Goddess of the Green Room: (Georgian Series) (33 page)

‘I was probably not in London. I did not come here until ten years ago.’

‘Ten years,’ she murmured. ‘Ten years. It seems but yesterday. I believed him, you know. When he wrote eternal faithfulness I was young and romantic to believe him. That is what we poor women do, is it not, Mrs Jordan?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Dorothy. ‘Do you want me to speak to Mr Sheridan when I have read the play?’

‘Only to tell him that you will enjoy playing the part. I thought it would go on for ever. I gave up the stage. The
friend
of the
Prince of Wales could not go on playing, I was told. Sheridan said that if I left I would never come back. He said the public was fickle. They forget and will not welcome you when you return, he said. How right he was! And when it was over…’ She laughed. ‘Of course there were offers. So many offered. Mr Fox was my good friend and helped me to get my settlement. And then he went off with my maid, that Mrs Armistead. They say he has married her. Is it true, do you think? Do you think a man like Mr Fox would marry a lady’s maid? And how strange that she… who used to wait on me… should be Mrs Charles James Fox! Life is strange, Mrs Jordan.’

‘It is very strange,’ agreed Dorothy. She rose. She had a great desire to get out of this room. She felt uneasy. This woman was trying to say something to her. ‘You are looking at yourself in fifteen years’ time. The woman who gave up everything for love. The woman who did not consider the cost.’ But that was not true. Mrs Robinson had considered the cost. She had her settlement. She had bartered his letters for it. Everyone knew the story of Mrs Robinson and the Prince of Wales.

‘Pray do not go yet. I have asked my dear daughter to bring us in a dish of tea. It is not often that we have the pleasure of entertaining the famous Mrs Jordan.’ She called, ‘Maria! Maria, my dear. Pray bring in the tea.’

The daughter came at once.

‘Oh, Mrs Jordan, I am so pleased you are staying,’ she said. ‘Mamma gets so few visitors and she does love to talk. Are you comfortable, Mamma?’

Perdita smiled at her daughter. ‘You see how I am looked after, Mrs Jordan? Sit with us awhile, my dear. Mrs Jordan has promised to stay and talk to me.’

But it was Perdita who talked; she talked of that high-light in her life when for a brief time she had been the mistress of the Prince of Wales. She made Dorothy see the romantic meetings on Eel Pie Island, the entreaties of the Prince before she would give way. ‘And I gave all for love.’ She spoke in dramatic clichés. ‘And you will understand that, Mrs Jordan. I should have been wise, should I not? But who ever was wise in love? I loved not wisely but too well! And I did not count the cost. But I have my dear daughter and we manage to get along, do we not, my pet?’

‘We manage very well, Mamma. Have you talked to Mrs Jordan about the play?’

‘Mrs Jordan is going to speak to Mr Sheridan about it and she wants to play the main part. This play must run for years. There will always be those who need to be warned against the sin of gambling. It was gambling which ruined him, you know. Oh, he was handsome in those days! He has grown a little gross now… but still elegant… and of course, magnificent. But he could never be faithful. We heard so much of Mrs Fitzherbert.’ Her lip curled in contempt, but the envy showed in her eyes; she was not actress enough to hide that. ‘But she did not last, either. And this poor woman he has married. But it never lasts! It never lasts with princes.’

She is telling me to beware, thought Dorothy. What does she expect me to do, to keep his letters to use them as she used George’s?

‘ “Princes, princes,” ’ went on Perdita, ‘ “put not your trust in princes.” ’

Dorothy said the tea was delicious. She must discover their tea merchant. And now she must go. She would give Mrs Robinson an early report on the play.

‘It was good of you to come,’ said Perdita. ‘I
had
to see you. An actress like myself… It reminded me so much…’

Driving to her house in Somerset Street Dorothy could not shake off the mood of depression.

For the first time she felt insecure. She could not get out of her mind the memory of that poor woman with her painted face and her exaggerated gestures; she could imagine so clearly how beautiful she must once have been; she could picture so vividly her romance with the young Prince of Wales.

