Chapter 53
The garden lay in that soft velvety twilight that brought a profusion of perfumes. From the window of the guest room that Molly had been assigned to prepare for her wedding, Vianna paused to watch the busy scene in the garden below. Excited servants shouted orders, running and colliding into each other laughing. This would be the first wedding held in this house since Albruna came here to marry Kentigern L’Estrange. Vianna knew today held an additional element of romance because Molly was ‘one of their own.’
She turned to help Molly, who was scrubbing herself in the tub placed on the canvas protecting the carpet.
‘I don’t know how ladies of Quality can bear to have servants bathe and dress them. I’m perfectly capable of taking a bath unaided,’ she added quickly, ‘but I couldn’t have done without you here by my side. Thank you for coming back to support me, Vianna.’
‘I’m honoured to be your bridesmaid, Molly. It was kind of Jane to alter Mrs Lestrange’s gown to fit me. But you do understand I’m sailing for Home tomorrow.’
‘I wonder how long it takes you English settlers to think of Australia as Home. Scots, Irish and others don’t seem to have the same trouble. Perhaps because most of them came here as convicts – and ended up having a better life than they’d had at home.’
Vianna knew it was not as simple as that but she was distracted from this talk by the size of the moon, strangely large and mysterious as if heralding the forthcoming eclipse.
‘They say an eclipse brings radical change in our lives. It certainly will for you – as the younger Mrs L’Estrange.’
Molly gave a shiver of delight. ‘Are the guests beginning to arrive?’
Vianna described the scene. Old Crawford, Cockney George and the two newly assigned Irish servants were climbing up ladders and hanging Chinese lanterns from the branches of trees, advised by a cluster of laughing, barefoot children. When the lanterns were lit they formed the magical pattern of a multi-coloured Chinese paper dragon, swaying in the breeze.
The half-completed gazebo was short of a roof, but lined with lanterns. Giggling servant girls, their skirts looped up into their belts to free their bare legs, hung the frame with baskets of geraniums. Racing each other like children, they charged back and forth to furnish the gazebo with white-clothed table and lectern. Their mood of bubbling expectation seemed to mock Vianna’s wistful resignation. The beginning of Molly’s new era – and the end of mine.
She was startled by Molly’s dramatic cry.
‘I can’t get married! My wedding gown is borrowed, my shoes are new, but I haven’t got anything old, or blue. I’ll bring bad luck to Felix!’
Vianna said calmly, ‘You’re the best thing that ever happened to Felix. But I’ll organise something old and something blue.’ She turned in the doorway. ‘Jane is bound to have blue flowers in her herb garden – to add to your bouquet.’
‘Bless you, Vianna, you’d make a perfect lady’s maid!’ Molly teased.
‘That’s not how I see my future, but thanks for the compliment, Molly.’
Vianna raced through the garden and found Jane in her herb garden already picking forget-me-nots and blue bergamot flowers.
‘How did you know Molly needed these?’
‘My granny was fey. A bit of it rubbed off on me – and Mungo.’
‘You’d have been proud of him today, Jane. Despite his vertigo he climbed up to the crow’s nest to rescue Toby.’
‘So I heard. Whatever his failings, no one can ever say he’s short on courage.’ Jane handed her the blue flowers and added pointedly, ‘Sometimes all it takes to be happy is a bit of courage. But I guess you can’t teach a mermaid new tricks.’
I suppose I deserved that. But she doesn’t know the half of it.
‘Molly deserves a happy ending,’ Vianna said quickly. ‘Thank you for the flowers. I still have to find something old to complete the tradition.’
As if regretting her sharp tongue, Jane tightened the sash around her waist. ‘You look lovely – considering I only had an hour to nip in the waist and add a flounce to Albruna’s gown. By the way, where are the rest of your clothes?’
Vianna faltered. ‘I left them on board the Bussorah Merchant.’
Jane was nothing if not forthright. ‘Accidentally – or on purpose?’
‘It’s a long story, Jane, and rather complicated.’
Jane gave a sigh of resignation. ‘It always is with you and Mungo. Now off with you before Albruna L’Estrange sends out a search party for you.’
