She was just about to do so, when two men came up.
“’Avin’ a bit of trouble, Molly?” one of them asked.
“This ’ere woman’s trespassin’ on my beat!” she said. “I tells ’er she ain’t got no right ’ere, but ’er don’t seem to understand plain English!”
The men were dark and rather unpleasant-looking and, as they turned to Honora, she said quickly,
“I am sorry if I have done anything – wrong. I did not mean to upset – anybody. I will go – away.”
She meant once again to cross the road, but at that moment there was a carriage coming and she had to wait for it to pass.
She did not see the two men look at each other with knowing glances and one of them said,
“We’ll look after you, me dear, and prevent you upsettin’ Molly. There’s plenty of other places just as good as this.”
They caught hold of Honora’s arms and now she was very frightened.
“It’s quite all right, thank you,” she said. “I will go back from – where I – came.”
“I thinks that’d be a mistake,” one of the men said.
“So do I,” the other one agreed. “You come along wiv us.”
“ No! No!” Honora exclaimed. “I don’t want to do – that!”
She tried to move away from them, but to her consternation she found that there was a man on either side of her, holding onto her arms.
As they held her so that she could not escape from them, a Hackney carriage came down the road and one of them hailed it.
“N-no – please – I have to go – back to my – house!” she said quickly.
They did not seem to hear her and before she could realise what was happening they had bundled her into the Hackney carriage.
So that she could not escape they sat one on each side of her and she was sandwiched between them.
As the carriage drove off, she said quickly,
“Please – you are making a great – mistake. I live just across the other side of the road and that is – where I must – return.”
“You can tell that to Kate!” one of the men said. “She’ll know ’ow to deal with the likes of you!”
“You don’t understand,” Honora said miserably. “I merely came from my house because I thought I could go into the Park and sit under the trees for a few minutes. They will – worry when I don’t – return.”
She thought as she spoke that the Duke would think it very strange when he went up to her bedroom to find her gone.
She wondered if the footman would tell him that she had left the house and if he would think that even stranger.
She had no idea what the men intended to do with her and she was so frightened that she had nothing more to say as she sat jammed between them.
She was quite certain if she screamed or made a fuss the cabman driving the Hackney carriage would take no notice of her.
‘What can I – do? What – can I do?’ she thought frantically.
She suddenly had an idea and said,
“If it is money you want, take me back and I will pay you whatever you want for doing so.”
“We’re takin’ you to see Kate and that’s all there is about it,” the man said almost as if it was a lesson he had learned by heart.
“Who is – Kate?”
“You’ll find out when we gets there! And there ain’t no point makin’ a fuss, that’s for sure!”
Honora wondered frantically what she should do.
She had a feeling that there was no use in trying any more arguments with these two men, who seemed rather stupid.
She thought perhaps Kate, whoever she might be, would be intelligent enough to realise that she could not disappear from Tynemouth House without there being a hue and cry for her.
They were driving now through streets bright with lights and there seemed to be quite a number of people about.
Then, as Honora was still wondering whether she should appeal once again to the men who were holding her to all intents and purposes prisoner, the carriage came to a standstill.
She glanced through the window and saw that there were two lanterns outside a tall house with steps leading up to a front door, which also had a light over it.
The men climbed out of the carriage, one paid the cabman and then with one on each side of her, as if they were afraid that she would run away, they walked up the steps.
The front door was ajar and they pushed it open.
As they entered, Honora saw that the house was larger than she would have expected. There was a hall out of which opened a number of doors and a staircase leading to the next floor, over the banisters of which two women were leaning.
One glance at them told her that their faces were painted in the same way that Molly’s was and one of them called out,
“Wot you got there, Jim?”
“We wants Kate. Fetch ’er for us. Which room’s empty?”
“The one on the left,” the woman replied.
Without saying any more the men half-pulled, half-propelled Honora, although she was making no effort to resist them, to a door at the side of the hall.
To her surprise it seemed to be a bedroom but quite unlike any she had ever seen before.
The walls were bright pink where there were large mirrors that reflected and re-reflected her image as she came in through the door.
The bed was draped in pink also but one glance told her that it was of a very cheap material and there was no corolla to hold the curtains, but a large satin bow attached to a hook they were draped over.
She stood looking round her while the men waited at the half-open door until there was a voice shouting some instructions to somebody outside and a moment later a woman came into the bedroom.
She was so amazing that Honora could only stare at her.
She was a large middle-aged woman heavily painted in the same way as Molly and the girls on the banisters.
She was wearing a flamboyant evening gown with the bodice embroidered with large diamanté, while the skirt was covered with frills caught up with bunches of cheap cotton roses.
Round her neck was a fake diamond necklace and she wore earrings to match it, which hung from her ears to her fat shoulders.
