by Liese Anning
Over the next week, all Verity could do was wait. She was starting to get a little impatient, but Maisie was always there to persuade her that she was following the best course of action. On a Wednesday morning, exactly a week after her initial meeting with Mr Huntley, she received a note from him. He wanted to meet her that afternoon. But all that morning, Verity found it hard to concentrate on teaching. She was far too anxious, thinking about any information regarding her sister he may have found, to do any effective teaching.
Verity slipped out of school without informing anyone where she was going. She had been in two minds whether to tell Maisie about the meeting with Mr Huntley, but Maisie had disappeared early without telling anyone where she was going. Recently, Maisie had become secretive. On at least two occasions, Verity had seen one of the maids give Maisie, what looked like, a hand-delivered letter. She half suspected that Maisie was on her way to meet Captain Richardson. Verity felt guilty that she had not paid any attention to her friend’s affairs, but her mind was full of her worries. She had to trust that Maisie would never jeopardise her position at the school over a man.
Mr Huntley was waiting for her in an inn located on a side street, in the centre of Brussels. It was a dingy looking establishment, and under normal circumstances, Verity would never have entered it on her own. She recognised Mr Huntley immediately. He was still wearing the same scruffy clothes he had worn on their first meeting. He sat in a corner, smoking a pipe and drinking ale from a pewter jug. The smell of stale beer and sweat hung heavily in the air, and the room was thick with a haze of smoke.
Verity walked cautiously over to the table. 'Good afternoon, Mr Huntley,' she said politely.
He mumbled a greeting and motioned for her to sit down opposite him. Verity obeyed his instructions and gingerly sat down on the wooden stool.
'Have you got my money, Miss?' he said, in a menacing voice, tapping the table with his finger. 'The deal was, that I got paid before I told you anything.'
'Yes, of course,' Verity said quietly, as she took out her purse from her pocket. The inn was very busy, and they sat in the corner, furthest away from the door. Verity felt very uncomfortable sitting so far away from the exit. She looked around nervously as she took out the agreed sum and placed it on the table in front of him.
He took the money, counted it and put it in his pocket. He then took the pipe out of his mouth and coughed. He reached into his pocket and removed the miniature she had given him, and placed it on the table. 'I know where she is,' he said, pointing at the small enamel likeness.
Verity, who had been looking nervously at the door, now looked at him and sat up straight. 'Her?' she said, pointing at the miniature. 'You have seen this woman?'
He nodded.
'Where?' she asked, leaning forward and touching the gilt frame. Her nervousness was beginning to disappear.
'I saw her with the tall soldier, the one with...yellow hair,' he motioned to his head as he spoke.
'My brother?' she asked again, leaning her elbows on the table.
He nodded.
'Where?' she asked, again looking at him, 'please tell me where I can find her.'
He motioned to the serving girl and ordered another jug of ale. The ale arrived, and he began to drink. 'Please tell me,' she asked, again looking directly at him. 'Is it money?' She asked getting her purse out again, 'I can give you...'
'Put your money away,' he said after he had drained his glass. 'You have already paid me. I'm not a dishonest man.'
'Then tell me, where is she,' Verity said, putting authority into her voice.
He sighed, 'my sister likes you, Miss. She tells me you're a kind, respectable young woman of noble birth.'
'Please, Mr Huntley, I must know where she is?' Verity said, once more.
Mr Huntley drew on his pipe, sat back and sighed. 'I've seen the young woman, in the picture, several times,' he said, pointing at the miniature, still, face up on the table. 'Are you sure you want to know?'
'Yes,' Verity said, forcefully, 'and you must tell me! Was she with my brother? The tall blond gentleman.'
He sighed, once more, and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. 'Sometimes, but not all the time.' He replied, awkwardly. 'Your brother goes to a fancy club where all the flash coves hang out. Mainly officers and the other gentlemen that have found their way to Brussels. He hangs out there most evenings.'
'What has all this got to do with my sister?' Verity asked impatiently.
