She gave a laugh, which was an unpleasant one, before she added,

“You must be aware that a Guardian has complete and absolute control over his Ward and, if your uncle sends you to a Convent, there is no appeal against his decision.”

She looked at Honora as she spoke, saw that her face was very white and she was trembling, and added spitefully,

“The choice is yours. There is no other alternative and however mentally half-witted you may be, I should have thought it would not be difficult for you to make up your mind.”

Honora was defeated and she knew it.

“I-I have no – vocation to be a – nun,” she said in a very small voice, “and – therefore – if you insist – I will m-marry the Duke.”

“Good!” her aunt said quickly. “I will go and explain to him that you were just overcome by the importance of his position and that was why you refused him. In the meantime get out of my sight! Go up to your bedroom and stay there! Even to look at you makes me feel sick!”

The Countess opened the door of her boudoir as she spoke and hurried back along the passage to the drawing room.

Honora stood for several minutes without moving.

Then she put her hands up to her face and covered her eyes.

She asked herself how this could possibly have happened, but she knew now that there was nothing she could do about it.

*

The Countess entered the drawing room, shut the door quietly behind her and moved swiftly towards the Duke who was still standing beside the fireplace.

As she reached him, he looked at her to say,

“This is a nice mess!”

“It is nothing of the sort, darling,” she said. “The girl was just overcome by you and the whole situation and who shall blame her? Now she has agreed to do exactly what we want and the footman can take the notice of the engagement to the newspapers.”

“What you mean,” the Duke said slowly, “is that you have bullied her into saying she will marry me.”

“She is just frightened and bewildered at the idea of becoming a Duchess,” Aline replied, “Oh, my dearest man, if only I was in her shoes!”

The Duke smiled and it swept away the frown between his eyes.

“I am not certain,” he said in a very different voice, “that you would make a very good Duchess.”

“The only thing that could matter,” Aline said passionately, “would be that I was your wife.”

She lifted her face to his as she spoke and, as if he could not help himself, the Duke put his arms around her and kissed her lips.

Then, fearing they might be disturbed, he released her to ask,

“Are you quite certain that there is nothing else we can do? I did not expect your niece to refuse me.”

“But you told her the reason why you were doing it.”