The Lace Balcony

by Johanna Nicholls

  But where is the trick? With Severin there is always a trick. I must get off this ship – until I know Jean-Baptiste is on board.

  ‘I had almost forgotten just how charming and persuasive you are, Severin. Shall we go up on deck and discuss the details of the ceremony with the Captain . . . ?’

  Severin coaxed the cockatoo back to perch on his shoulder. ‘Come, Sir Sydney, a dose of fresh sea air will do us both the world of good.’

  He offered her his arm with calm assurance. ‘I knew I could count on you, Vianna. I promise you, you will never live to regret it.’

  Vianna hesitated before taking his arm. Was it her imagination or had Severin placed an emphasis on the phrase ‘you will never live to regret it’?

  Distinctly uneasy, she tried to link the words with another thought that was maddeningly evasive. And then it flashed across her mind. That other curious phrase, casually added to his glorious plans for their future. At journey’s end – India.

  She stumbled up on deck at the moment the two thoughts clicked together. In her mind she heard his words, said long ago to the drunken amusement of his friends. ‘. . . they have the right idea in India. Widows accompany their husbands to their funeral pyres – all the way.’

  Good God! Blewitt always obeys his orders. Suttee, that was the name of the Indian practice. Severin plans for me to be cremated alive with his corpse!

  Chapter 52

  Silent Jack the Waterman was about to leave his wherry and head off to a tavern in The Rocks, his accustomed destination at the end of the working week to drink the day’s profits. Shading his eyes, he strained to identify the two young horsemen who were yelling his name as they galloped hell for leather up to the wharf. Tossing their horses’ reins over the rail, they raced down the length of the wharf, waving their arms and demanding he wait for them.

  Jack knew both by sight but had never seen the pair together. In height and looks they were as similar as brothers, but totally different in name and temperament. The immaculately dressed one he knew to be the haughty heir of Kentigern L’Estrange, Mookaboola’s owner. The other was some kind of family overseer, a garrulous Currency Lad, Mungo Quayle. The pair shouted at him in tandem.

  Silent Jack held up a hand for silence. ‘Hang on a minute. Which of youse blokes am I taking first?’

  ‘Both of us!’

  ‘Can I come too?’ asked a small voice.

  Mungo Quayle whirled around to find the boy tugging at his coat tails.

  He lied to cover his embarrassment. ‘Of course, Toby, mate. I hadn’t forgotten you.’

  ‘A fine father you are,’ Felix mumbled.

  Silent Jack was itching to go. ‘And where would the three of ye be heading?’

  ‘The Bussorah Merchant,’ Toby supplied helpfully. Seeing Felix’s bemused expression, he added, ‘I heard Cockney George tell Mwarree.’

  ‘Mwarree? Who on earth is that?’ Felix asked.

  Toby was quick to explain. ‘That’s Jane Quayle. It’s a Manx word for Grandma. She said my feet prove I’m her grandson, because we have the same funny toes – like the beginning of a mermaid’s tail.’

  Felix looked stunned but Silent Jack was impressed. ‘Aye, that’s a fine story, right enough. I’ve a mind to be telling it to an old salt I know who claims he’s seen mermaids himself and lived to tell the tale.’ He turned to the brothers. ‘So now the lad’s got things sorted out, climb aboard and I’ll take you to the Bussorah Merchant. This is me last trip for the day. I don’t want the Lord Nelson to run dry before I drink me fair share of grog.’

  • • •

  Mungo held firmly to Toby as the wherry rocked through the waves.

  ‘Keep a sharp eye out for the Blue Peter, mate – the square blue flag with a white circle in the middle. That shows the vessel’s getting ready to depart.’

  Felix anxiously scanned the harbour. ‘What if she’s already sailed? Molly flatly refuses to marry me unless Vianna’s her bridesmaid. Mutti says it’s normal for brides to become tearful for no good reason.’

  ‘It’s a damned good reason, if you ask me,’ Mungo retorted under his breath.

  Toby was the first to spot the Blue Peter and the distant figure on the deck of the Bussorah Merchant. ‘There she is!’ he exclaimed, waving his arms to attract Vianna’s attention.

  Mungo’s throat constricted at the sight of her hair turned into a golden halo by the sun, and the way she covered her mouth in astonishment at the sight of them, returning Toby’s wave eagerly, like one child to another.

