A Principle of Honour

Chapter 14

Late on Sunday night, when everyone at the school was safely tucked up in bed, Verity and Maisie crept out. The only creature that observed their departure was the old kitchen cat. He lifted his head and opened a sleepy eye. Once he had established that there was unlikely to be any victuals on offer, he closed his eye and curled up once more next to the dying fire.

Late at night, Brussels looked a very different place. Gone were the pedestrians, that crowded the pavements, and gone was the constant stream of traffic that trundled through the cobbled streets. Only soldiers, who had spent the last few hours drinking, were out in force. Some of them had stopped to shout lewd comments at the two women. However, much to Verity's relief, they did not impinge on their progress as they meandered through the streets. After being a recipient of this unwarranted attention, Verity pulled her cloak tightly around herself and buried her head in the hood. Within its dark folds, she hoped that she would find the anonymity she desired.

In the days, proceeding their honest conversation, Verity had seen little of Maisie, and Verity was becoming increasingly uneasy about her friend's prolonged disappearance. It was not until Maisie had woken her up in the early hours of that morning that they spoke again.

'Where did you find these?' Verity asked suspiciously. Looking at a pair of old evening gowns that Maisie had brought back to their room.

'Never mind that,' Maisie said dismissively, 'what you do not know, will not hurt you.'

Verity took the dress that was offered to her and held it up against her waist. Verity was much taller than its previous owner and was not impressed by how it looked against her. 'I will look quite ridiculous,' she said indignantly, 'my ankles will stick out of the bottom, and it will make me look like a scarecrow. Not only that, but it is far too small; it will never do up at the back, however much I breathe in.'

Maisie, who was suffering from a lack of sleep, said sharply, 'it will fit if you do not wear a chemise.'

'What!' Verity said, looking a little shocked at her friend's suggestion, 'but... it is transparent.'

'No buts.' Maisie said firmly. 'Try it on, without your chemise.'

Verity tried on the dress wearing only the stays that Maisie had also provided. Just as she had predicted, the dress was too tight and barely did up at the back. Verity felt exposed and spread out her hands to hide her décolletage. 'Maisie, I need a shawl or at least a fichu to preserve my modesty.'

Maisie tutted, 'You will need no such thing,' she said, as she adjusted the sleeves by pulling them down. 'That's better,' Maisie said, standing back and observing Verity with a critical eye. 'It is a little short,' she said, as she began to rummage around in her needlework basket. 'But, I know just the thing that will help.'

Within a few minutes, Maisie had pinned some lace to the bottom of the dress, making it a couple of inches longer. 'Perfect,' she said when she had finished. 'What do you think of mine?' Maisie said after she had put on her own dress.

Verity's brow furrowed. 'Maisie,' she said, her eyes wide with shock, 'it is far too revealing. It leaves nothing to the imagination.'

'Perfect,' Maisie said brightly, 'we will be able to enter unnoticed.'

The following day started as a beautifully sunny Sunday morning. But, during the day, Madame Dupont received some disturbing intelligence from France from one of her closest and most reliable friends. Ever since Napoleon had escaped from Elba, he had been marching through France, gathering together an army. Soldiers, once loyal to the French king, were now turning back to their previous commander in their droves, marching across France and heading towards the border with Belgium.