A Principle of Honour

Chapter 9

September 1814

'Would you like some tea,' Miss Crawford said to Verity as she motioned with her hand towards the tea tray that rested on the table between them.

Verity smiled politely. 'Yes please,' she replied, 'that would be lovely.'

Miss Crawford, a woman in her middle age, was the headmistress of the Bristol Academy. Just like all the other members of her teaching staff, she wore a plain, dark blue, practical light wool dress. The only feature she wore that distinguished herself from the other members of staff, was an ornate silver broach that she wore on the bodice of her dress. Order and discipline were the foundations on which she had built her reputation. And, as the headmistress of the school, Miss Crawford continually strived to uphold these two principles.

Miss Crawford's study was a light, airy room, close to the front entrance of the school. It looked out onto a well-manicured lawn and gave the headmistress an excellent vantage point to survey her kingdom. No one could approach the front doors of the academy, without being observed by its fierce protector.

It was a beautifully sunny afternoon in late September. The sun streamed into Miss Crawford's study through several large sash windows that almost reached to the ceiling. Fine particles of dust, suspended in the air, floated in and out of these illuminated shafts. The sunlight reflected off each speck, making them gleam as they meandered through the light.

Miss Crawford stood up and walked over to the tray. As she poured the tea, Verity could hear the comforting sounds of the gentle clatter of china, mingled with the distance sounds of the younger pupils, playing on the lawn outside the window. 'There you are, my dear,' Miss Crawford said as she handed a cup and saucer to Verity.

They sat quietly for several minutes, drinking their tea until Miss Crawford broke the silence. 'Miss Stanford,' she began, 'I have asked you to join me today because it has been a long time since I have had the opportunity to talk to you alone.' She took another sip of tea and then placed the cup and saucer on the side table next to her.

The two women began to swap pleasantries about what they had done during the summer months. Miss Crawford told Verity about her trip to visit her sister in Scotland. And in return, Verity told Miss Crawford about her summer at the school, supervising the small number of pupils that had nowhere to go during the extended vacation. The conversation had been stilted, and Verity was becoming suspicious that Miss Crawford had an ulterior motive for her presence that afternoon.

After their awkward conversation, Miss Crawford looked directly at Verity. 'Miss Stanford,' she said with her hands folded neatly in her lap, 'there is another reason why I asked you to join me here today.'

There was another protracted silence. 'Verity, my dear,' Miss Crawford eventually said, 'I know you are a very private person, and I do not wish to pry, but...'

She remembered that the last time Miss Crawford had used her given name, and called her Verity, she had told her the tragic news of her sister's disappearance. All in all, it had been a difficult year, and Verity had learnt that the only way to cope with the grief she constantly felt, was to keep her emotions buried deep inside.

Miss Crawford leant forward in her chair, keeping her back straight and her hands neatly folded in her lap. 'Are you quite alright, my dear? I have been worried about you.'

To Verity's surprise, she did not break down into tears in response to Miss Crawford's enquiry. She knew that had to do, to deflect the question, was smile and answer it confidently. Verity then sat up straight, looked up at Miss Crawford directly and smiled. 'There is nothing to worry about, ma'am' she said positively, 'I am well.'