The Hanging of Mary Ann

by Angela Badger

  For in that alone Frank de Rossi had been unable to fulfil his dreams. No flowers bloomed at this time of year so he’d had to make do with the branches of gum and fronds of she-oaks.

  “The Ball of the Yew Trees. Oh! Grand-père. Remember you told me all about it. This is just the same, except here we have the gum trees.”

  The old man smiled as he gazed upon the scene and his smile broadened even further as he as he watched the rapt expression spreading across his granddaughter’s face. “Who’d have thought it?” he muttered, “Who’d have thought anyone could have constructed all of this?”

  “It’s how they must have lived once, over there in Corsica and such places. They’re a deep lot, the de Rossis. Look at Mary Ann. You’d think she’d walked into Government House ballroom.” Elizabeth nudged her grandfather. Mary Ann held her head high and glanced around with perfect composure.

  For Mary Ann had stepped into her dreams. That sturdy reality which ruled her days counted for nothing compared with the shimmering reveries of her nights, and now she had walked straight into that hidden world. Leaving behind everyday life; the pinafores, the pipkins, the bowls of settling cream, the clucking of the hens and the plop, plop, plop of fruit boiling away into jam - she had crossed the boundary between reality and dreams.

  Here perfection lay, all around her. Just as she’d learnt from her grandfather’s stories: the satin and brocade, the lilting music, fluttering fans and polite conversation. It really did exist!

  She gave a deep sigh of contentment.

  As the countryfolk entered the ballroom and hovered a trifle awkwardly by the door their loud voices and pushy ways gave way to a whispered hum of conversation. The ballroom set its own standards and in the space of a few moments the visitors had to adjust to a different world.

  The guests stared and whispered amongst themselves, some shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and everyone glanced around in search of familiar faces. Most of them knew each other. If they did not at first comprehend the etiquette of the ballroom they could still chat to their neighbours until, with nods and greetings, the atmosphere eased, and warmed as Frank moved among them setting the tone of the evening.

  Greeting the Guise family with a broad smile, he bent low over Elizabeth’s hand. “You must take a seat. The dancing will begin in a short while, you’ll be parched from that long drive, a glass of wine or perhaps a cordial for you ladies…”

  William hesitated. What he really wanted was a draught of ale and something warned him such refreshment would not be available on this particular evening. But he was wrong. Frank immediately discerned his hesitation. “There is plenty of home brew. Ask one of my men to show you the way, perhaps later? For the moment a glass of wine?” He did not intend that his ballroom became filled with beer swillers.

  “Come, Miss Mary Ann,” Frank offered her his arm, then he held out his other arm to Elizabeth. “I’ll find seats for you close to the orchestra. I am sure you’ll enjoy their music. And I’ll take your grandfather away for a chat with my father later in the evening.”

  A trifle overcome, Mary Ann hesitantly took one arm, but her sister grasped the other with a confident flourish of her fan as she sailed down the ballroom at his side. The fan fluttered expertly and her eyes glanced to right and left as she acknowledged those all about her. Then, gathering her shawl about her shoulders with one hand, she swept her silk skirts expertly to one side with the other and took her seat as though balls were commonplace and her days were spent in the most select of company.

  “I can see you’ve been a very fortunate young lady to have such sisters. I’ve never forgotten that evening at your sister Hannah’s, such a gracious lady.” Frank de Rossi smiled down at Mary Ann. “Pardon me, are you feeling quite well?” Her spellbound face highlighted the brilliance of her eyes. She no longer inhabited a country where the kangaroos grazed outside, the hooting owls swooped from tree to tree and possums scurried along the branches, instead, she’d been transported to a place where carriages clattered across the cobbles and footmen ushered guests into the throng. In that world the men bowed in a courtly fashion to the ladies and swanlike necks were bent and hands kissed.

