The Lace Balcony (44 page)

‘Yes, but Vianna will see that
I'm
the man who makes things happen. I change the future, rewrite history. Felix would never be game to pull off a stunt like this.'

‘No, but Felix will never end up in Moreton Bay,' she snapped.

Mungo held back a note of exasperation. ‘Don't back out on me now, Mam. ‘Win or lose her, I'm playing my final cards.'

Jane ruffled his hair. ‘You're such a dodger, lad. You just might pull it off.'

•  •  •

Mungo observed their arrival from his mother's window. Felix was nothing if not punctual. The L'Estrange carriage drew up on the hour of five sharp at the entrance to the Little Rockingham Street alley, and Felix escorted Vianna to the side entrance to the stables. Her duty done, Molly returned to the main house.

Mungo pressed himself against the kitchen wall, his knuckles white, listening to Vianna's words of thanks to Felix.

‘A most fascinating afternoon. You talked so knowledgably about the stars and – nebulae, is that the word? Even the Governor's Astronomer Mr Duncan was greatly impressed by your expertise – as I was.'

Mungo gritted his teeth.
You've been trained well, Vianna. Know just how to bolster a man's ego.

‘I feel sure you will do your duty and stand up for every dance tonight. Eligible gentlemen are always needed to play their role so that young ladies are not left without partners,' Vianna added coolly.

Mungo smiled.
Bless her, she's got that down pat from Jane Austen's novels.

Felix stammered a response, discomforted by Vianna's dignified acceptance that she would always be excluded from gatherings of the Exclusives. Mungo was touched by her attempted pretence in telling Felix that she would spend the evening reading a novel – that in truth she was unable to read.

I'll have you reading Pride and Prejudice before summer's end, girl.

Felix proceeded down the garden path to the west wing. The moment he was out of sight, Mungo mentally grabbed his ace card and sprang up the ladder. He bowed with the flourish of a courtier. ‘I bring you a special delivery from His Excellency Lieutenant-Governor Ralph Darling.'

She eyed the envelope warily. ‘Is this one of your practical jokes, Mungo? If it isn't, it must mean I'm ordered to court to face charges for my final performance at Severin House.'

‘Neither. Today is His Majesty King William IV's birthday.'

‘I'd have been blind not to have noticed. The whole of Sydney Town is covered with red, white and blue bunting, flags flying from every flagpole, cannons firing salutes. I wish our new ‘Sailor King' well. It's just that the whole town is celebrating. All I've got planned is writing on a slate and going to bed early.'

‘You're dead wrong, Cinderella. The best is yet to come. Open it.'

She looked at the gilt-edged invitation with growing confusion. ‘What's this? Fanny? That's me! What does the rest of it say?'

Mungo stood as close behind her as he dared, one arm around her shoulder, underlining each word with his finger as he read it aloud.

‘The Governor and Mrs Darling request the Pleasure of . . .' he nudged her, ‘go on, you read it.'

‘Miss Fanny By-ron!' she said in wonder.

‘Right. Miss Fanny Byron's company on Saturday the 23rd of April to a ball and supper to celebrate His Majesty's birthday . . . and it's signed by Darling himself.'

Vianna bombarded him with questions he had no time to answer before he was suddenly confronted by female logic. ‘How on earth was I invited? And who knows my name was Fanny Byron? . . . What on earth will I
wear
? And what will I do if gentlemen of Quality recognise me from Severin House?'

‘Hold your horses! My mam has everything in readiness. And as far as Severin's gamblers are concerned you'll be formally announced as Miss Fanny Byron by the major-domo as you enter the ballroom and you'll knock the spots off every female in the room. The gentlemen
will fight duels for the chance to dance with you. Like Cinderella, you'll be the belle of the ball!'

Vianna's eyes were shining. She wanted to believe him. ‘Will you dance with me? I won't be frightened if you're by my side.'

Mungo rested his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, telling himself he must not kiss her – not yet anyway. A lot might happen before dawn.

‘I'll never forget you said that. Those words will keep me warm while I wait to drive you home.'

