‘What have we done to offend?’ Tommy demanded to know, though whether he was truly ignorant of the situation that had led to this request, I dared not ask.
‘It matters not. We must leave forthwith.’ And with the utmost chagrin, we were obliged to quit the theatre.
‘What am I to do?’ I asked my mother. ‘My female vanity might be flattered to know that the most admired and accomplished prince in Europe is claiming to be devotedly attached to me, yet I dare not risk accepting his offer to meet him.’
‘He has asked to see you?’ Mama asked, looking stunned, as well she might.
‘Many times in the almost daily letters conveyed to me by Lord Malden. His Highness is most persistent, constantly declaiming his passion for me. He says that I have captured his heart and professes to be in love.’
‘Oh, my goodness! But then he is a royal prince, accustomed to being granted all he desires, and already with a reputation where the ladies are concerned. He will say whatever he must to win you.’
These were the words one would expect a fond mother to make, yet I could not deny the power of his attraction. It was all so exciting, so thrilling and dangerously tempting. I had little experience of romance, having been obliged to endure a neglectful, unfaithful husband and many rapacious demands upon my person which were more lust than love. Nor did I have any knowledge of these other women the prince had apparently pursued. I knew only the feelings he expressed so lovingly towards me in his beautiful letters. I thought him the most amiable of men, but one admittedly subject to temptation.
‘I have entreated him to recollect that he is but seventeen, and perhaps led on by the impetuosity of youthful passion.’
‘You would be the one to suffer, dearest, if he should change in his sentiments towards you.’
‘I am aware of that, Mama, and have begged him to be patient, to wait until he becomes his own master and knows more his own mind before he engages in a public attachment to me. Above all, to do nothing that might incur the displeasure of His Royal Highness’s family.’
‘Wise words, as many in the royal household would seek to undermine you in his affections. You would risk the public abuse which calumny and envy would undoubtedly heap upon you.’
‘I most firmly believe that His Royal Highness means what he professes – indeed, his heart is too vulnerable to deceive or harbour even for a moment the idea of deliberate deception. There is a beautiful ingenuousness in his language, a warm and enthusiastic adoration expressed in every letter, which charms me. I find the poetic quality of his words particularly appealing.’
‘Think on your reputation, Mary, and the dangers, were you to yield.’
She was speaking of a possible unwanted pregnancy, yet it was not unknown for a married woman to take a lover and for any resulting progeny to be accepted by her husband. Would Mr Robinson be so obliging? He was certainly in no position to criticise infidelity on my part, when he paid no heed to our wedding vows. Besides, there were ways and means of preventing such unwelcome events. I had heard tell of a shop in Covent Garden which sold cundums, made of sheep gut tied with ribbons which helped prevent such accidents. But I made no mention of this to my mother.
‘I promise that I will do nothing in haste, Mama. As well as the loss of my reputation, I fear losing my independence, and the success I have achieved in my profession.’
‘Then for once I must applaud the fact that you tread the boards.’
I knew in my heart that were I to quit my profession, and leave my husband, I should be thrown entirely on the prince’s mercy. But for all my innate caution, my desire to be principled and sensible, the prospect of being the mistress of a royal prince was not without its attractions. I rather fancied being seen as a leader of the social scene, dressing in the latest fashions, bejewelled and riding in a fine carriage. I ached to be the best, to be noticed and loved. A foolish vanity, a flaw in my nature, perhaps because of my own father and even my husband, who had both betrayed and neglected me.
The prince’s pursuit of me gathered momentum, his letters sometimes arriving twice daily, duly delivered by Lord Malden. On one occasion he wrote me a letter which I swear was written in his own blood, as he claimed that his heart bled for me. He sent a lock of his hair to my dressing room in an envelope marked ‘To be redeemed’.
I was then stunned to receive, via Lord Malden, the prince’s portrait in miniature, painted by the artist Jeremiah Meyer, beautifully set in diamonds. Within the case was a small heart cut in paper. On one side was written: ‘Je ne change qu’en mourant’. On the other: ‘Unalterable to my Perdita through life’. I swore never to part with this picture till the day I died.
Throughout the early months of 1780 the prince’s correspondence continued, every day bringing new assurances of his affection and regard. Yet we never spoke a word to each other. I still declined to meet His Royal Highness for the reasons Mama and I had discussed. Then Lord Malden came to me one day and stunned me with his own declaration.
‘I confess I regret ever having become embroiled in this business, for I now realise that I too have conceived a violent passion for you.’