And then… the disillusionment and the end.

‘Put not your trust in princes.’

It was like a chilly wind blowing up on a lovely warm summer’s day.

Somewhat against his better judgement Sheridan decided to put on Mrs Robinson’s play which was under the uninspiring title of
Nobody
. The sentiments expressed, he knew, would anger many, for the theatre was patronized by gamblers and were they going to
sit meekly in their places and listen to a diatribe against their favourite pastime? There would be a hostile reception, he feared. Besides, Mrs Robinson was no genius. On the other hand, she had been the central character in a famous scandal, and the fact that the principal actress was the mistress of a prince and Mrs Robinson had been the mistress of his elder brother did have a certain value. Moreover, he was desperate for new plays. The old favourites had been repeated so many times and although an audience would call for Little Pickle when he offered them something else – he did need to replenish his repertoire. Who knew, the controversial subject might catch on.

Nobody
went into rehearsal and Sheridan promised himself that with such a cast it would have every chance of success.

It was impossible to keep its subject secret and the news went round theatrical circles that Sheridan was going to give them some tract against gambling. It would be drink next. Before they knew where they were they would be living in the sort of puritan society which had occurred after the Civil War and which, having once tasted, the people had decided they would never have again. They preferred their extravagant kings and their mistresses to that.

Sheridan was not only a theatre manager, he was a politician. Did this play reflect his own feelings? Impossible! There wasn’t a bigger gambler in the country unless it was the Prince of Wales. They had both been schooled in the art by Charles James Fox who had gambled several fortunes away. Sheridan was in debt – up to his eyes. He had reformed? Was it the case of the devil being sick and wanting to be a saint?

Whatever it was they were not having plays against gambling.

When Dorothy went into her dressing room after rehearsal there was a letter propped up on her dressing table.

She opened it and read: ‘Damn
Nobody
or you will be damned.’

She took it at once to Sheridan who shrugged his shoulders. ‘You’re not the only one who has such a letter. We’re all getting them.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Do. We’re in production. We can’t take any notice of lunatics like this.’

‘Lunatics can wreck a performance.’

He laid his hand on her shoulder.

‘We’ll have a full house,’ he said with a grin.

But she was afraid. She was immediately sensitive to the mood of an audience and hostility unnerved her. It had always been so. She lacked the absolute confidence of Sarah Siddons who could go on and forget everything but the magnificence of Sarah. Dorothy must have a friendly audience, an audience who loved her.

‘I don’t look forward to it,’ she said; and began to brood on it.

She stayed in London and did not go down to Petersham Lodge. The Duke wrote to her. He had expected her, he said with mild reproach.

She wrote and told him that she was concerned about
Nobody
and she felt she would be a hot-tempered irritable impossible-to-love creature, so she preferred to stay away. She knew the babies were well cared for, with him and the nurses.

She went to Hester to talk to her about it. It did not matter if she was irritated with Hester.

Hester thought she should make some excuse not to play. ‘After all,’ said Hester, ‘you could plead sickness.’

‘I could, but I keep thinking of that woman. I could see what it means to her. She wants this play to go on. She longs to be some sort of pioneer. It’s a kind of expiation for the past.’

Hester shrugged her shoulders. ‘The Prince of Wales didn’t feel the same need for repentance and he was the one who deserted her.’

‘But she threatened to publish his letters and this settlement was arranged. One would feel ashamed of that. I was sorry for her. She was so obviously living a part. I think she suffers a great deal in her private thoughts and that is why she plays this part… unconsciously.’

‘Some people can’t stop acting.’

‘I can’t get her out of my mind.’

Hester looked at her sharply. ‘Is all well between you and the Duke?’

‘Of course.’

Hester did not speak for some time but Dorothy knew what she was thinking. How long would it last? Already it had lasted longer than the affair between the Prince of Wales and Perdita.
It was a different sort of relationship. Cosy, almost respectable. They already had two little boys and the Duke doted on them. He was meant to be a father and she a mother.

