Perhaps suspecting that I might decide to retire at the close of the season, Sheridan offered me a considerable increase in salary. ‘You are hourly rising in a profession which you have enthusiastically embraced, Mary. I trust you will not decide to quit after all you have invested in it.’
I returned no decisive answer.
It was certainly true that I did love working in the theatre, and valued the independence it gave me. The public plaudits I received at every performance never failed to excite me, and were far too gratifying to be relinquished without regret. Yet after all those months of correspondence, all those heartfelt declarations of love I had received daily, I felt as if Florizel, as the prince liked to call himself, had already won me by letter. It was a poetic seduction if you like, and my longing to meet with the prince in person, my growing desire for him, could no longer be denied.
Then one day Malden brought me another letter, albeit with some reluctance. It was signed by the prince and sealed with the royal arms, so marked by true affection that I could scarcely take it in. The contents came as such a complete surprise that I burst into tears. Never had I felt so moved, so humbled.
‘Are you aware of its contents?’ I asked Malden.
‘I am. His Highness has offered you a bond for £20,000 as proof of his good will and protection for your future. A sum to be paid at the period of His Royal Highness’s coming of age.’
Tears were rolling down my cheeks. Even so I was shocked by the indelicacy of entering into any pecuniary engagements with a prince. I had, after all, expected nothing more than to possess his heart. Yet without doubt the sum was both generous and much needed. ‘Can this be true?’
‘The prince appreciates the sacrifices you would make by quitting the stage, and wishes you to be assured of his long-term protection.’
How could I refuse such generosity? ‘Then I will agree to a meeting, and if as a consequence I decide to accept the prince’s offer, I shall brave the censure of the world and rely for protection and friendship on the one man for whom I will sacrifice everything.’
A meeting was arranged to take place at Lord Malden’s residence in Mayfair. But yet again the restrictions imposed upon the prince prevented him from keeping our appointment. My disappointment this time was hard to bear.
‘You must understand, Mary, that despite being almost eighteen the prince’s life remains strictly controlled. His studies begin two hours before breakfast, and continue throughout the day. He is tutored in politics, history, the arts and commerce, agriculture and finance, more topics than you can imagine. There is nothing that he must not fully understand. He is an intelligent and bright young man with an important destiny.’
‘I do appreciate that, Malden, yet constant disappointment seems to be the mark of our relationship.’
‘He has again suggested you come to Buckingham Palace.’
‘Absolutely not, such a visit would place us both in peril of discovery.’
‘Then may I suggest you meet on the banks of the Thames at Kew, opposite the old palace which is the summer residence of the elder princes. I would accompany you, Mary, and we could go at dusk in suitably dark attire. The prince would slip out to meet you, with his brother Frederick to keep watch.’
This was the plan upon which we agreed.
On the night in question, Malden and I travelled to Kew and crossed to the wooded island known as Eel Pie Island. It was so named because the Three Swans Inn, where we dined, was famous for that dish. Fortunately there was the usual degree of music and revelry so we were not remarked upon, although I grew increasingly anxious and nervous as we waited for the signal.
Excitement was bubbling in me as I contemplated my first meeting with the prince. I admired him greatly, and felt grateful for his affection. He was the most engaging of created beings. We had corresponded for many months, and his eloquent letters, the exquisite sensibility which breathed through every line, his ardent professions of adoration, had combined to shake my feeble resolution.
In the dusk of evening we could barely make out the glimmer of a handkerchief being waved on the opposite shore, but Malden took my hand with an encouraging smile, and helped me to step into the boat. The slap of the waves, the rustle of the willow trees that hung over the water, all served to add to the magic of the moment.
Moments later we landed before the iron gates of old Kew Palace, and I saw the prince himself striding down the avenue, his brother beside him. My heart was racing as he hastened towards us, Prince Frederick and Malden tactfully staying some distance away as His Highness rushed forward to grasp my hands in his.