Vianna bunched her skirts to clear the ground as she hastened to the house.
Early guests were already filtering into the garden as Vianna ran into the kitchen. Cook was flushed and angry, shouting orders in all directions.
‘I know you’re busy, Mrs Baker, but Molly needs –’
‘Whatever’s the problem, you’d best fix it yourself. Molly’s gone against my advice. I know my place. But organising a wedding breakfast at scant notice to meet the mistress’s high standards would try the patience of a saint.’
‘Of course. But Molly needs something old to wear. She’d be delighted if you could give her something. A handkerchief perhaps?’
‘I’ve nothing fit for the likes of a L’Estrange bride!’ she snapped and Vianna saw it would take a long time for her to be reconciled to Molly’s marriage.
What did Mungo call it? Inverted snobbery.
As she turned to leave, Vianna’s heart gave an involuntary lurch at the sight of the figure seated in a corner of the kitchen. A pretty, dark-haired, plump young woman held a babe in her arms who was sucking contentedly on one full, generous breast.
‘I’m Sadie,’ the girl said with a knowing smile. ‘And you’d be Fanny, or is it Vianna? We haven’t met but I know all about you from Mungo. I was assigned here years back. Mungo, Felix and me, we were all kids together. Got up to a lot of wild tricks we did. That’s not hard with Mungo in the lead.’
She tenderly stroked the babe’s head and Vianna saw the betrothal ring on her finger, suspecting Sadie had meant her to notice it. ‘Your baby’s beautiful.’
Sadie nodded. ‘They all are.’
‘Excuse me. I must take these flowers upstairs for the bride’s bouquet.’
‘Hang on. Aren’t you needing something old for her? It’s not flash, but it could do the job.’ She withdrew a comb from her hair causing a pile of lustrous black hair to fall to her shoulders. ‘Mungo gave it to me when I left here a few years back.’
Vianna stiffened but took the comb, forcing herself to thank Sadie, then fled.
The layout of both L’Estrange wings was largely unfamiliar, so Vianna bailed up a servant girl to ask directions as she had re-entered the house by a different door.
‘Where’s the bride?’ Vianna repeated her question. Was the girl deaf?
The answer was a jabber of words and sign language. Vianna realised that Gaelic was the only tongue the girl knew. So she continued rushing down corridors.
This is chaotic. I’d need a map to find my way around these houses.
As she crossed the Bridge of Sighs, that she had only seen from the perspective of Mungo’s loft, Vianna paused by an open doorway.
Mungo was calming his brother with his peculiar brand of encouragement. ‘Here, let me have a go at your cravat, Felix. Your hands are shaking so hard you could pass as a dipsomaniac.’
‘I wanted to look my best,’ Felix said in despair. ‘But how can I? There wasn’t time to visit Blooms for new wedding clothes. And thanks to Silent Jack my suit was ruined by Port Jackson saltwater. Is it always so nerve-wracking getting married?’
‘No one’s going to give you a second glance. The bride cops all the attention.’
‘Damn you, Mungo! That’s the third neck cloth you’ve ruined. Can’t you do a better job than that? You’re supposed to be my best man – not a saboteur!’
Vianna decided it was high time to intervene. ‘Can I be of help? I used to be a lady’s maid, but I fee
l sure I can manage a gentleman’s cravat.’
Heaven knows I’ve handled enough men to form my own army.
In rapid time she tied everyone’s neck linen to their satisfaction. ‘There, you’re both perfect. Now I must help Molly finish dressing. If you’d kindly point the way?’
Felix sprang forward to escort her, halted by Vianna’s genuine cry of alarm. ‘No! It’s bad luck for a bridegroom to see his bride on their wedding day before he meets her at the altar!’
‘There is no altar,’ Mungo said. ‘It’s a civil ceremony. No time for churches.’
‘The same traditions apply.’ She added discreetly to Mungo, ‘Don’t forget the wedding rings. That’s your duty as best man.’
Mungo gave her the thumbs up sign that he had everything under control and told her how to find Molly again. Flowers in hand, Vianna raced off, repeating his directions.
Relieved to find the room, she burst into the bedchamber and stopped short. Albruna L’Estrange stood side by side with Molly, their backs to her as they checked the bride’s appearance in the cheval mirror.