'Be patient, Miss, I'll get to your sister presently,' he replied, pausing to blow a cloud of smoke into the already smoky room. 'The club, from the outside, is a respectable gentleman's establishment. During the day, gentleman goes there to read newspapers, smoke and talk about whatever posh gents talk about these days.' He drew on his pipe once more, this time making a series of smoke rings that floated slowly towards the ceiling before they were incorporated into the general haze. 'Later, at night, they open rooms, at the back, for gambling.'
Verity waited for him to continue, but he stopped and looked down at the table. 'Mr. Huntley,' she said, after waiting for him to continue, 'I am aware of my brother's gambling habits. I would be astonished if he did not frequent such an establishment. But, I still do not see that this has anything to do with my sister.'
Mr Huntley put his pipe on the table. 'Miss Stanford,' he said, motioning towards the miniature, 'it was not only your brother I saw there.'
'Cassie? My sister? Are you certain?' Verity asked, leaning forward. 'It is a gentleman's club. What would Cassie be doing there? Surely not gambling?'
'No,' replied Mr Huntley, 'your sister was not gambling.'
'Then what was she doing there?' Mr Huntley sighed, once more. It was evident to Verity that he was uncomfortable, but she had to pursue her enquiries.
'The gentlemen don't just go there to gamble,' he said, at last. 'They also go to...' He stopped and banged his pipe against the wall to dislodge the spent tobacco. He pulled out a pouch from a pocket, from inside his jacket, and refilled his pipe. 'For feminine company.'
Verity's blood ran cold. She may have led a sheltered life, but Verity knew what the services the "feminine company" in question would be supplying. Her visit to Highfields and Lord Melrose's proposal had given her a glimpse into that murky world. There must be some mistake, she thought to herself, how could her sister get caught up in such a life? 'Is she...?' Verity stopped, she could not even ask the question.
Mr Huntley, sensing her distress, nodded, 'yes, Miss, I'm afraid she is one of the women that provides companionship to the gentleman members.'
'And my brother is aware of this?' She asked him, puzzled.
'As far as I could make out, the young gent in question positively encourages her.' Mr Huntley said, lifting his pipe and taking a short succession of puffs to help relight it. 'I saw him twice...' Mr Huntley stopped when he saw her cry. 'This is why I didn't want to tell you, Miss. I knew you'd get all upset.'
Verity was cross with herself for crying. The shock of hearing that her brother was encouraging their sister's life was difficult. She took a deep breath. When did crying ever solve anything, she thought to herself. Once she had regained control over her emotions, she continued to question Mr Huntley. 'What else do you know about the club?'
'It's a shady business,' he said, 'there's a rich cove called Ellington in charge.'
'Ellington,' she repeated, 'do you mean Major Ellington?'
'Yes, that's the chap. He swans around the place as if he owns it. He likes your sister,' he said, again pointing at the miniature, 'I saw him with her on several occasions.'
'And my brother?' she asked, hoping for a little more information.
'He's a gambler, alright. Plays deep. Sometimes wins, but mostly loses. Not the best player I've ever seen.'
'I have to get her out,’ Verity said. The tears she had shed earlier had dried up. 'Mr. Huntley,' she said, at last, 'you must help me get my sister out of there.'
'Miss, I don't think that's wise.
There's big coves guarding the door, and I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of them.'
Verity ignored his warning, 'you could help me get into the club, and then I could talk to my sister and arrange her escape.'
'Again, Miss, I don't think that's wise. How are you going to get into the club? A lady, such as yourself, would stick out like a sore thumb.'
'I would not go like this?' she said, her voice now full of excitement, 'I could go in disguise.'
'And what if your sister doesn't want to come with you?' he asked, still needing convincing. 'I don't mean to be rude, but the young lady in question, looked like she was enjoying herself.'
Verity looked at Mr Huntley directly, 'but I have to try?'
'I still don't think it's a good idea,' he said, frowning. 'You should not go there. It's not right.'
'I can pay,' she said, looking at him earnestly. 'I still have some money put aside. I will pay whatever you ask.'