‘At last! I cannot believe the difficulties we have endured in arranging this so longed-for meeting. Even so, it must be brief.’
I was quite lost for words, overwhelmed by the reality of being so close to a royal prince. Even the scent of sandalwood on his person was utterly intoxicating. His arms slipped about me, and I swear I could feel the beat of his heart as he pressed me to him.
‘You cannot imagine how I have dreamed of this moment. I thought we might never meet …’ He started as we heard the sound of people approaching from the palace, and the moon chose that very moment to slip out from behind a dark cloud and illuminate the scene. Fearful of being discovered, we instantly sprang apart as Prince Frederick called across to us.
‘Another time, my love,’ he softly murmured, pressing his lips to my brow before striding away with his brother. I stood bereft, shaking with emotion, only vaguely aware of Malden taking my arm to lead me back to the boat.
Sensing my disappointment he attempted to console me. ‘Do not fret, Mary, we can arrange another meeting.’
I could not think beyond what had just occurred, what I had experienced when Florizel had at last taken me in his arms.
I returned home in some trepidation, fearing Tommy might have discovered the truth of my absence, only to find my wastrel husband laid out cold on the floor of the drawing room in a drunken stupor. With a sigh I called a manservant to remove him, then locked myself in my chamber where I snuggled between the sheets and indulged myself with recalling the events of the evening, and the protestations of love that had so moved me.
My heart had been captured. The prince’s royal status no longer filled me with a terrified awe. I saw him now as a lover and a friend. No matter what happened in the future, the grace of his person, the irresistible sweetness of his smile, the tenderness of his melodious yet manly voice would live forever in my heart.
Our meetings took place regularly after that, and always in the same place and at the same time, fortunately without interruption on future occasions. We would walk along the shore arm in arm, locked in our own private world by the enfolding darkness, the gentle slap of the water the only sound as we talked of whatever came into our heads. I always wore a darkly coloured cloak, Malden a black greatcoat, and the prince often disguised himself as a watchman. I would delight to see how eagerly he would climb over the gate to come to me. Only Prince Frederick chose to wear his favourite buff coat, a most conspicuous colour which alarmed us, although we said not a word on the subject.
‘You are my very own Perdita, and I your Florizel,’ the prince would say, pressing me to his heart. ‘How I adore you and long to make you mine. If only we could be together always.’
‘I too lament the distance which destiny has placed between us,’ I confessed, knowing how my soul would have idolised such a husband! ‘But you are a royal prince, and young still. Who knows what the future might bring. I cannot risk leaving the stage to rely entirely upon your protection.’
‘Is my offer not generous enough for you?’ he asked, his seductive gaze sparking fresh desire in me.
‘It is not simply a matter of money, although I admit I need an income to live by which the theatre so ably provides because of the success I have achieved. Were I to quit, to break my marriage vows, then I would feel obliged to leave my husband, thereby losing my respectability.’
‘I would see
that you were well taken care of, my love, with your own establishment.’
I shuddered at this. ‘You wish me to become a courtesan? I have no desire to prove the critics right in their assessment of women in the acting fraternity.’
‘No one would dare to criticise the lover of a royal prince.’ He looked so certain of his own ability to control the gossip mongers, I could almost believe it to be true. ‘In any case, my brother Frederick is to go to Hanover in a few months’ time, and when I turn eighteen in August I will be granted an establishment of my own.’
‘Then an attachment to a married woman might injure Your Royal Highness in the opinion of the world. I beg you to consider most carefully. I could not bear to bring calumny upon you or the royal family. And the scandal could destroy the very love that is growing between us.’
‘It would never do that!’ Gathering me close in his arms, his kisses and caresses grew ever more passionate and daring. ‘I only know that I must have you, dearest Perdita. The very touch of your lips sends me wild with desire.’