Her hair, which was frizzed and curled until it looked almost grotesque, was hennaed and her voice seemed to echo loudly round the room as she exclaimed,
“Wot the devil ’ave you got ’ere?”
“We found ’er on Molly’s patch, Kate, ’avin’ an argument, they was. We thinks the best thing, as she’s pretty, was to bring ’er ’ere to you.”
Kate stood and looked Honora over in a manner that made her feel very uncomfortable.
“P-please – let me explain – ” she began.
“Who are you? Wot’s your name?” Kate interrupted.
“I am the Duchess of Tynemouth!”
Kate reached out and struck her a sharp slap across the cheek.
“That’s a lie for a start,” she said, “and I wants the truth!”
Honora found it impossible to breathe or move and after a moment she put her hand up to her cheek feeling it could not be true that this common woman had hit her.
As she did so, the movement made her cloak that she had clasped at the neck come undone.
Kate and the two men standing watching her saw the gown she wore underneath it and the pearl necklace, which had been one of her wedding presents, round her neck.
For a moment there was silence.
Then Kate commanded,
“Tell me who you are, and I wants the truth this time!”
“It – is the – truth!” Honora insisted, unable to prevent the tremor in her voice. “I-I was – m-married this m-morning.”
“And you’re walkin’ in Park Lane tonight? You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”
Suddenly the man called Jim gave an exclamation.
“Wait a minute, Kate!”
He put his hand into his pocket and drew out a newsp
aper that was protruding from it, opened it, turned over the pages and then passed it to Kate.
She looked down at it and then asked sharply,
“Who did you say you was?”
“I – am the – Duchess of – Tynemouth,” Honora stammered, afraid that she would be struck again.
“And you was married this mornin’?”
“Yes.”
“Where was you married?”
“At Langstone House – in Berkshire. It is where my uncle and aunt – live.”
Kate stared at her as if to be quite certain that she was telling the truth before she said, reading from the newspaper,
“Wot was the name of the Parson as married you?”
“The Bishop – of Oxford.”
Kate looked at her searchingly, at the pearls she wore round her wrist and at the gown she wore under her cloak.
Then she ordered sharply,
“Wait ’ere!”
Kate and the men went from the room shutting the door behind them and Honora, feeling as if her legs would no longer carry her, sat down on the edge of the bed.
She realised as she did so how foolish she had been to leave the house at night and become involved in anything so sordid.
It had never struck her for one moment that it might be dangerous or that anybody would object to her walking in Hyde Park or sitting under the trees.
She had never been allowed to go out in Florence alone, but that was different because she had been a schoolgirl.
When she was staying in Grosvenor Square with her aunt and uncle she had often slipped out into the gardens in the centre of the square when she had, although it was rare, a moment to herself.
Having lived when she was at home in the country with her father and mother, it was only now she remembered that the garden in the square was private and only the householders had special keys with which to open the gate leading into it.
‘I have been so stupid!’ she thought with a sigh.
She wondered if Kate would allow her to communicate with the Duke and ask him to come and fetch her.
A few minutes later Kate and the two men came back into the room and she rose to her feet, her eyes very wide and frightened.
“If you be the Duchess of Tynemouth, as you says you are,” Kate said in her common voice, “then I presumes your ’usband’ll want you back wiv him, ’specially as it’s ’is weddin’ night!”
The two men sniggered.
Remembering that this was exactly what she had been running away from, Honora felt the colour come into her cheeks as Kate went on,
“In which case, you’d better write to him and tell him to come and fetch you.”
“May I do that?” Honora asked. “I know he will come at once. I realise now that it was very – foolish of me to – leave the house as – I did.”
“Wot your ’usband thinks about it ain’t none of my business,” Kate answered, “but I’m sure ’e’ll be ever so grateful to us for lookin’ after you.”
The way she spoke made Honora stare at her before she asked,
“Are you – holding me to – ransom?”
Jim laughed before he said,
“She’s sharper than we gives ’er credit for, even if ’er didn’t know wot Molly was talkin’ about!”
“You keep your mouth shut!” Kate said rudely. “Yes, Duchess, you bein’ held to ransom and you can only ’ope your ’ubby’ll pay up for you. Otherwise you’ll ’ave to stay wiv me!”
Jim sniggered again, but Kate ignored him.
Honora noticed now that she was holding in her hand a tray on which there was a piece of writing paper and a bottle of ink and a pen.
She set them down on a table that stood in a corner of the room covered with a pink cloth that was spotted with marks from glasses and said,
“Now then, you write to your ’ubby and tell him to come and fetch you quickly, explain that after all the trouble and expense we’ve gone to, we wants three ’undred pounds to let you go!”
“Three hundred pounds?” Honora exclaimed.
“Why not five ’undred pounds?” Jim questioned. “After all, it’s ’is weddin’ night!”
