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!”