A Principle of Honour

Chapter 28

October 1815

It was a dark grey November morning, and the days were drawing in. Everyone at the Bristol Academy was complaining about the weather and the impending winter that was promising to be harsh. Everyone except Verity. She was grateful to be back in the place that she called home.

'Why did Henry VIII execute Anne Boleyn?' a voice called out from the back of the classroom, 'I think it was very unfair and cruel.'

'And,' another girl said, 'she was not the only wife he executed.'

'Who was the other wife?' Verity said, looking out across the classroom of students. They all sat in neat rows, behind small wooden desks. The pupils, all aged between twelve and fifteen, were dressed in the identical dark blue uniforms that were the same colour as their teacher's. The only difference was the crisp white linen pinafore that the girls wore over their dresses.

A few hands were raised, some more confidently than others, but Verity pointed the girl, who had just spoken. 'It was definitely a Katherine,' the girl said confidently. Then she added, a little less sure of herself, 'I just do not know which one.'

'Let us start naming his wives,' Verity said, smiling at the girl, 'and try and work it out from our list.'

Verity looked at the piece of chalk on her desk. It was a strange feeling being back at the Bristol Academy teaching once more. In some ways, it felt as though she had never left, and that the last year had been a strange dream. As soon as she had walked through the door, it had felt once more like she was home. But, it was not quite the same. Maisie was no longer there to cheer her up when she felt down. She missed her old friend, but she had not heard from her since she had last seen her in Brussels. Even Miss Crawford, her one-time mentor, never mentioned her name.

The Harrington's had been very kind to her. They had travelled with her back to England, and she had stayed with them, over the summer, in their country estate in Somersetshire. Lady Harrington had wanted her to stay for longer. She had tried to persuade Verity to remain in Somersetshire with them and then, later in the year, travel to London for the season. Lady Harrington had said, 'Verity, you would make an excellent wife and mother, but how are you going to find a husband if you go back to that school.'

Verity could not countenance the thought of marriage. She had fallen in love with James, so very easily, that she doubted that she would ever be able to love like that again. It was far too painful. Lady Harrington had tried to persuade her that love was not the only factor that was important in a marriage; respect, a comfortable home and children, were also to be considered. They would make up for the absence of any love. But, to Verity, these, on their own would never be enough. There were more important things in life than a comfortable home.

Verity had always prided herself on her independence. Since the age of seventeen, when she had become a member of staff, she had always supported herself financially. After her time in Brussels, and what she had seen happen to her sister, her independence had become even more important than ever to her. She was not willing to give that up for just any man, and certainly not for her own comfort.

Therefore, Verity had insisted that she was going to go back to the school to work once more as a teacher. The Harrington's had reluctantly agreed as long as she consented to spend the holidays with them in Somersetshire. Verity agreed, and in a few weeks, she would be travelling to their home to spend the winter holidays in their company. Verity was grateful for their friendship, it was one of the better things that had come out of her time in Brussels.

She stood up, from her sloped wooden desk, and walked over to the blackboard that was on a wooden stand next to her desk. 'Shall we list all his wives, in the order he married them?' she said as she wrote the title Henry's wives, at the top of the blackboard, and underlined it twice.