‘You mean you're not invited? That's not fair! Felix will be there.'

‘That's Felix's good fortune. Mine is knowing that you'll have a story to tell your grandchildren.'

I almost said ‘our grandchildren'. I must be careful to lead her step-by-step.

Vianna suddenly flinched and turned away. ‘And I'll never forget Mungo Quayle was the man who took me to my first ball.'

‘Right, so hurry downstairs. Mother's waiting to make you even more beautiful. Hey, why the tears?'

Vianna brushed them aside and forced a smile. ‘I don't know how you pulled it off. But I suspect you jumped through hoops to give me something impossible. You're a very nice man, Mungo. Perhaps too nice for your own good.'

‘I'll try and work that out later. Now off with you, girl. I have to put the final touches to your carriage. Boadicea is taking us there.'

At the bottom of the stairs Vianna paused to look up at him. From his bird's eye view from the top step, Mungo was momentarily distracted by the enticing glimpse of the valley between her breasts, framed by the lace collar of her gown.

‘One other thing, Mungo. Don't invitations say that an answer is requested? How could mine be accepted if the Governor's secretary never even sent me one?'

She suspects it's a ruse.
Mungo refused to admit he had overlooked that point.

‘What a clever girl you are. The answer is simple. You present your invitation on arrival and they'll announce you by that name – Miss Fanny Byron. If there's any humming and ha-ing, carry it off like the
born actress you are.' He mimicked a female falsetto voice. ‘My name is not on your list? There must be some mistake. My acceptance was delivered by courier. My guardian, Lord Hazelnut, has just arrived in the Colony from the Foreign Office.'

Vianna was laughing. ‘You're outrageous. Do you think that will work?'

‘Absolutely. No one in this colony, even Governor Darling, would risk offending a British title – in case it's someone Lord Bathurst has sent out from the Foreign Office to check up on them. Remember, Darling is at the fag end of his term as Governor. He's not going to risk a mistake that could jeopardise his pension.'

‘You make everything sound so plausible, Mungo.'

‘It is,' he said firmly.
No need to remind her that's what landed me in Moreton Bay.
‘What's more, you'll look so irresistible I reckon Governor Darling himself will ask you for the privilege of standing up with you in a cotillion.'

‘I'll never forget you for this, Mungo Quayle.'

Vianna's eyes were wistful as she blew him a little kiss then picked up her skirts and crossed the walkway to disappear inside Jane Quayle's kitchen.

Back in his schoolroom chambers Mungo stripped off the slops he had worn to clean the coach, scrubbed up in a tub of water his mother had left for him and changed into the dark suit and cape that would serve as his livery for the evening.

When he saw Felix stride across the Bridge of Sighs, he waited for the sound of his departure in the family carriage before making his way to harness Boadicea. Mungo gave a satisfied grin as he passed through the walkway and the sound floated down of two excited females talking and laughing together.

Tonight is a night to remember. Anything could happen – and probably will. For any other girl it would be a disaster. But my girl has the guts to pull it off. She'll bedazzle them.

•  •  •

The moon bathed Little Rockingham Street with a magical silver coat that transformed the rough edges of the cabins and coach houses lining the long narrow street, only wide enough to allow one carriage to pass along it.

Seated on the traditional coachman's perch, his borrowed gold-braided tricorn hat set at a rakish angle, Mungo whistled a Gaelic air as he waited in the moonlight for Vianna to emerge through the iron gate.

Looking at that prison-like door, Mungo was struck by the irony of the dual purpose of this door and the garden path that connected these servants' quarters with the twin mansions of the L'Estrange family.

In childhood Mungo had accepted how often the Master trod this path on his nocturnal visits to his mother. Now it was the link between the two halves of his own double life, living as a ‘guest' in his father's mansion, but having access to the loft to visit Vianna.
History is repeating itself.

The clang of the iron door jolted him from his reverie.

His throat constricted at the sight of her. A princess walked through the gate, his mother close behind her. Mungo was shocked, but entranced by the transformation. The face was Vianna's face, but the hair was jet black, piled high with random curls falling artlessly to frame an expression that was a delicious blend of wantonness and innocence.