  Speechless she could only nod her head and smile. Frank de Rossi had to look away. He’d counted the months till the completion of this grand venture over and over again; and he’d stifled all those memories of Mary Ann, or tried to put them out of his mind. Yet still they’d surfaced in his dreams. Countless times he’d imagined her walking into his home. He’d tried to arm himself against the wave of emotion he knew would surge through him when he saw her once more. Now, despite himself, he sensed the muscles of his face spreading in a smile. A great glorious smile. One glance from her would reveal the depth of his emotion. He must restrain himself, the time had not yet come. He looked again at her soft cheeks, the delicate arch of her brow and those eyes which sparkled with excitement. Then he tightened his lips and looked away. Time was needed, time to get to know each other. He’d not go overseas again, he’d be the constant neighbour and then, who knows?

  William smiled at his daughter. With great satisfaction he observed the different side now revealed. Forget the sun bonnets, aprons, sensible boots. The Mary Ann smiling up at the tall, distinguished, slightly grizzled man glowed with a new elegance. That priceless possession of a young girl, the bloom of a perfect complexion, gave her face a rare radiance. From the tip of silk-shod dancing slippers to the dark curls about her forehead, she was a picture of anticipation.

  Frank de Rossi inclined his head gravely. “So long since I had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Miss Mary Ann. Perhaps later in the evening I’ll have the honour of a dance?”

  “Mary Ann will be delighted,” William spoke up. “Of course you’ll have to make allowances for our rustic ways. But I am sure she’ll find her dancing feet before too long.”

  “They’ll bring round some refreshments soon, sir. Will you excuse me while I greet my guests?” He hurried away. A moment longer and he’d have lost his tongue. He knew it. He’d just have stared into those dark eyes and stammered like a schoolboy.

  At that instant the leading fiddler struck up.

  Mary Ann had barely settled herself on a chair, carefully placed not too close to the musicians, not too far from a window and the cool breezes of the evening, when a commotion heralded the arrival of a much larger party.

  Two ladies who flounced past them sat themselves down even closer to the orchestra. Once settled their eyes raked the room and behind their fans they giggled to each other. Ringlets of an unlikely golden hue bobbed around their sharp features as their eyes narrowed with disdain. Their pointed toes tapped in time to the music and one of them called out to an escort to hurry up with a glass of wine. “Or something stronger if you can get it!” The egret feather in her hair nodding in time to the melody.

  Elizabeth sniffed and looked the other way. “Don’t stare, Mary Ann, you don’t know those people.” But when the men returned with their drinks she couldn’t control her own curiosity. “Who are they? I’m sure I’ve never laid eyes on any of them before.”

  William laid a finger on his lips. “Careful, Elizabeth, they’re our new neighbours. Bought that property on the way to Bungendore. Old Furness was lucky to sell in these hard times, but land’s changing hands as quickly as the gold’s coming out of the earth. He was lucky to find a buyer like Patterson, petty cash for the likes of him!”

  “Ah, the goldfields. Fortunes made in a day and lost just as soon.”

  “Not for folk like these. Heads screwed on, I’d say. Struck lucky and putting their cash in the land. City folk they are, city folk struck it rich. Soon they’ll be back in Melbourne. They’ll leave their overseer in charge.”

  “There seem to be a large number of gentlemen in their party. Look! That man over there’s wanting to speak to you.”

  Several men had followed the ladies into the room and Frank moved across to the party to welcome them.

&n
bsp; The woman who addressed him had a loud voice which carried across the room. “Such a first rate place, Mr de Rossi, such a delightful orchestra. You’ve really done us proud.”

  “Ugh! ‘Done us proud’!” Elizabeth muttered distastefully. One of the men in that party detached himself and came across to William, a stocky man whose sunburnt face contrasted sharply with his white shirt. Everything about him appeared brand-new; shiny dancing pumps, well-fitting suit and a waistcoat which stretched just a shade too tightly across his chest.

  “George Brownlow. May I introduce myself. Mr Patterson’s overseer.”

  “Heard tell he’d taken someone on. Good reports, word gets round.” William smiled as he shook the man’s hand.

  George Brownlow bent low over Elizabeth’s hand and then stepped back with a slight bow as he acknowledged Mary Ann. “We can’t get over it. Mrs Patterson and her friends had no idea what to expect. They’d imagined it would be just some pleasant gathering for all the neighbours. Not a great ball like this.”

