The Lace Balcony (71 page)

It's all over. The lies. The dreams. My false hopes for Daisy. My life here is over. There's nothing left for me in this God-forsaken country.

The final sounds of New Year's Eve revelry had only just faded when the first cocks crowed in the nearby farms. Vianna was drying her hair on her Juliet balcony, her valise standing defiantly by her bedside in readiness for boarding the
Bussorah Merchant.

The new calendar for 1832 hung on the wall, a symbol of her new life. There was no need for her to stay a day longer. She had not chosen to take up Jean-Baptiste's offer of a bed in his studio to hide from Severin. Instead she decided it would be safer to remain on board ship for the day or two before it sailed.

She could not bear the thought of prolonged contact with Mungo and Felix.

This chapter of my life is ended. Best to cut it off as cleanly as a surgeon's knife amputates a limb that has no hope of healing.

A girl's piercing scream drew her to her feet. The door of the east wing of Rockingham Hall burst open and a swarm of bodies erupted into the garden. The cry was a magnet for the servants, who hung out of windows or watched excitedly from the sidelines.

The eye of the storm was Molly. Scarlet with fury, Mrs Baker emerged in hot pursuit, brandishing a metal soup ladle at her daughter. Molly barely managed to dodge it, her arms raised to protect her head while defending herself verbally. ‘You don't understand, Ma. Listen to me! Listen to me!'

‘You can't pull the wool over my eyes, girl. I know perfectly well what you been up to. I'll be packed back to The Factory 'cos of you.'

A lusty swipe of Cook's arm caused Molly to lose her balance and fall. With the weapon poised over her head like the Sword of Damocles, she crouched, panting. ‘I'm no liar, Ma. Whatever happens, you won't lose your place here on my account. I'll be the one to pack my bags, not you.'

Cook let out a wail so plaintive that Vianna was alarmed. What on earth had gone wrong? Although she was trying to distance herself
from everything that she would soon leave forever, she felt a strong stab of guilt about Molly's distress.

Hastily tying back her wet hair at the nape of her neck, Vianna hurried down into the garden, mindful of the danger of intervention and how volatile servants' brawls could be.
I must keep a cool head for Molly's sake.

Diplomacy had no chance. At sight of Vianna, Molly ran to her and threw herself into her arms, sobbing. Vianna tried to look sympathetically at Cook who, florid of face, was angrily shouting, her words studded with Gaelic phrases, making it difficult for Vianna to piece the story together.

Cook had backed off a few paces to where two newly assigned women servants were either trying to pacify her – or extract the truth of the gossip.

Gone was all trace of Molly's Currency Lass confidence. ‘I wish I'd never been born! It's all my fault. The Master and Mrs L'Estrange are shouting fit to wake the dead. Ma and I've been warned to face the music.'

The L'Estranges seem to need little to ignite a fight, but why are Molly and her mother the cause?

Vianna drew the girl down on a garden bench and tried to lighten her mood.

‘Surely it can't be all that bad. What are you accused of? Breaking one of the best dinner plates? Burning the pudding?'

‘Worse than you can imagine. Felix is being interrogated, Mungo too. You know Felix, always in control, not a hothead like Mungo. But now their roles are reversed. Mungo is calm and Felix is shouting himself hoarse!'

Felix? Mungo? This sounds serious.
Vianna tried to mask her concern. ‘If you've been wrongly accused of theft, Felix will defend your honour.'

‘He can't – I've already lost it!'

Lost her honour? This must mean the affair with Felix.

Vianna whispered, ‘That's human nature. Not the end of the world.'

‘It's the end of
my
world.' Molly said sadly.

Vianna glanced at the girl's belly and felt an involuntary twinge of envy.

‘Surely you don't mean a baby? It's too soon to be sure.'

‘It only takes one night, doesn't it? But don't worry, I've been as sick as a dog every morning. But from nerves – not that. But now that I'm ruined, I'll be packed off to The Factory out of sight.'

‘They'll do no such thing. What has Felix said?'