  Silent Jack was quick to size up the situation. ‘The gent beside her don’t seem too pleased to see you blokes, but.’

  ‘The feeling is mutual,’ Mungo said.

  When the wherry pulled up alongside the vessel, Mungo wasted no time in guiding Toby safely on board, leaving Felix behind.

  ‘Hang on a minute. Who’s going to pay me?’ Silent Jack demanded.

  Felix was flustered. ‘Wait for us. We’re not passengers. In a few minutes there will be four of us on the return trip.’

  ‘Aye, so ye say, but I’ve had passengers piss off without paying a farthing. Pay me now or I’ll not be waiting for ye.’

  Felix was stunned by the man’s insolence. ‘I beg your pardon. I’ll have you know I’m a gentleman!’

  ‘They’re the worst kind. Seem to think us blokes can survive on salt air.’

  Jack kept his palm open while Felix fished around in the pockets of his coat and vest and emptied the coins into the waterman’s hands.

  They looked up, the air rent by the sudden outburst of angry male voices and a woman’s shrill cry, ‘No!’

  Recognising Vianna’s voice Felix wasted no time in heaving himself on board.

  • • •

  The moment the conflict broke out, seamen emerged from all directions, drawn by the promise of a brawl. Vianna immediately used her body to shield Toby from the likely sight of violence, but when Mungo’s language turned purple she also hastily clamped her hands over Toby’s ears.

  The portly figure of the Ship’s Master immediately descended on the scene, his salty, whisky-edged voice demanding to know what the hell was happening.

  ‘You’re not my passengers. Ye have no business on board my ship. I demand you leave on the double – or you’ll find yourselves marched ashore under muskets.’ He made the mistake of poking his finger into Mungo’s chest.

  ‘Piss off, mate,’ Mungo roared.

  Felix offered profuse apologies. ‘This is a family matter, Captain. Please excuse my brother. He’s Currency – you understand, I’m sure.’

  Severin seized control of the situation. ‘These men are known to me, Captain. Both are wanted by the law for impersonating police officers and abducting this lady. I advise you to turn them over to the law immediately. Miss Francis is my future wife. As arranged, we shall be married as soon as we put to sea.’

  The Captain eyed Vianna warily. ‘Do you confirm this is true, Miss Francis?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking – yes, and no,’ Vianna answered, ‘but these young men are far from criminals. They are the sons of a leading colonist, Kentigern L’Estrange, a friend of the Governor. I’m sure you’ll agree, Captain, this young lad and I do not deserve to be put in fear of musket fire. With all your experience in handling men, I feel sure you can settle this matter calmly.’

  Mungo grunted. She’s like Helen of bloody Troy. Her smile would launch a thousand ships – or sink them.

  The Captain visibly swelled with pride. ‘You can count on me, Miss Francis.’

  Felix bowed to the Captain. ‘You have my word as a gentleman, Captain. I shall return this lady tomorrow in good time before your ship sails. Right now it is imperative that she attend a family wedding.’

  Mungo added the explanation for Vianna’s benefit. ‘Molly’s.’

  Vianna eyed him coolly. ‘You don’t need me to get you to the altar.’

  Mungo looked innocent. ‘Not me. I’m only the best man.’

&nb
sp; ‘Molly is marrying me, of course,’ Felix explained. ‘On condition I bring you back to be her bridesmaid. Please!’ he pleaded. ‘She’s easily upset. You know how young brides are.’

  Vianna hesitated. I feel I’m being manipulated – but maybe I can make it work to my advantage.

  Severin loudly proclaimed to the Captain his social status and legal rights. Vianna noticed that the highly volatile cockatoo had flown from Severin’s shoulder to perch on a pine box. She was touched by the sight of Toby’s enchantment on hearing Sir Sydney clear utter the human words, ‘Have you got a biscuit?’

  Severin played his ace. ‘I assure you Captain, this is a prime example of colonial skulduggery. I warn you Lord Bathurst will hear about it directly from me and will take appropriate action. I demand that the marriage proceed as soon as we put to sea. This young lady will be Lady Severin by sundown tomorrow.’

  Mungo stepped forward. ‘Not so fast. Captain, you’d better be aware that if you sanction a marriage between these two, you’ll be guilty of abetting a bigamist!’