It is different… quite different, thought Dorothy.

She said resolutely: ‘No matter what happens, I shall play my part.’

When she returned to the theatre she learned that Elizabeth Farren had decided to give up her part in
Nobody
. A friend of hers had been libelled in it and she could naturally not give her support of it. In fact her lover, the Earl of Derby, had warned her that there would be trouble and she must not play.

As the first night of
Nobody
grew nearer Dorothy grew more and more nervous.

William called at Somerset Street in the morning of the day
Nobody
was to open.

‘We hoped you would come to Petersham Lodge,’ he told her coolly. ‘George was most disappointed.’

‘Darling George! Did you explain to him that I was so busy rehearsing?’

‘I did not. Do you think he would have understood? But he might have if I’d told him that you had been to see the girls.’

‘Understood?’ she stammered.

‘That you had time for the girls but not for the boys.’

‘But that is absurd.’ The terrors of the coming night were like dragons closing in on her, breathing fire and wrath; and she had to face them. She would forget her lines. She knew she would. It was going to be a nightmare; and her family for whom she was suffering all this, because always at the back of her mind was the need for money, were carping because she needed a little respite, and had wanted to talk things over with her sister – herself an actress who had known the terrors of going on a stage when one was overcome with fright.

‘That be damned,’ said William. ‘It’s a truth. Did you not go to see them?’

‘I went to see Hester to talk about this… this nightmare of a
Nobody
. And if you can’t understand what I’m going through now I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to talk to anybody.’

‘Is that dismissal?’

‘If you have come to reproach me about something of which you are entirely ignorant, yes.’

‘I know something of the stage.’

‘The deck of the
Pegasus
is somewhat different from Drury Lane.’

Her face was flushed and angry. He had never seen her like this before.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Go to your precious girls and leave the boys to me.’

With that he left her.

She could not believe it. It was the first time he had spoken to her in that way. She thought: It was my fault. I lost my temper – and I always had an Irish temper. I wish I’d never heard of
Nobody
. That woman had been like a sinister prophetess sitting with her rouge and white lead covering her wrinkles and those bows and ribbons which were too young for her.

From the moment she had seen Perdita Robinson the doubts and fears had come – and not only for the play. She passed the day in a state of nervous tension; and was almost glad when it was time to go to the theatre.

There she found the atmosphere explosive.

Sheridan was prepared for trouble. The house was full but several employees from the gambling houses were there and clearly they had come for a purpose.

As soon as the curtain rose and the play started the audience made its disapproval clear. Rotten fruit was thrown on the stage. Even the fine ladies hissed behind their fans, and comments – derisive and abusive – were shouted at the players.

Dorothy struggled through. It can’t last forever, she kept telling herself. This nightmare will end.

She was thankful for the support of her fellow actors on that night. Whatever petty rivalries took place behind the scenes once they were in action they were real professionals. They acted as though nothing was happening. She was grateful to them on that night.

How they stumbled through to the end, she was not sure, but they did; and the curtain fell to a storm of hissing and booing.

Poor Mrs Robinson, thought Dorothy, this is the end of
Nobody
.

She felt sick and ill. Perhaps she had acted too soon after her confinement. Perhaps this life she was living was too much for her. The life of a popular actress was enough in itself; one could not be the mistress of an exacting prince and the mother of young children at the same time. Perhaps she should retire. As Perdita Robinson had?

Only if a woman had a docile partner – like Will Siddons for instance – could one combine such careers as that of prominent actress and prince’s mistress.

Is this the beginning of the end? she asked herself; and she remembered his face cold, almost hating, as he had reminded her that she had been to see the girls.

She opened her dressing room door and as she entered someone stepped from the shadows and held her.

‘William!’

‘Of course I came,’ he said. ‘That dreadful play! The audience was in a nasty mood.’

‘You were out there?’

‘No! I was back-stage. I was going to get on to that stage and carry you off if anything started.’

She felt limp with relief and happiness.