‘I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since we came back. It's all spoilt. Felix was teaching me all about the planets and the stars . . .'

‘This is all my fault, Molly. I'm so sorry.'

‘No it's all mine. I was so happy just loving Felix from afar. I knew he was on the rebound from you. I wanted to comfort him. I
did.
But it wasn't enough.'

Vianna added wistfully, ‘Love makes its own rules.'

Cockney George poked his head through the rear door of the east wing.

‘Hey, Cook! You've been called in to say your piece. You're next, m'girl.' He said, with a broad wink at Molly that might have been friendly, or teasing innuendo that she'd been caught out.

Vianna's heart sank at the sight of Mungo strolling towards them with the confident swagger of a Currency Lad whose world is totally free of trouble.
Damn Mungo, he's not suffering one jot that I'm sailing out of his life in a matter of hours.

His expression sobered at the sight of Molly's red-rimmed eyes.

‘What's wrong, sweetheart? You know me. There's nothing I can't sort out.'

Were his words meant to include her? Vianna couldn't be sure.
But what does it matter? There are some things even Mungo can't change.

Cook was seen to march out of one rear door and return to her domain in the other wing, followed by a gaggle of servants eager to hear the verdict of her confrontation. She threw a parting shot at her daughter. ‘The answer's, no, my girl!'

George barely contained his glee. ‘You're in for it now, m'girl.'

Mungo turned Molly to make her look him straight in the eye. ‘Remember, you were born here. That makes you as good as any of the Quality. Don't let anyone try to put you in your
place
. We're Currency. We make our own place in the world, right?'

Molly answered with a thin, faltering smile through her tears.

Vianna drew out her handkerchief, wiped the girl's eyes, tidied her hair and removed her apron. ‘Now, you're perfect.'

‘I'll stand by you, Molly, we'll face the music together.' Mungo offered her his arm and they proceeded down the path, Molly's head held high.

They look just like a courting couple.
Vianna felt a lump in her throat but she blocked the tears from her eyes, shocked by the truth.
They're two of a kind. I encouraged Molly to win Felix's heart. How wrong I was. Mungo's the best man for her. And she's the woman who'll give him children.

•  •  •

The formal withdrawing room that Kentigern had chosen for the interrogation underlined the severity of the occasion. Mungo realised this was no mere infringement of the rigid rules of the servant-master relationship defined in the Colony's statutes.

It's a kangaroo court. She's guilty before she opens her mouth. Father's a hothead, Mrs Less's word is law, and Felix is too intent on being the perfect gentleman to have the guts to be his own man.

About to enter the room, Molly said sadly, ‘You can't help me, Mungo. It's too late.'

Mungo whispered a quick aside, ‘Trust me. I know what I'm doing.'

Jesus, I wish that was the truth.

The trusting look Molly gave him steeled Mungo's resolve.

Kentigern L'Estrange was seated in a high-backed armorial chair. The moment their eyes locked, his father registered a twitch of annoyance at his presence.

Father wants to sweep this crime under the carpet, whatever it is. But he knows I'm the man to challenge him.

Mungo could not gauge Albruna's true feelings from her expression. Her face was pale, but the intense blue of her eyes coolly assessed them.

If she's the jury at this trial, the verdict is still open.

Felix sat bolt upright like a man of Quality about to take the witness stand, intent on clearing his family name of any taint of dishonour. Only his eyes betrayed his nerves.

Mungo confronted the problem head on. ‘I am here on behalf of Miss Baker. Given that the lady has no solicitor to advise her of her rights, I shall act as her witness in the event any accusation is made involving her good name.'

Kentigern gave a snort that might have been a dismissal of Mungo's presumption or begrudging approval of his tactics. ‘Nothing so formal, Mungo. You're jumping the gun, as usual. This is not merely a legal matter. It is a family matter to be resolved discreetly and speedily. No servant of mine would ever stand trial even if I was convinced of their guilt.'

‘Glad to hear it, Sir. Whatever the case concerning your cook, Mrs Baker, may I remind you that Miss Molly Baker, is
not
your assigned servant. Not even a paid servant. She simply assists her mother, in the role of a dutiful daughter. Thus the laws binding the colonial master-servant relationship do not apply to her.'