I was momentarily at a loss for words. His lordship was a most pleasant young man and I liked him well enough. As Member of Parliament for Westminster he was also a person of some influence, and no doubt with excellent prospects. But I remained married to Thomas Robinson, and divorce was not only difficult but well-nigh impossible, even if I had loved him, which I did not. ‘My lord – George – please do not add to the pressure already upon me.’
He didn’t seem to hear my heartfelt plea.
‘I offered to withdraw my services but the Duke of Cumberland paid me a visit early one morning at my house in Clarges Street, informing me that the prince is most wretched on your account. He implored me to continue to plead on his behalf, at least for a while longer. Yet I need you to be aware, Mary, that I would relinquish such duties for the prince in a moment, were you to give me the slightest indication that my own regard for you might be returned.’
Much as I might feel pity for Malden I knew I must dash his hopes, albeit as sweetly and tactfully as I could. ‘You are a very dear friend, George, and always will be, but have I not gossip enough to contend with? Let us not encourage more.’
‘Is there then no hope for me?’
I gently squeezed his hand. ‘I am in sore need of loyal friends, and treasure you as such. Let us say no more on the subject.’ After some persuasion he agreed, but despite every effort to prevent it, gossip about us was rife. It was generally mooted that I was not only mistress to a royal prince, but also to his ‘royal pander’. I thought this an unpleasant description of my new friend, and most damaging to my own reputation. It was also wrong on both counts. But as vehemently as I might refute these rumours, I could do nothing to silence them.
‘How long can we continue in this fashion?’ I asked my husband, in some despair.
‘By ignoring the gossip and going about our business as we choose.’
Wise advice, but then Tommy had the facility to be completely self-obsessed. I wished that I could emulate him as I worried far too much about how people might judge me.
So it was that we sparked yet more tittle-tattle in April 1780 when the three of us attended a masquerade together, poor Tommy being seen as my pimp. Attendance was so high that a one-way system for carriages had to be instigated, with horse’s heads facing towards Hyde Park. The streets were jammed and we did not reach the doors until long after they had opened at half-past ten, and supper did not begin until one in the morning.
The Morning Post published a most disgruntled piece complaining about the usual collection of nuns, flower girls, milkmaids, shepherds and shepherdesses, friars, Turks and Persians. But they made a point of mentioning the three of us, describing Tommy as the ‘pliant’ husband, and Malden as the ‘sulking hero’. They commented that I wore a pink jacket and coat-dress, with a loose gauze thrown over it, and that I appeared melancholy �
�from the provoking inattention of the company’. If this were true, then why did I stay until well after dawn?
I did express my disappointment to Malden that the prince was not present.
‘Prince George was certainly desirous of being here, but the king has forbidden him from attending masquerades as His Majesty considers them to be full of vice.’
I had to laugh at this. ‘It is but fun, although I agree that the essence of a disguise does allow the freedom to act out a part one might not otherwise play.’
‘Which the king deems to be quite inappropriate for a royal prince.’
‘Because hiding behind a disguise is dangerous, rather as we actresses are viewed when playing a role?’
He grinned. ‘Quite so.’
‘Personally I have no objection to being recognised, but then I spend too much of my life in costume, pretending to be someone I am not. Besides, all is revealed at the designated hour when masks are removed, so where is the danger?’
Two weeks later the three of us attended a masked ridotto together at the Opera House, a venue I loved as the stage would be extended over the orchestra pit for dancing. It was perhaps foolishly reckless of me as I had a rehearsal to attend first thing the next morning, playing Imogen in Cymbeline. But I simply couldn’t resist as the prince had promised to be there. Sadly, to my great disappointment, he did not appear, no doubt again barred from attending by the king.
He did, however, send me a pair of diamond earrings with a note from Florizel, by way of compensation for his absence. What a darling man! I had refused many gifts which His Royal Highness had wished to buy for me from Grey’s, accepting only a few trifling ornaments whose value in total did not exceed one hundred guineas. I also made it clear that my acceptance of this latest gift did not in any way prove that I was for sale.
I enjoyed the evening, despite my disappointment, as a ridotto involves far more entertainment than a masquerade, and the three of us stayed until five in the morning. For this occasion I wore a domino and was transparently veiled, which showed off the diamond earrings to perfection. Malden was most admiring of my appearance.
‘You look more beautiful than ever this evening, Mary, in your diamonds and rubies.’