I felt very much the same, a passion awakened in me that I had not experienced before. Certainly my husband had never aroused such intensity of feeling in me. Yet I was fearful of allowing things to go too far, too quickly, so I would gently disengage myself and delicately change the subject, obliging him to again take my arm as we strolled beneath the hanging branches of the willows.
We would speak of world affairs, of manners and fashion, of people we knew, and the prince would tell me of his life growing up in the royal house, and of the strict regime to which he was subject. Nothing could be more delightful than these midnight promenades. Sometimes he would delight me with a song, the sound of his voice breaking the silence of the night, weakening my resistance still further.
‘I am so torn,’ I told my old friend, the Duchess of Devonshire. I had not yet plucked up the courage to discuss this subject further with my mother, but felt in dire need of female advice. ‘The prince’s attachment to me seems to increase with each meeting. I consider myself the most fortunate of creatures, but we cannot continue in this fashion. Should I relinquish my profession? And what of my husband?’
‘Are either as important to you as the love of a prince?’ she wryly asked. ‘George is a dear soul, and a great favourite of mine. Does your husband treat you half so well?’
I shook my head. ‘Not in the slightest. He wastes my money, beds our own maids and is no doubt even now in some bawdy house with one of his whores.’
‘Discretion, dear Mary, is everything, I agree. My own husband can in no way claim to be faithful since I discovered he was engaged in a liaison with Lady Jersey. She was not the first, nor I doubt will she be the last, but he does try to be discreet. I shall consider it my right also to take a lover, should the mood take me, once I have fulfilled my duty on the question of an heir, that is.’ Her expression for a moment was pained, and I squeezed her hand in sympathy.
‘You will fall pregnant again soon, I am sure of it.’
She smiled over-brightly. ‘Successful you most certainly are, Mary. You have gained much acclaim for which, as your friend, I am proud and pleased for you. Yet in all honesty I have to say that however you might wish otherwise, acting will never bring you respectability.’
It seemed that I had less to lose than I had first thought. And my love for the prince could no longer be denied.
Malden escorted me to a house on the corner of Kew Road, where I slipped quietly in through a private entrance at the back, out of sight of any passers-by, artfully disguised in my domino and mask. The prince was waiting for me with eager impatience, two glasses of ruby red wine already poured, glowing in the soft light of a silver candelabra that graced the supper table.
I never touch wine, and what we ate I cannot recall, as food was the last thing on my mind, and on the prince’s too. He soon disposed of all pretence of eating and pulled me into his arms to devour me with kisses. Never had I felt such passion, such burning desire.
‘You are utterly enchanting, I cannot wait to possess you, dearest Perdita.’
There was a slight moment of embarrassment as he struggled unsuccessfully with my laces and ribbons, but then we both fell on to the bed in hoots of laughter.
‘Perhaps we should call your maid,’ he teased, kissing my nose and mouth, smoothly moving down to suckle my breast. From that moment I was lost in paradise. I felt treasured, warm and safe in his arms. My gown slid easily from my shoulders, and if I helped him it was out of an eagerness of my own.
He took off my silk stockings with a tenderness that was deliciously erotic, slipping one garter on to his wrist as a keepsake. He unlaced my petticoat and stays with trembling hands, freed my breasts from the restrictions of my tight bodice with a wondrous awe. And I as eagerly helped him to remove his brocade coat, silk shirt and breeches, smoothing my exploring hands over his powerful chest and shoulders.
The prince proved to be an exciting and vigorous lover, and surprisingly skilled for one so young. So it was that in the solitude of a stranger’s house, I finally gave myself to him, and tasted sensual love for the first time.
The house became our secret trysting place. We would meet as frequently as the prince, or Florizel as he liked me to call him, could escape his duties. After we had made love we would enjoy music, wine and song, dancing or card parties with specially invited friends. Here, in our own private sanctum, we felt safe to savour the delights each could give to the other, and enjoy a riotous social life. And always I wore the prince’s miniature hung upon a ribbon around my neck.
