he's fully aware of Vianna's notoriety. If you want to conceal that from Mrs Less, we'd best refer to her as Fanny – her true name, until she makes her choice.'

Felix departed, mentally cursing Governor Darling for saving Mungo from the gallows.
Yet Mungo's right about one thing. How long before Mutti discovers the Sydney Venus is living right under her nose – and that she's agreed publicly to be my mistress?

•  •  •

Later that morning when Felix and his father were absent from the house on business, Mungo was approached by Cook's daughter
Molly, bearing a parcel addressed to Madame Francis, care of Felix L'Estrange.

‘Hey, when did this arrive, Molly?'

‘A black girl left it at the servants' entrance. Who shall I give it to?'

Mungo seized his chance. ‘Leave it with me, Molly. I'll see it's delivered.'

Mungo hurried to the stables, only to be bailed up by his mother. ‘I thought I made it clear you and Felix were both to give the mermaid time alone. I'll deliver that box.'

Mungo stood cap in hand. ‘Who's going to read the letter to her?'

Jane capitulated with a sigh. ‘All right, read the letter. But keep your hands to yourself or I'll boot you out the door, and that's a promise.'

It was strange to see Vianna wearing his mother's simple white blouse and handmade skirt of many colours, her hair loosely coiled on the nape of her neck. Her eyes were heavily shadowed by traces of mauve, suggesting a sleepless night. At first glance she looked like a little girl lost.

Her voice however had a distinct edge. ‘To what do I owe this honour, Mungo Quayle? I thought you'd be in court giving evidence about my lewd performance.'

‘Don't worry. You're safe,' he said lightly. ‘I only came to deliver this parcel brought here by your lady's maid –'

‘Wanda? Where is she? Why can't I see her?' She rose in agitation.

‘Sorry, she delivered it and disappeared. If I'd known I'd have brought her to you.' He added gently, ‘It came with a letter. Would you like me to read it?'

Vianna wasn't ready to accept any favours. She opened the box and made a rapid check of the contents: a white gown, delicate underclothing, a shawl, heeled dancing slippers, a bonnet, a parasol, gloves, a small reticule and, wrapped in a silk scarf, a brunette theatrical wig. Mungo caught the flash of sadness that shadowed her face when she discovered a child's silk dress.

‘I made this for Daisy. Severin's unlikely ever to reveal where she is, thanks to your interference.'

‘Forgive me, I didn't know.'

The box also contained a small bottle and two books. One was a diary, the other a copy of Jane Austen's
Mansfield Park.
He was touched by the way she reverently turned the pages of the novel that she could not read.

‘It's a great story. The heroine's name is Fanny, isn't it? Perhaps we could read it together?' he asked hopefully.

He read the flash of temptation in her smile and knew suddenly that if anyone could help him seduce Vianna it would be Jane Austen.

‘Perhaps,' she said with a smile of acceptance. On handing him Wanda's letter, she gestured to him to take a seat.

God bless you, Wanda.
He was caught by surprise at the meticulous spelling and grammar coming from the pen of an Aboriginal servant.

‘My Lady,

I do hope this finds you at the address on Mr L'Estrange's contract. I was shocked by the events of last night which gave me no chance to speak with you before the police officers took you away. I went to the courthouse to find out what happened to you. It was strange to find there were no charges laid of any kind. Here are a few things I managed to rescue before the bailiffs arrived. Inside the reticule you'll find the necklace with the broken clasp you asked me to take to the jeweller's to mend. Master Severin and Blewitt have disappeared, so I must search for work. May your gentleman treat you well. I shall never forget your kindness to me.

Always your friend,

Wanda'

Mungo was moved to see that Vianna's eyes were brimming with tears. He hesitated before reading the postscript – but he had no right to withhold it.

‘P.S.
This is the last bottle of physic Severin made you take each month. If your new gentleman takes proper care of you, I trust you won't need it.'

Vianna quickly averted her eyes. ‘Wanda was loyal to the end.'

‘It isn't the end, girl,' he said softly, ‘it's the beginning of something better – whatever you choose to do with your life.' He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘No pressure from me. But allow me to help you. You'd be doing me a favour if we could read this book together. May I call on you tomorrow?'