‘Quite,' Kentigern said, clearly disconcerted to be on the back foot of the argument. ‘However the girl is directly involved in an important issue that requires my decision.'

‘And mine.' Albruna's quiet interjection drew a glance of irritation from her husband but he nodded in acknowledgment.

For God's sake what's wrong? It's not like Father to stall. Must be serious.

‘May I ask, Sir, if Cook's place is secure?'

Albruna's swift response prevented her husband's intended reply. ‘Absolutely, Mungo. We wish to retain her services as an
employee
for as long as she is content to remain under our roof. It is Cook herself who has declined our offer.'

Mungo was caught off-guard.

‘Family honour,' Kentigern said firmly. ‘A matter not to be taken lightly.

Mungo was blunt. ‘Whose honour is that – yours, Mrs Baker's or Molly's?'

‘Mine!' Felix rose in agitation. ‘You want the truth, Mungo? Cook – Molly's mother, is
proud.
She has chosen to leave this house if Molly accepts our offer.'

‘What offer? Will someone please talk straight and tell us what's going on?'

Kentigern waved a dismissive hand at Felix. ‘This young fool made a rash decision without considering the full consequences. An offer without my approval. Cook agrees it is entirely inappropriate. It would never be accepted by society. Marriage is quite out of the question.'

‘Marriage, eh?' Mungo glanced at Felix.
I didn't know he had it in him.

‘
Marriage
?' Molly whispered and leaned on Mungo's arm for support.

Felix turned to her, ‘I am truly sorry, Molly. I take full responsibility for – what has occurred. I did my best to set things right. You are too young to marry without parental consent. Your mother refuses to remain here as Cook if I marry you. She feels she would lose her “place” in the eyes of the servants. She refuses to grant her permission.'

‘So do I,' Kentigern said, ‘if you wish to remain my son and heir.'

Felix turned pale. ‘I respect your judgment, Father. But I am honour bound to right the wrong I have done, in taking advantage of Molly's youth. When Molly comes of age I intend to make an honest woman of her.'

‘A
poor
honest woman,' Kentigern warned him.

‘If that is the price I must pay to retain my honour, so be it.' Felix's voice croaked but his stance was firm.

‘Your
honour
? Hang on a moment,' Molly was pink with embarrassment.

‘Hush, Molly, let me handle this,' Mungo said quickly.

Her voice rode over his. ‘Nobody's asked me what
I
want. You never once mentioned the word marriage, Felix – except perhaps in the lovely way you described the eclipse of the sun and the moon.'

Mungo's mouth twitched.
That sounds just like Felix. But there's no stopping Molly now!

‘I don't want to marry any man who feels guilty for making love to me. You didn't say it was wrong
that
night at
Mookaboola
– so why is it wrong now? I thought I loved you. I'm not so sure now.'

The silence in the room was so total that Mungo almost laughed out loud.

‘I wanted to offer to do the honourable thing,' Felix stammered.

‘It seems you've made everyone happy – except me. I don't want a man with cold feet. The truth is you still want Vianna. I won't be second best to
any
woman!'

Felix blanched. Kentigern threw up his hands in the air. Albruna coughed behind her handkerchief, but Mungo caught an odd glint in her eye that just might have been admiration.

What guts the kid has. The look on Felix's face is priceless. Now it's my turn.

Mungo crossed the room to his brother's side and spoke discreetly. ‘If I may offer a quiet word of advice, this is the perfect time to take Molly aside and discuss the matter in
private.
Your offer was honourable – but hardly romantic.'

Mungo turned to his father and Mrs L'Estrange. ‘May I suggest a short cooling off period. There are not two people's lives involved in this decision. Within a few months there will be
three.
'

At the electric word ‘three', Albruna turned pale. Kentigern rose clumsily from his chair, his complexion purple. All eyes turned to Felix. His jaw moved as if he was suddenly devoid of the power of speech. Then he bounded two steps forward.