A Principle of Honour

Chapter 24

It was a few hours before dawn when the night was at its darkest when Verity left the ball. As she travelled back from the ball in the Harrington's carriage, she looked out of the window. Verity recognised the familiar streets of Brussels that only a few hours ago, had seemed so familiar. Soldiers, dressed in their uniforms, were huddled together in their respective regiments. Some were leaning against the walls, and, being familiar with the unpredictability of war, they were trying to snatch a little rest. They knew, from experience, it could be some time before they would get the chance to sleep again. The central park, which, only just that afternoon, had been full of ladies and gentlemen parading around without a care in the world, was now crowded with soldiers using the open space as a temporary barracks. Their campfires twinkled in the distance, like stars in the night sky, as they patiently waited for the coming dawn and their order to march.

As the carriage made its way through the cobbled streets, no one, not even Lady Harrington, spoke a word to each other. When they arrived at the townhouse, they quickly bade each other goodnight and went their separate ways. Once Verity had returned to her room, she remembered the letter from her brother, that was still unread and hidden in the recesses of her reticule.

Once the maid had helped Verity undress and had been dismissed, Verity sat on the edge of her bed with her reticule on her lap. She carefully removed the letter and immediately recognised the familiar untidy scrawl of her brother's hand, spelling out her name.

Verity turned the letter over and looked at the family crest that had been imprinted by her brother's signet ring. She opened the seal carefully without destroying the red wax disc, and then she began to read the letter. "Dear Verity," it began, "I intended to visit you, but unfortunately, I have been called back to my regiment. I know I do not deserve it, but please accept my apologies for how I have treated you and Cassie. If I get out of this alive, I will come back and make it right. Yours as ever, your brother, Reggie."

The letter was brief, but heartfelt, and brought tears to Verity's eyes. If she had had a chance to see her brother just one more time before he went to war, she would have accepted his apology wholeheartedly. She would have told him not to worry about her, or Cassie, and she would have also told him to look after himself and come back safely without injury. However, it was too late. He was on the eve of his first conflict, and he would not know that she had forgiven him.

Verity climbed into bed and tried to sleep, but sleep alluded her. She could still hear the noise of bugles issuing orders from the street below, even though her bedchamber was at the back of the house. Dawn was just beginning to break, when Verity, curious about what was happening outside, put a wrapper around her shoulders and crept to the drawing room at the front of the house.

The drawing room was empty when she opened the door. Once she was inside, she walked across the room, over to one of the large windows that looked out onto the street below. She carefully opened the shutters, folding them back into the position they usually occupied during the day. The faint orange light, from the rising sun, was beginning to flood the street. She watched as, on the bugler's command, soldiers formed themselves into columns and began to march up the cobbled streets. Verity continued to look at them as regiment after regiment marched past. And she began to wonder how many of these men would be alive at the end of the day.

Verity's thoughts were interrupted by Lord Harrington, who had come in unnoticed while she had been looking out of the window. 'I am sorry, my dear,' he said soothingly, 'I thought I heard someone in here.'

'I could hear the soldiers from my room at the back of the house,' Verity replied, as she continued to look out of the window.

'They have received their marching orders,' Lord Harrington said as he walked over to her, 'I was told earlier this evening that they are going to march towards a village called Waterloo.'