‘He must not do such a thing!’ she thought and turned her head intending to go back into the room and tell him so.

Then somehow she realised in a way she never had before that she was his wife. She must behave as he expected her to and there was no one to help her, no way in which she could escape!

‘He cannot do this, he must not!’ she thought frantically.

Once again she felt as if there was a heavy weight within her breast and it was impossible to think.

Instinctively her feet carried her towards the staircase, when, as she reached it, she saw lying on a chair the cloak which she had brought with her in the phaeton, but which it had been too warm to wear.

She supposed it had been left there for the morning when they would be leaving for Leicestershire.

As she looked at it an idea came to her.

She had to think, she had to consider what to do about tonight and what she could say to the Duke.

It was almost as if the walls of the house were closing in on her, creating a prison from which she could never escape and in which she lost her identity so completely that she was no longer herself.

‘I must think – I must – think!’ she thought desperately.

She picked up the cloak and put it over her shoulders, then walked to the front door.

When she reached it, she realised that the footman in attendance was looking at her in surprise.

“Please open the door!” she said quickly.

“Do you want a carriage, Your Grace?”

“No, thank you.”

The door was opened and she walked outside and down the steps to the pavement.

Just across the road was Hyde Park and she thought she would go and sit under the trees and think what she should do.

It would be easier to think in the open than in the house, where the Duke was intending to come up to her bedroom at any moment and perhaps would not listen to what she had to tell him.

There was no traffic about and she crossed the road, but only when she reached the pavement on the other side did she see the iron railings that surrounded Hyde Park.

She knew there were gates that led into it, but she was not certain whether they were open at night. However, she walked down Park Lane thinking that when she came to the gates she would find whether they were open or closed.

As she walked, she was turning over and over in her mind what her aunt had said and hearing the Duke remark in what she thought was a dry tone,

“I shall not be long!”

Quite suddenly she was arrested by a woman’s voice saying furiously,

“’Ere, wot d’you think you’re a-doin’ of? This be my beat and you’ve no right on it!”

Honora came to a standstill.