The Duchess of Drury Lane

by Freda Lightfoot

  I stared at her aghast. ‘How can you suggest such a thing?’

  ‘Because your dearest beloved is very much a man of ambition,’ my sister persisted. ‘He is where he is today thanks to Sheridan’s influence, which he has carefully nurtured. He no doubt hopes to call upon it further to secure himself a post in high office. Would such a man welcome a wife who is an actress, with at least one illegitimate child?’

  I could feel my cheeks growing warm with annoyance and embarrassment, yet could find no words to deny her statement. In truth I had never looked at it in quite that light until she pointed it out to me. And I did not like what I saw. I was happy for Richard’s success, naturally, and we appeared, outwardly at least, quite settled. We were a couple in every way but the one that counted most, certainly to me. But if he was having second thoughts about my suitability as a wife, then our relationship was indeed doomed, my hopes of respectability forever dashed.

  Richard took a little place at Richmond for us, as a weekend retreat. Was that not proof of his love? I asked myself. ‘You can go there to rest and recuperate on the days you have no performance,’ he suggested. ‘It will be a good place to recover from the long hours you spend in rehearsal and on stage. I shall come when the House is not sitting. It can be our secret hideaway.’

  ‘Oh, Richard, how good you are to me,’ and I kissed him with joy in my heart. Perhaps he was coming round to thinking of marriage, after all, I thought.

  As things turned out I was to spend more time there than he, but then the House was very often sitting, or he would have legal matters to attend to. I loved to take my children there for long periods, and indeed did a summer season at Richmond that year of 1790. Our new home was conveniently situated in Petersham, so I could easily stroll across the meadows to the theatre. On days when I wasn’t playing, while Hester minded the children for me, I would escape to walk in the nearby deer park, and breathe in the fresh country air. It felt such a relief after being shut up in gloomy rehearsal rooms for hours on end.

  Nor was I pregnant for once, so was feeling fit and well, bursting with energy and enjoying this time with my children.

  Deciding that the house in Gower Street had too many reminders of dear Mama, I took a new house in London, at my own expense. It was a delightfully fashionable property situated in Somerset Street between Portman Square and Oxford Street. The decision was mine alone, although Richard was happy to come too, of course. He was less happy, however, when I chose not to share his bed for a while.

  ‘I’m sorry, dearest, it is merely temporary, but I have no wish for another child just yet.’

  He glowered at me, his narrow face looking more pinched than ever. ‘If this is some feeble attempt at blackmail, I refuse to be bullied, Dora.’

  I looked at him in all innocence. ‘I really cannot think what you mean.’

  It was while I was out walking in the deer park one day that autumn, that quite by chance I came across a stranger seated upon a log. He was hunched over with one of those large floppy hats pulled down over his peruke. I couldn’t see his face but he was clearly a gentleman, judging by his fine suit. As the afternoon was falling to dusk, I hastily turned to leave, not wishing to disturb him, but then accidentally stepped upon a twig.

  He put a finger to his lips to shush me. ‘Don’t make a sound. Do you see that deer, she has a fawn with her. We must take care not to startle her.’

  He spoke in little more than a whisper, then patted the log beside him, indicating I should sit. I hesitated for a moment but then did so, gathering my skirts in my hands so they did not rustle the leaves. We sat together for some long moments like this, almost shoulder to shoulder in companionable silence, each of us utterly engrossed in watching the deer crop the grass, while she continued to keep a wary eye on her young.

  ‘I love animals,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t you?’

  I said nothing to this, not wishing to risk disturbing the deer. Besides, I’d never had the opportunity to find out whether I liked them or not in the theatrical world I occupied.

  He went on talking, very quietly. ‘I love to sit here in peace and solitude and watch the deer. So long as I remain quite still they do not object, may not even be aware of my presence.’

  Although he was still seated I could tell by the length of his legs and his powerful thighs that he was reasonably tall, with an impressive figure. I thought it unlikely the deer was entirely unaware of his presence, any more than I was, although for a different reason.