Vianna smiled through her tears. ‘No harm in that, I suppose.'

Mungo remembered to bow politely before taking his leave down the ladder.

Jane Quayle was waiting for him in the walkway, her arms akimbo.

‘My hands never left my sides, Mam,' he assured her.

‘Be off with you,' she said with a grudging smile, ‘You're like your father as a young man. He could charm the birds from the trees.' But she walked away shaking her head as if she didn't much fancy her son's chances.

•  •  •

Mungo had timed his next move perfectly. Albruna L'Estrange was about to depart in her carriage for the unknown destination that servants' gossip claimed she visited each week. Her face registered faint suspicion when Mungo hurried to her carriage.

‘Mrs L'Estrange, I have a favour to ask. Not for me. A young girl badly needs help. I reckon you could hold the key to the problem.'

‘What is it, Quayle? She needs work? I am late for my appointment.'

‘No, it's a delicate matter. Please treat it as confidential. I don't want to raise her hopes. I came to you because of your work for the Benevolent Asylum.'

‘So?' she asked warily.

‘I'm searching for a little girl who's about six. Daisy was fostered or adopted without her sister's permission. She's heartbroken but has no funds to finance a search. I promised I'd find the kiddie. Will you help me?'

‘You may travel with me as far as the crossroads at South Head Road. So you had best state your case in brief.'

Mungo outlined the known facts and built up the emotional side of the story, skirting around its more scandalous aspects. At the conclusion, Albruna L'Estrange leaned forward and her voice softened.

‘The loss of a child is a terrible thing. I will do what I can to help you.'

When she set him down at the crossroads, Mungo had the sudden conviction he was seeing his father's dragon lady for the first time, from a very different angle.

The woman's human after all. I've got her hooked. But how would she react if she knew she was helping my cause – against Felix's plan to have a woman in keeping? I reckon Mrs Less would be on
my
side. Get thee behind me, Satan!

Mungo grinned as he looked up at the sky that was as wide and blue as the Pacific Ocean, with never a cloud in sight.

Maybe there's a God after all, keeping an eye on us blokes at the bottom of the heap.

Alone in the loft, Vianna stared at her reflection in the mirror. Dressed in Jane Quayle's sun-faded, hand-me-down dress and devoid of artifice, rouge, elaborately styled hair and all the other trappings of a courtesan, Vianna Francis was suddenly a stranger.

‘What would Fanny Byron have done if she had never gone to bed with Severin that first night? There's a good chance I wouldn't have been sucked into his world – and I wouldn't have lost Daisy.'

Vanished, along with Severin House, was every trace of luxury – her wardrobe of fashionable gowns, the jewels once locked in Severin's safe, her beloved landau and horses, her lady's maid and one true confidante, Wanda. Gone too was free access to the colony's leading dressmakers, mantua makers, shoemakers and hairdressers. She had never needed to carry more than a few token coins in her reticule.

Now I'm as dependent as any street beggar on the kindness and charity of strangers. All I have left is my body and the tricks that Severin taught me – how to tease and please men – and play them off against each other to gain what I want.

Her dependency on Severin had become total. As much as she hated and feared him, his absence left a void that shocked her.

I'm even feeling anxious stepping outside this absurd prison that smells of hay and horses.

She reminded herself that a true courtesan like Madame Amora would play Felix and Mungo off against each other.
But what if I had a plan of my own – that's not dependent on any man?'

As there was no one to advise her how to play her best cards, she decided the key was observation. She must understand the strange balance of power between the powerful unseen L'Estrange master of Rockingham Hall, Felix, his son and heir, and the son of their servant, Jane Quayle, Mungo, who for some reason seemed to have been granted temporary residence there.

Her one consolation was the practical, good humour of Jane
Quayle, but even Jane's kindness was tempered by wariness. Mungo's mother was not without bias.

Seated on the cast-iron Juliet balcony at the rear of the loft, drying her hair in the sun, Vianna looked across the garden at the twin mansions – the seat of power in her new world. The scene was one of unusual beauty. The summer sun was climbing the sky, a fireball of hot rainbow colours that bled across the eastern horizon. The garden below lay like a cloistered oasis between the twin mansions and the two humble cottages.