Sheridan made one last effort to persuade me to stay on at Drury Lane with offers of a further rise in salary, but accepted my determination to retire with an air of sad resignation. ‘I rather expected this, Mary, and can only hope you are making the right decision.’
‘I sincerely believe that to be the case, but I hope we may remain friends?’ I said, emotion choking my throat.
‘Always! I too am growing somewhat tired of the theatre, and giving more attention to my political interests. Life changes and we must move with it.’
In those last two months of my career I believe I worked harder than ever, on one occasion in May playing eight roles in eleven nights. Perhaps in deciding to leave the stage, I threw off my inhibitions at last and produced my best performances. In the role of Widow Brady in The Irish Widow, one of my favourite parts, the London Courant wrote that I executed the role ‘with truth and propriety’. It was not an easy one to play since I had to change from an Irish accent to a deep male voice when she disguises herself as her brother. Even the Morning Post, my sternest critic, wrote ‘Mrs Robinson stands eminently distinguished from the other performers’.
I couldn’t help but wonder how much more I might have achieved, had I chosen to remain in the theatre. I felt as if I had barely finished my apprenticeship and had so much more to give.
I played Perdita one more time, and other favourite roles including Juliet, Imogen, Viola, and Rosalind. Then in my last appearance I played Sir Harry Revel, in the comedy of The Miniature Picture by Lady Craven, and Widow Brady again.
My throat closed in a grip of misery as I felt quite unable to continue, very close to fainting. Fortunately, the person on the stage with me was the one to begin the scene, which allowed time for me to collect myself. How I stumbled through the play I shall never know, my performance felt mechanical and dull, yet the applause from the audience at the end was warm and gratifying, a most moving accolade to the end of my career.
Doing my utmost to smile I sang the final song. ‘Oh, joy to you all in full measure. So wishes and prays Widow Brady!’
‘And that,’ I informed my colleagues as we entered the Green Room together, ‘was not only the last song in The Irish Widow, but of my appearances at the Drury Lane. I shall appear no more after this night.’
Mr Moody, who had played in the farce with me, looked utterly stricken. ‘You will be sorely missed, Mrs Robinson.’
The
effort to conceal the emotion I felt on quitting a profession I loved so much was suddenly too much, and I burst into tears.
Never had I imagined the day would come when I would no longer tread the boards, the place where I had so often received the most heart-warming testimonies of public approbation. I had worked so hard and achieved such high acclaim. Now I was flying into an uncertain and unknown future, one which might bring only disappointment. I was overwhelmed by emotion, barely able to speak as I bid farewell to my fellow actors and accepted their warm felicitations and good wishes with a regret almost too hard to bear.
When I suggested to my husband that it was time we parted, it was with less regret, although Tommy didn’t seem in the least surprised, so must have been aware of the rumours after all. ‘I’m willing to continue to give you my protection, Mary, should you need it,’ he generously offered.
‘I couldn’t ask that of you, Tommy. It would only make you into a laughing stock. Better we go our separate ways in a civilised fashion.’
‘We gave it our best shot, eh?’ he sportingly remarked, as if we’d been engaged in a form of clay pigeon shooting.
‘I’m sure you’ll manage to find comfort elsewhere,’ I wryly observed.
‘As will you. And mayhap the prince will see fit to reward my generosity in lending him my wife.’
I was irritated by this assumption on his part, guessing it was the true motivation behind his generous offer not to leave. ‘Is that all that matters to you, whether the liaison might prove beneficial to yourself?’
‘Of course not, but I hope we will ever remain friends. I truly wish you to be happy,’ he graciously added, tenderly kissing me on each cheek.
‘I see no reason why I should not be.’
A day or two later, on Sunday afternoon at the beginning of June, I called upon my dear friend the duchess, feeling in need of her reassurance that I had done the right thing. I was shown into her parlour to find she already had a visitor, but she nevertheless made me most welcome, striding towards me with hands outstretched to kiss me on each cheek.
Lady of Passion Page 14