'I don't know...' Mr Huntley said cautiously.
'I have twenty pounds.' Verity said, looking at him earnestly. 'I will pay you all the money I have.'
Twenty pounds was a good deal of money to Mr Huntley, and he could not pass up the opportunity to earn so much, for just one night's work. 'I would want to be paid before I take you,' he said, 'and if anything goes wrong, you'll be on your own, Miss. I can't help you if you get caught.'
Verity nodded. 'Of course,' she said, holding her chin up high, 'I would not expect you to help me, just to get me in.'
Chapter 13
Once Verity had returned to the school, after her meeting with Mr Huntley, she began to make the necessary preparations for visiting her sister. Mr Huntley's reaction to her suggested disguise as a maid had been lukewarm at best. However, she managed to persuade him into thinking that it might work. Therefore, over the next few days, all Verity had to do was find a suitable outfit and wait. He had been insistent that they wait until Sunday evening, as this was the clubs least busy time, and they were less likely to be noticed.
When Verity had spoken with Mr Huntley, earlier that afternoon, she had been full of excitement. Now, in the middle of the night, as she lay awake unable to sleep, the initial excitement of finding her sister, had vanished, and she was beginning to have second thoughts about whether or not her plan would work. Mr Huntley had made it abundantly clear that he would leave her as soon as he got her into the building. He had warned her that no amount of money could persuade him to stay. She would be well and truly on her own. But, there again, once inside, how difficult would it be to find her sister? Mr Huntley had managed it with only the help of a small miniature. Surely, knowing her sister so well, it would be easy to locate her.
Early the next morning, with that thought in her mind, the usually cautious Verity went in search of a maid's dress. It never occurred to Verity that taking a dress would cause such a commotion. After all, she was only going to borrow it for a few days. Once she had finished with it, she would return it, as good as new, to its rightful owner. However, taking the dress was easier said than done. The staff, in charge of the laundry, were always on their guard against theft. It was well known that any unguarded uniform was in danger of being taken by an opportunist looking for a newer and better replacement. Most of the pupils, as well as staff, had embroidered their names to the inside of their clothing, hoping to stop this particular crime. This universal policy did indeed have the desired effect, reducing the number of uniforms that disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
It was just before dawn when Verity managed to sneak into the laundry room and take a plain black dress that belonged to one of the maids. She had recognised the name, embroidered on the back, and thought that the dress would fit, even though the maid was a little shorter than herself. Verity hid the dress under her bed and went about her everyday business, hoping that its loss would not be noticed for a few days. However, in an institution that prides itself on organisation, the loss of a dress was, of course, seen before the day had even begun.
After a day of searching every nook and cranny, the dress was no closer to being found. That evening, at supper, the main topic of conversation had been the disappearance of the dress. Madame DuPont, as her role as headmistress, had used her usual after supper address as a warning about theft and the consequences of being caught. Everyone, who had listened to the formidable grand dame, was under no illusions about how she viewed the incident and the punishment that it would bring the perpetrator. Only the thought of seeing her sister once more stopped her from returning it immediately to its rightful owner.
After supper, Verity returned to her room only to find Maisie sitting on her bed, with the dress on her lap. Maisie did not look happy. Verity sheepishly came into the room and sat next to her. 'So, you have found it,' Verity said, at last, breaking the silence that had descended upon them.
'I am lost for words, Verity,' Maisie eventually replied, 'this is not like you at all. Why have you taken it?' Verity sat quietly, looking at her hands that were resting on her lap. 'Please, Verity, I am your friend. You can trust me.'
Verity sighed and cupped her face with her hands. ‘I do not know if I can trust you,’ she eventually said. 'I have seen so little of you over the past week. And I know you have been leaving this room in the middle of the night when you think I am asleep.'
'It is none of your business where I go,' Maisie said, angrily through gritted teeth.
'Then, it is none of your business why I took the dress,' Verity replied, pointing at it.
Maisie went quiet. After the events of the past week, both women were exhausted, and they both were finding it difficult not to bicker.