  ‘That’s a lie!’ Severin proclaimed. ‘I have been a widower for ten years.’

  Mungo lied with quiet authority. ‘Not according to the new Governor Sir Richard Bourke, Captain. He’s arrived with letters from Severin’s wife in London. The woman’s been trying to trace this man for years. The villain left her stranded when he was transported on the Mangles in ’22.’

  The name of this notorious convict transport carried the ring of truth.

  Mungo pressed his advantage. ‘Little wonder his wife couldn’t trace him. The Honourable Montague Severin is nothing but a fancy alias. His real name is Smith.’

  Severin’s faced turned puce. Roaring in denial he threw himself bodily at Mungo, knocking him to the deck, his hands around Mungo’s throat.

  The Captain fired his pistol in the air and ordered his men to separate them.

  Vianna was shaken. Either Severin or Mungo is lying. But what does it matter? This is my chance to get off this vessel – until Jean-Baptiste is on board.

  Suddenly reminded that she must protect Toby, she caught sight of him on his hands and knees, stroking Sir Sydney’s ruffled feathers to calm him. ‘Don’t be scared, fella. I’ll look after you.’

  The Captain gave Vianna his full attention. ‘I regret you’ve become involved in this circus, Miss Francis. Is there any truth in this chap’s extraordinary accusation?’

  Vianna moved to his side and said confidentially, ‘It’s a long story, Captain. But to the best of my knowledge, this gentleman did indeed have to travel here on the Mangles.’ The discreet way she lowered her eyes confirmed his convict status.

  Clever girl. Mungo turned to the Captain, ‘So, until we return the lady to you tomorrow, we’ll be off.’

  He whirled around to take charge of Toby, to find the boy had vanished. Severin stood straightening his frockcoat and arguing with the Captain. Mungo and Felix began a frantic search for the boy.

  It was Vianna who heard the thin cry far above them. She shaded her eyes and pointed to the top of the masthead. Looking like a small dot at that height, Toby clung to the top of the rope ladder, one hand stretched towards a cross beam on which Sir Sydney strutted and squawked, his yellow crest fanned out in high dudgeon.

  Mungo’s face blanched. ‘Jesus wept!’

  The small voice quivered as he called down to Mungo. ‘Cocky’s frightened, but I can’t quite reach him.’

  The Captain’s patience ran dry. He ordered a midshipman, ‘Get that lad down before he breaks his neck!’

  ‘Thanks, but this is a father’s job,’ Mungo said and instantly began to scale the rope ladder, calling out instructions to Toby at each foothold.

  ‘Sit tight, son. I’m coming up to get you. Don’t move. Don’t grab the bird. And above all – don’t look down!’

  ‘I can’t move. I’m stuck. My legs are all wobbly.’

  ‘So are mine, mate. But I’ll get you down safe and sound. Just watch me.’

  Vianna covered her mouth with her hands, filled with fear and love and admiration, knowing that at that height, blown by the wind that was rocking the vessel, Mungo must be sickened by vertigo.

  In Toby’s eyes he’s a hero. God willing I’m leaving the boy in good hands.

  Higher and higher Mungo climbed, chatting to Toby with whatever words came into his head, seemingly as casual as if he was taking a stroll in Hyde Park.

  Sir Sydney clearly had other ideas. The cockatoo began to march up and down on the yardarm, strutting his stuff in a cheerful rendition of ‘Greensleeves’.

  ‘Alas my love, you do me wrong,’ Sir Sydney chanted, ‘to cast me off – to cast me off –’ He paused. ‘You damned fool bird!’ he cried – in what Vianna recognised was an imitation of Severin’s voice.

  Mungo supplied the missing word ‘Discourteously!’ to the bird as he moved up a rung, now only a few feet short of Toby. The cockatoo seized on the word and moved just out of Mungo’s reach, chanting it.

  Toby let out a plaintive cry. ‘Please! Save the cocky!

  ‘Listen, Toby. Cockatoos are clever birds. He can fly – and we can’t. So if we can’t reach him now, we’ll have to go down first. I’ll get him later, that’s a promise.’

  Vianna’s heart was in her mouth when Mungo said, ‘Do you trust me, lad?’

  Toby nodded.