‘My wedding dress fits you perfectly Molly. Jane Quayle has done well.’
Vianna made a respectful curtsey to the mistress of the house. ‘I am sorry for the delay. These blue herbs are from Jane Quayle’s garden. And a girl named Sadie offered Molly this hair comb for the something old.’ Vianna could not bring herself to link the gift to Mungo.
Albruna accepted the comb with a smile. ‘That was kind of Sadie. She’s well known to us. But I have something even older that you might like to wear, Molly.’
Molly was close to tears. ‘I’m so lucky to have your support, ma’am. I was afraid you’d bolted again, Fanny. I couldn’t face this without you. Ma doesn’t want to know me – and I’ve got no decent father to give me away.’
Albruna said gently, ‘My husband would be honoured to step into that role, if you should wish it, Molly.’
‘Oh, would he? That’s wonderful,’ Molly immediately twirled around like a happy child – then stopped when she saw what the older woman held in her hands.
‘We Prussians are nothing if not far-sighted, my dear,’ she said, holding out to Molly a gold chain from which hung an exquisite gold locket.
‘I have kept this to present to Felix’s bride on her wedding day. I wore it on my wedding day and my grandmother wore it on her wedding day in the 1760s. Is that old enough for you, my dear?’
How odd. No mention of her mother’s wedding day.
Molly was so thrilled she stood on tiptoe, but froze in the act of attempting to kiss the cheek of her future mother-in-law. Vianna sensed the reason. Molly’s mother was in service to Felix’s mother, and even on such a day of joy as this, entrenched class barriers were difficult to break down.
Vianna was taken by surprise. It was Albruna who crossed the barrier, leaning down to kiss the bride’s cheek. ‘In one hour you will be my daughter. I believe my son has chosen well.’
She crossed to the door in a rustle of lilac silk. ‘I shall inform my husband you have chosen him to give you away.’ She inclined her head towards Vianna. ‘I leave you in good hands, Molly’.
• • •
In the gazebo, Mungo stood shoulder to shoulder with Felix before the table that separated them from Magistrate Kennedy, standing splendidly adorned in his Masonic robes. From inside the house came the sound of music being played on the pianoforte by one of Albruna’s music students.
Mungo noted Felix’s extreme pallor and the way his hands twitched with nerves as he repeatedly removed his watch to check the time. Mungo remembered that it was his role to keep the bridegroom’s spirits high.
‘Don’t panic. It’s fashionable for brides to be late.’
‘An absurd custom, designed to make bridegrooms anxious,’ Felix snapped. And a moment later asked, ‘Do you think it’s going to rain?’
‘It wouldn’t dare, mate. Not with Mrs Less running the show.’
Mungo checked the faces of the guests seated on either side of the aisle. He was pleased but not surprised that for once both Felix’s mother and his own appeared to be exchanging a few polite words.
I trust Will’s happy about what the day has in store.
As if on cue he felt a slight breeze. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the reason. Felix stood at his left shoulder. Will Eden stood to his right. His expression was serious as befitted the occasion, but his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Despite the iron shackles in evidence beneath his trouser leg, his boots were polished to a high shine. Will was as immaculate as prison garb would allow.
‘What are you doing here?’ Mungo whispered. ‘I’m the best man.
‘I thought you and Felix could use a bit of support.’
‘Glad you could make it,’ Mungo lied.
‘I have fresh details about that once in a lifetime opportunity I told you about.’
Will passed them on in brief – then disappeared.
Mungo decided that Felix, who was looking as miserable as a convict on a treadmill, needed to be distracted. ‘Hey, Felix, I’ve been hearing a lot of talk lately about those amazing entrepreneurs, the Henty Brothers, who’ve taken up land down south, west of Port Phillip Bay. And it seems there’s a bloke called John Batman in Van Diemen’s Land who’s got a fantastic plan to go behind Governor Bourke’s back to form a syndicate to cross Bass Strait and take up land at Port Phillip Bay. It mightn’t happen for a year or two, but you and I – we’d make a fortune if we signed up early.’