  “Some of the balls in this part of the world are scarcely worth the name, sir.” Elizabeth agreed, “but the de Rossis are a very old family, certainly not strangers to the ways of the world. They’d have their own ideas about how to go about things. Though society is certainly changing.” Her eyes lingered on the lady of the egret feathers. “Nothing surprises me these days.”

  George Brownlow hastily turned away and continued in conversation with William for a few minutes, then bowed politely to Mary Ann. “Might I ask for the pleasure of a dance, Miss Guise?”

  Mary Ann couldn’t believe her ears. She’d expected to sit for half the evening listening to the chatter of her elders. Living on such large properties, seeing others only occasionally, when people met they just talked and talked. The weather, the crops, the prices, the machinations of the middle men who cheated the squatters and led the markets up in the city astray, an endless litany of complaints.

  “Thank you.” She smiled as she rose to her feet.

  First on the floor! The words whirled round in her head as they spun around. She hadn’t had to sit there and wait for her father to take her round the room. What a wonderful evening this was going to be, she’d never feel like this again. A first ball, a first partner, a first dance.

  As he had led her onto the gleaming boards and held out his arms, Mary Ann knew without a shadow of doubt that she had walked into another world. Never before had a man held her so close. Brothers and her father and uncle didn’t really count; they belonged in their male world of wood smoke and the reassuring whiff of tobacco. This man was different. His hands were just as rough as theirs, his face as weatherbeaten, but he moved with a certain resolution, a confidence that belied his position in life.

  He said nothing as he guided her into the dance with an animal grace which completely swept her off her feet. With his arm pressing into the small of her back and his hand holding hers she forgot that her knowledge of the steps was not very good, that she had never been to a dance before.

  George Brownlow made it all so easy. His arms enfolded her, his sturdy body led the way and words were not needed.

  When he escorted Mary Ann back to the Guise party he bowed low over her hand. “May I expect a second dance a little later, Miss Mary Ann?”

  “Please don’t let us keep you from your friends, Mr Brownlow!” Grand-père interjected firmly before she had a chance to reply.

  “Oh, Grand-père, what’s the matter?” Mary Ann settled herself down again. The old man’s features were cast in a severe mould.

  “Birds of a feather stick together, don’t they? Look at them, I swear that’s rouge on that woman’s cheeks. She’s getting quite warm and it’s making her look like a turkeycock. And anyhow, you don’t want to be seen dancing with a man who’s not much above a servant.”

  “Oh, Father, a little charity, please. I know he’s an overseer but Brownlow’s a first-rate fellow. Best overseer this side of Goulburn I’ve heard tell. You need to be pretty highly skilled to be left in charge of a property that size!” William remonstrated. “Life’s different these days. Time marches on, you know. There’s plenty of money around, you’ve only got to look at them. The Pattersons, well there’s hundreds of folk like them around these days but at same time there’s precious little skill. Many an able man makes his living by managing the property of others.”

  “Grand-mère would certainly never have invited any overseer of ours as a guest to a neighbour’s house. Let me tell you that.”

  “Well, I’ll give Mary Ann a spin. Care to come, my dear?” William knew the best way to divert his father was to put a full stop to the conversation.

  “Does he think Mr Brownlow’s not a suitable person to talk to?” Mary Ann asked as she followed the slow, wooden footsteps of her father.

  “You know your grandfather. Always feels no one comes up to the standard of the Guises. Blame Grand-mère for that really, she was very particular… oh sorry, my fault,” he muttered as he stood on her toe.

  Mary Ann caught the hint of a smile on the face of George Brownlow when they danced past. He was speaking to one of the women of the party, intent in conversation, but his eyes followed Mary Ann.

  “Gran’pere would much rather you danced with Frank de Rossi.”

  “Frank de Rossi! He’s such an old stick.”

  “Now, now Mary Ann. He’s a proper gentleman. That’s the difference. At least in Grand-père’s eyes. There. Had enough? Shall we sit down for a bit?”