'Maisie,' Verity eventually said, 'I am not trying to keep anything from you. It is just that recently, you have seemed so preoccupied.'
'I know,' Maisie said, putting her head down and breathing in deeply, 'I do apologise.'
'Have you been meeting with Captain Richardson?' Verity asked, as she gently put her hand on her friend's arm.
Maisie nodded, 'yes,' she said, with a sigh, 'I have met with him several times over the past week.'
'Why did you not tell me?' Verity asked, putting her arm around her shoulder, 'as you have just pointed out, I am your friend, and you can trust me.'
Maisie looked at Verity and chuckled. 'Touché,' she said, as she looked at her and smiled, 'we have recently been far too secretive. Since we are going, to be honest with each other, I will go first.' Maisie put the stolen dress that she was still holding, to one side and leant back against the wall.
'I fell in love with Arthur, I mean Captain Richardson, the day we first met. He asked me if I would agree to meet him again. I knew I should not, but...' Maisie stopped and began to twist her hands together. 'He wrote me a lovely letter explaining how he felt. We then exchanged a few more messages before we started to meet.'
'What about his betrothal?' Verity asked, taking Maisie's hand in hers.
'He has always been honest with me. On that first day, he explained to me that both their families had arranged his forthcoming marriage. You see, Verity, his family, are in financial trouble and will lose their ancestral home if he does not marry a fortune. Once the war is over, he will marry his heiress, and there is nothing either of us can do about that. It is a fait accompli.'
'What about you? Verity said, squeezing her friend's hand a little harder. 'If he will not break his betrothal. Do you have a future together?'
'I do not know. All I know is that I love him more than my own life.' A tear fell down her cheek as she spoke. 'I am afraid, that I would follow him to the ends of the earth, married or not.'
'Oh Maisie,' Verity said, in a whisper, 'have you done something you may regret later. Have you...' Verity found it difficult to find the words, 'have you compromised yourself with him.'
Maisie went quiet and nodded. 'I know I should not, but...'
'Oh Maisie,' she said, with a sigh, 'you could ruin yourself completely. What if you were with child?'
&n
bsp; 'The odd thing is, Verity, I do not care. We are on the brink of war. Anytime now, Arthur could be called to the battlefield, and there is every chance he could die. If I did not take advantage of every precious moment we have together, then I know I would regret it forever. I can only live for the moment.' Maisie touched her heart, with her hand, as she spoke. 'As the parson always says, "for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself."' Maisie dabbed the corner of her eyes with her handkerchief and blinked several times to stop the tears. 'Anyway,' she said, as she composed herself, 'I have been honest with you, now you must be frank with me.'
Verity nodded, 'yes, it is only fair that I tell you everything,’ she said, as she sat up straight and tucked her feet under her legs, still holding her hands in her lap. 'Yesterday afternoon, I met Mr Huntley.'
'By yourself,' Maisie said surprised.
'Yes, by myself,' Verity said smiling, 'in a dingy inn, in the centre of Brussels.'
'What did he tell you?' Maisie asked curiously.
'He told me that he had seen Cassie,' Verity replied.
'Where?' Maisie said, also sitting up, 'here, in Brussels? I thought your brother was lying to you.'
'She is here,' Verity replied.
Maisie smiled and took Verity's hands in hers. 'This is excellent news. When can we visit her?'
'It is not a simple as that,' Verity whispered, 'we cannot just go and see her.'
'Why ever not?' Maisie said puzzled.
Verity explained to Maisie what Mr Huntley had found out about her sister. 'Now do you understand why we cannot just walk in and visit her?' Verity said once she had finished her explanation.
There was a look of shock on Maisie's face. Then, after a few minutes, where nothing was said, the look of shock was replaced by worry. 'Oh, Verity, you were not thinking of...' She stopped in the middle of her sentence and stood up, still holding the maid's dress in her hands. Maisie turned around and held out the dress towards Verity. 'Try to rescue your sister wearing this?'