  ‘Right, so here we go.’ Mungo edged up to shield the boy’s body with his own. He stretched out his hand and touched the bird’s feathers, talking so softly none could distinguish the words. Then the cockatoo stepped tentatively onto his fingers and took up his perch on Mungo’s shoulders.

  ‘We’re going down slowly, mate, one step at a time. How about you show Vianna how clever you are. She taught you to count, right? Easy does it.’

  Vianna found herself counting along with Toby, her breath choking in her chest as they descended each rung. Halfway down Mungo lost his footing. There was a chorus of gasps. The cockatoo flew off his shoulder into the rigging.

  ‘Don’t worry, Toby. He’ll come down when he’s hungry.’

  With agonising slowness Vianna watched their descent, the boy shielded by his father’s body, until finally both were safely planted on the deck, accompanied by the lusty cheers of the seamen.

  She ran to Toby and kissed him on both cheeks. ‘Toby, you are the bravest lad who ever lived.’

  Vianna wanted to reach out and kiss Mungo but she could do no more than stare dumbly into his strained grey face, fighting against the sensation of drowning in the depths of those teasing blue eyes.

  ‘You were pretty good yourself, Mungo.’

  Mungo broke the spell with a short laugh. ‘I was scared witless every step of the way.’

  Sir Sydney flew down in a spiral to land on Severin’s shoulder.

  Mungo seized the moment. He motioned Felix to take charge of Toby. Then stood eye to eye with Severin.

  ‘I’d tell you exactly what I think of you, but I’m training my kid to behave like a real gentleman. You’ve got your bird back. I’ll bring the lady back here tomorrow.’

  ‘You have my word, Severin,’ Vianna said quickly. She leaned across and kissed his cheek. ‘Until tomorrow.’

  ‘I never doubted it,’ Severin said, his eyes cold and confident. The reason was suddenly clear. Blewitt was fast approaching, flashing his brass knuckledusters.

  Vianna saw that Felix had already disappeared over the side with Toby locked in his arms. She did not argue when Mungo grabbed her hand and ran to the side of the ship and looked down. Clinging to the ladder a few feet above the waterline, Felix looked up, exasperated.

  ‘Silent Jack has left us high and dry. No time to wait. It’s only a few yards to the shore. I can make it with Toby. Can you?’

  Severin was yelling out, ‘Stop them! That lady can’t swim!’

  Mungo turned to Vianna. ‘You can, can’t you?’

  Vianna’s heart sank. ‘Never tried.’

  Blewitt was running along the
deck threatening to kill Mungo.

  Vianna looked down into a harbour so deep it might well stretch to England.

  ‘Trust me,’ Mungo said.

  ‘Do I have a choice?’

  ‘None.’

  Vianna slipped her hand into his. Together they leapt out into space, flying like birds into the face of the sun, where the blue of the water met the blue of the sky.

  • • •

  The four of them spluttered water as the tide washed them ashore. Arms linked around each other’s shoulders they crossed the snow-white sands of the little beach to collapse on the verge of native grasses.

  Vianna followed in the wake of the others, scarcely able to walk under the weight of her waterlogged gown and petticoats, peering through the wild tangle of seaweed matted hair – that Mungo had grabbed to keep her head above water and tow her to shore.

  The little boy walked hand in hand between Mungo and Felix, linking the half-brothers in a strange trio, like three bedraggled musketeers.

  It seems Toby has united them and brought some measure of peace.

  Felix turned his head. ‘Thank you for coming, Vianna. Don’t worry, a gown has been organised for you to wear to the wedding.’

  Vianna gave a non-committal nod. This is beginning to feel like a family conspiracy. Why were they so sure I’d agree to come?

  Severin called her name across the water, a plaintive note in his voice she had never heard before.

  ‘Till tomorrow, Vianna. Promise me!’

  From the safety of the little crescent of sand, Vianna called back. ‘I promise.’

  There’s only one promise you’ll get from me, Severin. I will not be travelling to India with you! But I’m not wasting a free passage to England either.’

  Out of Toby’s earshot, she hissed at the brothers. ‘I’ve only come back for Molly’s wedding – nothing more, you understand?’

  ‘Agreed,’ Felix said quickly.

  ‘Agreed,’ Mungo said through gritted teeth. ‘And you understand. We only went to all this trouble for Molly’s sake. You’ll be on board that ship tomorrow if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming.’