  After a while mother and baby moved away into the depth of the wood, and as it was growing quite dark by this time I leapt to my feet, anxious to return home while I could still mark the path. ‘I must go, but I too love the peace and solitude of this place. It really is beautiful.’

  The young man likewise got to his feet and turned to me with a smile. ‘As are you, Mrs Jordan.’

  My eyes widened in surprise. Even though I was now supposedly famous, I still fully expected to move about without being recognized. ‘You know who I am?’

  ‘I have had the pleasure of watching you perform. I saw you as Little Pickle in the spring, and most delightful you were too,’ he said. ‘I can’t remember ever having laughed so much.’

  I smiled. ‘Then you have the advantage of me, sir. Perhaps you would be so good as to introduce yourself.’

  He instantly swept off the hat and sketched a deep and noble bow. ‘William Henry is the name, captain in the Royal Navy, officially retired and ship paid off. Perhaps better known as the Duke of Clarence and Earl of Munster.’

  I was staring at him in open astonishment, may even have gasped, my mouth dropping open most unbecomingly, for without the hat I recognized him instantly as the fresh-faced young man I’d seen occasionally occupy the royal box. I hastily sank into a deep curtsey.

  Laughing, he took my hands to gently raise me up. ‘No need to stand on ceremony between friends, Mrs Jordan. And I believe you and I could become great friends.’

  Fourteen

  ‘. . . her smile was like sunshine’

  I met him again the following afternoon, and we talked for over an hour, seated side by side on the log. It felt rather like our own private universe, far removed from the world of the theatre, and perhaps from his own royal duties. Here in the soft green peaceful retreat of the deer park, we were simply a young man and a young woman talking quietly together, not royal prince and subject.

  ‘I first saw you in Richard Coeur de Lion, but I was utterly captivated by you as Little Pickle in The Spoiled Child, back in March,’ he said, making me blush. ‘It featured the kind of boyish pranks I love. Very much the sort of nonsense we get up to on board ship.’

  I laughed at that. ‘The Little Pickle character is very naughty to substitute his aunt’s parrot for a pheasant on a spit, not to mention removing a chair from beneath an elderly gentleman. I hope you would never stoop to such low practical jokes.’

  He beamed at me, eyes twinkling. ‘It has been known. But the greatest delight was in watching you, Mrs Jordan. Your perfect timing and expressive face made me roar with laughter. What was it the critic Leigh Hunt said? “Her smile was like sunshine, and her laugh did one good to hear it.” I most heartily agree. You certainly lifted my heart, and set it beating rather fast.’

  Yet another admirer, I thought, with some amusement. A prince, no less, who no doubt imagines he only has to crook his little finger and any woman will fall at his feet. He will soon learn I am not that sort of woman. I have never been promiscuous, having only ever been in love with one man. Certainly not with Daly, who took me by force. ‘I think you confuse me with the part I was playing.’

  ‘Not for a moment do I think of you as a young boy, Mrs Jordan,’ he quietly protested, his words heavy with meaning. ‘But it does not surprise me in the least that actresses all over the country are attempting to emulate you by taking on the part. I hoped to come again to Drury Lane, and perhaps get to know you a little, but I was recalled to my ship, HMS Valiant, at Por
tsmouth in early May. I confess I did not relish returning to duty, having grown accustomed to being in dock, as it were. I spent many boring months waiting for the fleet to refit. Fortunately, the threat of war receded and the Valiant was paid off. I am now to be created a rear admiral.’

  ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Hang me, it is but a sop, but no matter, I’m much more pleased to be back here in Richmond, with you,’ he said, with a certain twinkle in his eye that made me smile. ‘Joined the navy at thirteen, don’t you know, and at fourteen was taken to the watchhouse at Vauxhall.’

  ‘I had heard that you enjoy something of a reputation,’ I said with a laugh. ‘But goodness, fourteen is rather young to be locked up. What on earth had you done to deserve such punishment?’

  William chuckled as he told his tale. ‘Drat it, if I didn’t go to a masquerade and was flirting with quite a pretty girl, then a Spaniard butted in, damn his soul to perdition.’

