The Lace Balcony by Johanna Nicholls

together?’
    Fanny took a frank look at the tall figure, somewhere in his thirties, superbly tailored in grey with a rakishly tilted top hat anda diamond horseshoe pinned in the stock at his throat. Like a thoroughbred, his features bore the unmistakable stamp of generations of aristocratic breeding – the eyes amused but watchful, the manner effortlessly charming, the touch of grey at his temples attractive rather than aging.
    Should I admit my purse was stolen? No. That makes me look too vulnerable.
    â€˜Well, I am rather hungry,’ she admitted, then blushed at her lack of manners.
    â€˜Splendid. But first allow me to introduce myself. The Honourable Montague Severin at your service. Severin to my friends.’
    In response to his bow, Fanny curtseyed. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Severin.’
    â€˜Severin will suffice.’ He added politely, ‘May I know the name of my charming dinner companion?’
    Fanny hesitated. She had revealed her name to the late Will Eden, but decided she needed a fresh identity to launch her new life and put the law off her tracks. A name sprang unbidden to her lips, that of an exquisite courtesan-actress who had died young of consumption. Fanny borrowed the surname from the kindly priest.
    â€˜Vianna Francis,’ she said.
    â€˜An unusual name for an unusual beauty. I take it you are a singer by profession?’
    â€˜Not me. I was femme de chambre – to a courtesan.’ Damn my big mouth, I didn’t have to reveal that.
    â€˜I see,’ he said carefully, with one eyebrow slightly raised.
    â€˜Don’t misunderstand me, Severin,’ she said quickly. ‘I learned all the tricks of the trade for dressing my lady’s hair, tending her fashionable wardrobe, soothing her moods, banishing her headaches, travelling with her and delivering notes to gentlemen who fought duels to gain her favours. But that’s all I did!’
    â€˜A most loyal companion, I never doubted it. But with a voice of your quality you need never be in service again.’ He rolled the name around his tongue. ‘Vianna Francis. Yes, a name, a face and a voice that I could make famous in the Colony in all the best circles. You remind me of a Botticelli maiden, yet with the voice of an angel. Shall we discuss your future over dinner?’
    Who’s Botticelli? An opera singer? And is this Severin really an emancipist and an Honourable? I wonder why he got transported. Whatever, he clearly mixes with the Quality. I’ll bet he didn’t find that flash carriage at a fire sale.
    â€˜No harm in just talking,’ she added carefully, ‘as long as you understand I must return home early to my sister.’
    Severin did not hesitate. ‘Would your sister care to chaperone us?’
    â€˜Daisy will be asleep by now. She’s only two.’
    Severin smiled understandingly. ‘In that case we will enjoy a tête a tête. ’
    Well, that could mean anything. She gave him a cautious smile of assent.
    Severin offered his arm. ‘Am staying at my friend Major Dalby’s townhouse at Jack the Miller’s Point, but first we shall drive past the grand mansion I have just leased as a gentlemen’s club – Severin House. Shall build a private theatre for concert singers to entertain my guests. My future and yours – should the idea interest you . . .’
    Vianna Francis held her head high as they crossed to his waiting carriage.
    Severin’s nothing if not charming, but aren’t they all till they get what they want? Imagine me being paid to sing for the Quality. But even if push comes to shove, I’ll have dinner tonight – and stash away a couple of bread rolls in my reticule, so Daisy won’t go hungry tomorrow.

Chapter 4
    Mungo Quayle prided himself on his being a survivor come hell or high water. And at Moreton Bay Penal Settlement, he was soon confronted by the reality of both. The Brisbane