Felix looked wary but was intrigued enough to ask, ‘Who told you that? I’ve heard rumours. But it’s a mighty risky business. And quite against the law.’
‘I’ve had it on the very highest authority. You and I could make a killing – financially speaking of course. And my source should know what he’s talking about.’
Felix looked testy. ‘I trust your source is more reliable than the one you used for that previous fool proof plan of yours – to buy a Pacific island that turned out to have been blown up by a volcano. That bright idea sent you to Moreton Bay, remember?’
‘A totally different kettle of fish,’ Mungo assured him. ‘This land exists. It’s part of this Colony. This Batman bloke already has big landowners and wealthy colonists in Van Diemen’s Land lined up. There’s also a huge tract of land they intend to call Australia Felix. Now if that isn’t a happy omen, what is?’
Mungo saw the spark of interest registering in his brother’s eyes. ‘Well, I guess it won’t hurt to explore the idea. But this is hardly the perfect time. I’m taking on the added responsibility of a wife.’
‘Chances like this don’t grow on trees, Felix. If you want to come on board with me well and good. If not, I’ll make my own fortune solo. Just you watch me!’
Mungo felt pleased that he had planted the idea in fertile ground. The timing was perfect. He felt sure he could swear his father to secrecy and give him the chance to join him in plans for the future city of Melbourne.
The pianoforte inside the house dramatically changed volume. Albruna’s student was putting his heart and soul into the wedding march. Heading towards them from the far end of the garden was the wedding party.
Vianna. Mungo’s pulse raced. Tall, slender and ethereal, like a golden-haired Botticelli nymph, she was breathtaking, in a peach-coloured gown that matched her bouquet and bared her shoulders, as she led the way towards the gazebo.
Magistrate Kennedy stood waiting, conscious of the dignity of his office but pleased to be performing the duty he most enjoyed – officiating at weddings.
Mungo felt a rush of pride to see Kentigern L’Estrange in the role of father of the bride, his back ramrod straight, his eyes fixed on his sons as he approached them with Molly on his arm.
Felix stared in wonderment at Molly, as regal as a princess in his mother’s wedding gown. A gold locket glistened through the cloud of her tulle veil. Today’s Felix’s big day. No need to tell him my mother made that veil – for my bride.
&nbs
p; The sight of that veil triggered the memory of Vianna in the loft, covered by that same veil, naked except for his scarf tied around her neck.
I reckon that night will be the last thing I remember on my deathbed.
Mungo glanced at the assembled guests. He recognised the faces of assigned men and women he hadn’t seen since his childhood. He exchanged a meaningful smile with Sadie, the big-bosomed girl who had given him good cause for gratitude. She happily passed the babe to those who wanted to cuddle it, including Cockney George, who evidently made a risqué remark, setting off Sadie’s earthy laugh.
The bridal party’s measured steps had brought them halfway down the path. The lights of the Chinese dragon splashed colours over Vianna’s hair. She looked more like a goddess than a woman. Her hair was piled high on the crown of her head, allowing stray locks to tumble around her shoulders. It gave her a subtly wanton look that suggested that his woman had just been to bed and made love – very very well.
Mungo sighed. If only . . . !
Biased as he was about Vianna, the bride was the magnet of all eyes.
Mungo had no need to take a muster to know that every assigned female shared the dream of marrying a decent man, if not for love then to be mistress of her own domain, even if it was simply a shack in the bush. He suspected each girl saw herself in Molly’s shoes, walking towards the fulfilment of that unlikely convict dream of ‘marrying up’.
Molly has scored first prize – the Master’s son and heir.
Felix’s gasp was audible when Vianna drew back the bridal veil to reveal his bride smiling at him.
Magistrate Kennedy in his voice of authority asked who was giving the bride away – to which Kentigern L’Estrange responded firmly, ‘I am’, then stepped back to take his place beside his wife.
Mungo recognised Kennedy’s speech had been adapted from political speeches he made when standing for election. Kennedy loved the limelight. He abandoned the brief formula of the civil service. Instead he praised ‘The Land we Live in – Australia’, lectured on the sanctity of marriage and the duties of husband and wife and their responsibility to raise children to be free-born Australian citizens.
The Lace Balcony Page 57