“You right!” Kate cried. “Wiv all them racehorses ’e’s got ’e can well afford five ’undred pounds, if not a thousand!”
“Oh, please – ” Honora begged, “don’t ask too much money! He will never have such a large sum with him.”
She was worried that she might have to spend the night in this horrible place.
“That sounds reasonable,” Kate answered. “Make it five ’undred pounds. Gentlemen ’as that sort of money in the house.”
Honora thought miserably that there was no point in arguing any further and had a frantic desire to get away from this awful place.
She was frightened of the strange spectacle that Kate made, of Jim and the other man and of the girls with their painted faces.
She could see them occasionally peeping round the door when they thought Kate was not looking.
The ink was thin and not very black and the pen was very scratchy, but finally she managed to write,
“I am sorry for being so foolish, but I have been captured by two men and brought here. They say, if you will pay them five hundred pounds for the trouble I have caused, you can come to collect me.
I am writing this letter to beg you to come as quickly as you can.
I am very very sorry,
Honora.”
Almost before she had finished signing her name, Kate had snatched the letter and began to read it slowly.
“That oughta squeeze the money out of a heart of stone!” she laughed.
She handed it back to Honora saying,
“Address it!”
There appeared to be no envelope so Honora folded the paper, turned it over and addressed it to,
“His Grace the Duke of Tynemouth,
Tynemouth House,
Park Lane.”
She then handed it to Kate who went from the room talking to the two men in whispers as she did so.
Then, as if as an afterthought, she came back, picked up the tray with the ink and pen on it and went out again.
Honora had the idea that they too were writing a letter to the Duke and she wondered what they were saying to him.
Then, as if she was almost past thinking about it, she put her hand up to her forehead wondering if the Duke would be very angry when he received her letter.
The door opened and one of the girls she had seen peering over the banisters peeped in. She was wearing a transparent nightgown and over it a rather dirty wrap.
“You’re a real Duchess, are you?” she said. “I’ve seen Dukes, but never a Duchess afore. You looks too young.”
Honora found herself smiling.
“I only became one this morning.”
“Now if I was a Duchess,” the girl went on, “I shouldn’t be walkin’ about gettin’ meself involved wiv Molly. ’Er like as not to scratch your eyes out! She’s got the temper of a wildcat.”
“I cannot understand why she was so – annoyed with me,” Honora said.
“I’ll tell you why – ” the girl began.
At that moment there was a loud voice shouting in the hall behind her and she gave a start and said,
“That’s Lord Roxton! I thought ’e’d be along tonight.”
Without saying any more she shut the door and Honora stared after her.
She could hear voices being raised outside as somebody walked past the door. She had a sudden fear that Lord Roxton, or whoever it was, would come into the room and find her there.
She was quite certain that the Duke would not want his friends or anybody else to learn how stupid she had been in leaving the house at night and becoming involved with people who were asking ransom money for her.
After a little while the noise of voices stopped and there was silence again.
‘How could I have been so foolish?’ Honora asked herself.
The question kept repea
ting and repeating itself over and over in her mind until what seemed to be hours later the door of the bedroom opened again.
CHAPTER SIX
When Honora left the sitting room, the Duke had poured himself some more brandy.
As he drank it, he felt a little of the resentment and irritation he had been feeling all day begin to melt away.
He also acknowledged that dinner with his new wife had not been such a bore as he had expected and she was certainly very lovely.
If he had not realised that himself, everybody he had spoken to had eulogised over Honora’s beauty until he had found it difficult because of his resentment over the wedding not to argue with them.
Only now, almost against his will, he conceded that, if he had to take a wife ready-made for him, Honora was everything she should be and tonight he had found her intelligent.
The mere thought that he had a wife was to revive the resentment he had felt when he drove to the Church with his Best Man and found himself hating the ceremony that was waiting for him, as he had hated it ever since he awoke.
He had not slept well and very early he had risen to walk to the window and look out at the mist around the trees in Hyde Park and the first rays of the sun sweeping away the last remaining stars.
He had a yearning, even as Honora had had, to run away, to disappear at the last moment and leave the wedding without a bridegroom.
Then he knew that was impossible for, whatever his feelings, he had to behave like a gentleman and as befitted his position at Court.
At the same time he was man enough to despise himself for being forced into doing something quite contrary to his inclination instead of insisting on his independence.
‘This is the price I pay for my title,’ he thought bitterly.
The same bitterness seemed to make everything he thought seem ugly and, when he put the ring on Honora’s finger, he had felt it was a shackle that made him a prisoner for the rest of his life.
He realised now that without being aware of it he had finished his glass of brandy and he played with the idea of having another one.
Then he told himself that he had never been a hard drinker and was certainly not going to start now.
Almost as if his years of training and self-control forced him to behave like a soldier going into battle, he put down his empty glass, squared his shoulders and walked towards the door.
The Unwanted Wedding Page 11