Her bare shoulders and the discreet curve of her breast gleamed in the moonlight that shimmered on the white silk dress. Draped over her arms was a silver-threaded shawl. Long white gloved hands carried a lace fan – and her invitation!

Mungo's love struggled with a twinge of jealousy at sight of the necklace at her throat – a full circle of diamond flowers each with a pearl at its heart.
Was this a love token from Felix?

‘Don't you know me, Mungo?' Vianna asked, nervously touching a dark curl. ‘Will I pass muster amongst all those ladies of Quality?'

For once Mungo was bereft of words. The little cleft in her chin reminded him of Francis Bacon's definition of beauty: ‘There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.'
Dead right, Bacon!'

Finally he turned to his mother. ‘Full marks, Mam.'

Jane recognised his ambiguous reaction and quickly filled the breach.

‘She'll be a blonde again tomorrow, Mungo, this is just a wig for the night. And the necklace is
Vianna's
– delivered by Wanda. The clasp was broken, so I've sewn the two ends together.'

He said the words from his heart. ‘You are unbelievably beautiful, Fanny Byron!'

About to step up into the carriage, Vianna impulsively kissed Jane on both cheeks. ‘I don't remember my mother. But I thank you on her behalf.'

The gesture caught Mungo and Jane by surprise.

Jane looked up at her, now seated inside the carriage. ‘She would be very proud of you.' She turned to Mungo. ‘Don't let this go to your head son – you're the handsomest coachman God ever put on the planet. But don't go drinking grog to keep the cold out while you're waiting to drive her home. If you're not back by two of the clock, I'll send the traps out to search for you.' She wagged a warning finger at Vianna. ‘I'm only half-joshing. If he gives you any trouble, girl, he'll have me to answer to.'

‘Don't worry, I'll take care of him for you,' Vianna said softly.

Mungo climbed up onto the driver's seat, and drove off in style.

He called down to Vianna, ‘Don't mind my Mam. Ever since I returned from Moreton Bay, she's been worried I'd do something to get nicked again.'

‘So am I!' Vianna said pointedly, and their laughter broke the tension.

•  •  •

The finest carriages in the Colony formed a sedate procession along the carriageway to the entrance of Government House. Mungo behaved like a postilion, born to service, as he assisted Vianna to alight. As she carefully lifted her skirts just high enough to clear the stone steps to the entrance, Mungo watched every move she made.

If I'm in luck, one day I'll be doing this as a father, shepherding our daughters to balls. But I mustn't jump the gun. I haven't got Vianna bedded yet.

Mungo as a rule prided himself that only fools were superstitious, yet he needed a sign.
If she turns back and smiles at me – she's mine.

Vianna stood framed in the entrance, her back to him. He frowned when a scarlet-coated officer politely gestured to Vianna to precede him. To the manner born, Vianna acknowledged his gallantry then looked back over her shoulder at Mungo. Her lips curved in a faint smile as if to say, ‘So far so good'. Next moment she was lost amongst the guests who thronged the vestibule.

Mungo gave a sigh of relief.
She's cleared the first hurdle. The orchestra's playing and everything's going to plan. All I've got to do now is prevent myself freezing to death, sitting like Jacky on my perch waiting for the end of the ball.

A trio of laughing red-coated officers passed him, their uniforms adapted for dancing, with breeches and buckled shoes instead of boots. The colour of the facing on their uniforms differed with each regiment and indicated they were the latest to arrive for a term of duty in the Colony. He tried to remind himself that these ruddy-faced young soldiers had arrived with a clean slate – no personal guilt for the treatment of convicts. He must control his automatic reaction of anathema to their uniform.

Red coats are going to be with us as long as the British Empire survives. I've got to learn to live with them.

At the approach of another carriage, Mungo drew back into the shadows, then turned up his coat collar to conceal his face as he recognised the L'Estrange coat of arms. With the dignity of a royal prince, Felix made his way to the entrance.

His carriage left before us. I wonder why he's late.