  The Prince, I’d discovered, had a habit of peppering his sentences with oaths, and often took the Lord’s name in vain. I gave him the kind of silent reproving glance which warned him that such language was not appropriate before a lady. He was instantly contrite.

  ‘Pardon my French, ma’am. I was forgetting myself. Too used to the company of rough sailors, don’t you know.’

  I inclined my head by way of acceptance of his apology, which I thought quite charming, and found myself wondering what colour his hair was beneath the wig. Fair perhaps? His eyes were a delightful blue.

  ‘To continue with my tale, we exchanged a few strong words which naturally ended in a fight, a drunken brawl to be precise, and were marched off by the watchmen.’

  ‘Did that teach you a lesson?’

  He grinned. ‘Afraid it was but the start of a slippery slope during those rebellious boyhood years. Times best forgotten. It was all the King’s idea that I go into the navy. As heir, my brother George, who is the epitome of charm and wit, naturally had to be educated for kingship. Frederick joined the army. I was selected to go to sea. Not that I had any real objection. I looked forward to a more adventurous life rather than one confined with middle-aged tutors. We’d endured a somewhat stark and over-disciplined childhood under a parsimonious father, so I was well used to hardship and regular beatings. To be fair the King did personally arrange for me to enter the navy, insisting I be treated like any other boy, which I greatly appreciated. I started as a midshipman in the normal way.’

  ‘Goodness, I naturally assumed that royal princes led a charmed life of luxury,’ I said, rather startled by this account. I could picture him as a skinny, fair-haired boy, coping alone on a great big ship. It must have been far more unnerving than he was willing to admit.

  ‘Anything but. Our routine, set by our nurses and tutors, was a strict one. We were required to copy out endless pages of the Old Testament in our best copperplate handwriting. We also learned Latin, mathematics, French and German. All dreadfully boring, I can tell you, but then George is far brighter than me. I much preferred working on our model farm, where we were expected to grow our own vegetables. I had my toy soldiers and brass guns to play with, of course.’ He laughed. ‘And Papa did show affection in his bluff way. He would often get down on his knees and play with us when we were young, but not Mama. We were never allowed to sit when the Queen was present.’

  ‘My mother was also quite strict,’ I said, intrigued by this insight into royal life. ‘In the nicest possible way, you understand. She had very firm ideas on etiquette and manners, and educated us herself, since she couldn’t afford to send us to school, not the girls anyway. But my family was not quite as low-brow and poverty-stricken as the newspapers claim.’ Here I paused to adjust this remark. ‘At least not until after Papa left, and later died. My father was a gentleman, if weak and rather foolish.’

  I told him how my being taken on at Crow Street had saved the family from starvation. And he regaled me with more tales of his first year in the navy, his stamina having at least earned him his father’s approval.

  ‘Damned if he wasn’t far less approving when he discovered that I had picked up the sailor’s bad habits of swearing and drinking and so on. I will not offend your ears further, Mrs Jordan, with the reality of life at sea, except to say that seeking pleasure when on land is a necessary compensation for the hardship.’

  ‘I imagine it must be.’

  ‘The King then sent me to Germany at seventeen to learn better manners from my cousins. I was desperately bored and lonely there. It’s a damnable country where there was little to do but smoke and play twopenny whist.’

  He went on to speak of his time with Horatio Nelson in the West Indies, and I spoke of my move to Yorkshire, without dwelling too much upon the reason for it, and ultimate arrival at Drury Lane. He was so open and frank that there seemed little we couldn’t say to each other, quite the sweetest and most understanding man I had ever met. Interesting to talk to, and genuinely interested in me.

  But I sensed loneliness at the heart of him, and was beginning to see that we might have much in common. I had the urge to put my arms about him to give him a comforting hug, but it wouldn’t be in the least bit motherly, so I decided it was time to leave as my thoughts were turning in quite an unseemly direction.

  We met frequently after that, and he often regaled me with some of his seafaring yarns. ‘If you loved the navy so much, why did you leave?’