  The orchestra played a mazurka but no one dared take the floor. As if they were nailed to their seats the assembled company looked sideways at each other or else appeared to be deeply absorbed in conversation. Such a dance had not yet become commonly known.

  Another waltz followed and out of the corner of her eye Mary Ann saw Frank de Rossi weaving his way towards them through the guests. Then he was stopped, buttonholed in conversation by the brassy lady with the egret’s feather. Suddenly George Brownlow was at her side.

  “May we repeat the pleasure? Miss Mary Ann?” Once again his arms held her close. The whole room dissolved into a lilting, swaying, clinging firmament where lesser mortals spun around them and they, alone, existed.

  Whether it was George Brownlow’s words, or the orchestra’s music, Mary Ann did not know, but her whole body melted into his arms. They circled the room almost as one being, the broad-shouldered man and the slender girl.

  “We are all very surprised. No one had expected such an event. The count has certainly given everyone a magnificent evening, don’t you agree, Miss Guise?”

  “I’ve never been to a ball before,” she blurted out. “All I know is, it’s just magic.”

  “Magic! That is the word I’ve been searching for. The whole evening is magic, is it not?”

  Unusually for Mary Ann she found herself tongue-tied. Her partner chatted on as he guided her through the dance, but she could only half listen as her whole being exalted in the excitement of the moment. Never before had she felt such pleasure, such certainty and such an abiding sensation of sheer joy.

  Confused by the sudden intensity of her feelings she barely thanked him as he led her back to her seat. Elizabeth frowned as he went back to his party.

  “Surely he should be dancing with those ladies,” Elizabeth observed as Mary Ann sat down again. “A gentleman should be attending to his own party. They don’t seem to have left their seats.”

  “Perhaps they aren’t quite able to. I think that lady on the left has just consumed her third glass of wine.” A wry smile touched William’s lips.

  Another neighbour’s husband politely took Mary Ann around the floor, then a spotty grandson of Dr Morton summoned up enough courage to lead her into the shottische. Mary Ann smiled politely though all she could think of was George Brownlow’s arms enfolding her once more.

  By the time the supper interval arrived the Guise party had danced their way round most of the other families of note. Mary Ann had been partnered through o
ne half of her dance card and finally managed a stately mazurka, at the urging of Frank who had learnt the dance when in Italy.

  “He’s got absolutely nothing to say, Elizabeth,” she grumbled when Frank had led her back to their party. “I think Papa dances better than he does.”

  Nothing to say. But everything to feel, as he had held her in his arms for those precious moments. Light as a feather, her dark hair contrasting so vividly with that peach bloom complexion, with every step she danced more deeply into his heart.

  Tongue-tied he could find no words to bandy about. Instead, his heart swelled with all he would have liked to say. The sheer pleasure of seeing her again, the wonderful completeness of holding her in his arms and the vain hope that she might look at him as a man, not as a rather dull neighbour, all conspired to leave him speechless.

  He would have liked to spend longer with their party but the demands on a host were great. Every time he saw Mary Ann upon the floor she was dancing with a different partner, many seeming mere striplings to him.

  “Supper is served!” In Mary Ann’s estimation this amounted to a tiresome intrusion into an evening of delight. Who wanted to stop and eat?

  The throwovers had been lifted, revealing the feast. Vol-au-vents filled with delicate concoctions of chicken and mushrooms, slices of pale pink beef, and in spite of the drought, Frank had managed to run down a few bush turkeys so now these were carved and set out on platters and decorated with parsley. Raised pies and ducks with forcemeat, rissoles and smoked trout, all garnished with chopped egg and mint, whilst hearts of lettuce and tiny tomatoes glowed like rubies in the candlelight.

  “Look, Elizabeth, look at that fish! It’s covered in jelly, and look at the leaves and the peppercorns all over it. Fancy serving a fish in jelly!”

  “Hush! That’s not the sort of jelly you’re used to. It’s aspic, fish in aspic. Put that plate down, come outside, we’ll find a table, you don’t serve yourself! The men’ll help us to it.”