  ‘I’d served nearly fourteen years but in the end thought it all dashed pointless, with no hope of a proper profession for me, a king’s son.’

  ‘It must have felt strange at first, to be on dry land again,’ I sympathized, noting a sadness in his eyes.

  ‘Indeed it was. I’ve been rather at a loss since I left the sea. It’s hard to adjust to becoming a landlubber again, and even though I was glad to leave at the time I still miss the sway of the decks beneath my feet. I also felt rather distanced from the family following my long absence. No longer felt I belonged! And the King and Queen were somewhat cold and disappointed in me. Is it wrong to wish to be better appreciated by one’s family?’

  ‘I wonder if one ever is,’ I said with some feeling, thinking of Hester’s constant moans and criticisms.

  ‘The only person I can talk to is George. We were ever united from childhood, right through our boyhood years. I rather expected to come home and find him acting as regent, although I was heartily glad to see the King fully recovered. I was very sorry for His Majesty, very sorry indeed – no man loves the King better than I, of that you may be assured. I was horribly agitated when I first saw him, so shocked I could barely stand. I felt for the Queen too, I did faith. But the pair of them are so against George, and by association, against me too.’

  ‘Why, for goodness sake?’

  ‘The King sees us as rivals to his power, hovering in the background waiting for his death, or the return of his madness. There was great trouble while I was away. Pitt was for the King, supported by the Queen and the princesses, who of course can do nothing more than grumble over their embroidery. Fox hurried back from Italy when George tried to bring in the regency, but Pitt opposed him, naturally fearing a fall from power for the Tories. Pitt’s plan was to form a committee, rather than a single regency. As if at twenty-eight George wasn’t old enough to rule alone, were my father to be incapable. Then Fox blundered by saying it was George’s right, as heir to the throne.’

  ‘Why was that wrong?’

  ‘It gave Pitt the chance to prate on about it being a constitutional government and did he not really mean “claim”? George, of course, was already irritated with Fox for having denied before all the House his marriage to Mrs Fitzherbert.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I remember Mama saying something on the subject of the Royal Marriages Act, as Sheridan was often absent from the Lane at the time. But would not the King, and the Queen for that matter, object, if they thought it a true marriage?’

  ‘Maria is the love of his life, but yes, it is perhaps too soon for my
brother to do battle with the King over his marital status. In the end, however, the regency crisis was largely academic as before the conflict could be resolved the King thankfully recovered. Unfortunately, the dispute has left the Queen with a deeper grudge against George. In addition to her disapproval of his wild parties, his drinking and gambling, she claims he was seeking to gain power at her expense, and would have replaced Pitt with Fox.’

  ‘And would he?’

  ‘Possibly. I’m always filled with admiration at my brother’s clever machinations. But George blames Pitt entirely for setting the Queen against him, and it will happen again, of course. The King’s recovery is but temporary. There is no cure for whatever ails him.’

  ‘That is so sad,’ I said, strangely moved by his tale, as I could see how very much it troubled him, losing the affection of both his parents.

  He sighed, rubbed a finger over the bridge of his nose. ‘Ah, politics, what a bore! At least the King finally came round and granted me a title. After I’d objected to being ignored, of course,’ he chortled. ‘I had to threaten to stand as an MP for the constituency of Totnes in Devon. He was so appalled at the prospect of his son appealing to the voters that I won that battle, although he did have the final word. “I well know it is another vote added to the Opposition,” he said. And we both laughed at the joke.

  ‘His Majesty also gave me a house in Richmond, which I sadly was obliged to leave due to a fire. I now occupy Ivy Lodge, in the centre of town.’

  ‘Ah yes, not far from where the Sheridans live,’ I said with a smile, remembering my sister’s gossip. ‘Sheridan is acquainted with your brother the Prince, I believe, and often absent from home. How very convenient.’ I was amused to see a flush creep up his throat.

  ‘It is not for the reason you imagine, or that rumour claims,’ he said, most earnestly, and I almost laughed out loud.