For once the Morning Post too complimented me, saying that I shone with ‘unusual lustre’, speculating that Lord Malden himself must have given the gems to me.
Tommy and I spotted the piece as we sat browsing the news sheets in a coffee house together, since we could not afford to buy them all at threepence a time. We were partly amused and partly infuriated by these latest scandalous comments.
‘They do not seem to appreciate that as an independent woman I can perfectly well afford to buy my own jewels,’ I quite reasonably pointed out. ‘I have never been in the business of accepting gifts from admirers, or selling my favours, for all I have frequently been propositioned. Once from an abbess, no less, who attempted to procure me for a lord with an offer of one hundred guineas.’
Tommy laughed out loud. ‘That is quite a sum, you should have accepted.’
‘I do not take my marriage vows as lightly as you, husband dear.’
He quickly changed the subject back to the gossip mongers. ‘This piece in the Town and Country Magazine features a tête-à-tête subtitled “Memoirs of the Doating Lover and the Dramatic Enchantress”. It gives an embarrassing history of poor Malden’s recent amours.’ Tommy handed it to me to read.
‘How very sad. But if I am this so-called enchantress, they say that I am “not so easy a conquest as many imagined” which for once they have absolutely correct. The paper’s views on my personal charms and talents are quite flattering, but who can be feeding them these details? Who is privy to the engagements in our diary?’
‘Our servants?’ Tommy suggested, as he flicked through another news sheet.
‘No, I will not believe it. My servants are ever loyal as they know that I treat them well. The papers must have spies, determined to fabricate any facts they cannot ascertain for themselves.’
‘I’m sure you are right.’ Tommy chuckled. ‘But it says here that Malden not only purchased the diamonds, but provided you with a crimson and silver carriage, which is “the admiration of all the charioteering circles of St James’s”. If that is so, where have you hidden it, dearest wife?’
We both burst out laughing. ‘I have so many I forget. Such is the lot of fame!’
Tommy may have been sympathetic to the gossip in the press, but at that time he knew nothing of the letters from the prince, which were causing me so much heartache. Not that I felt any sense of guilt about this correspondence as my husband’s behaviour continued as shameless as ever. He showed no respect for my position or my sensitivities. Tommy generally passed his leisure hours squandering my money at the gaming table, drinking himself into oblivion, or cavorting with loose women of ill repute, not least carrying on his affair with the pair lodged in Maiden Lane.
Even my own servants complained of his illicit advances.
One night I returned home from a rehearsal to find the door of my chamber locked. ‘Tommy, are you in there?’ I called, rapping on the door with a sharp knuckle. ‘Let me in at once.’
It was no great surprise to find that my rapacious husband was not alone. But the woman in question was one of our kitchen maids, exceedingly plain even to ugliness, being short, squat and dirty. I dismissed her on the spot.
Such indifference to my feelings naturally destroyed any sense of duty or esteem on my part. And the increasing adoration of the prince, who must surely be the most enchanting of mortals, hourly occupied my mind on the possibility of a separation. In the scores of the most eloquent letters His Royal Highness sent, he constantly assured me of his lasting affection. By comparison with the contempt and embarrassment I experienced from my own husband, and the manner in which I laboured to earn our living while he frittered it away, I grew weary of the effort of trying to keep my marriage alive.
Yet without Tommy’s protection where would that leave me? Therefore I still hesitated, reluctant to bring upon myself the reproaches of the world.
‘His Highness has suggested that you adopt a disguise in order to meet him incognito.’
I frowned at Malden, perplexed. ‘But you said the prince did not attend masquerades or adopt disguises. What is he asking of me?’
Malden continued with evident pain. ‘He wishes you to don male attire, as you do in your cross-dressing roles, such as the character he saw you play in The Irish Widow. Then he would have you smuggled into the Queen’s House.’
I was utterly shocked. ‘I will do no such thing! What if I were to be seen?’
‘He thinks it unlikely, as you would meet in the privacy of his apartments there, and were anyone to see you the disguise would offer protection.’
‘Indeed it would not, since I am famous for such roles. You may tell His Royal Highness that the indelicacy of such a step, as well as the danger of detection, makes me shrink from his proposal. I have more respect for myself than to take the risk.’
My refusal apparently threw His Royal Highness into the most distressing agitation, as was expressed by the letter I received from him the very next day, which Malden reluctantly handed over.
‘I apologise in advance for this missive, but His Highness does tend to react with some degree of hysteria whenever he cannot have what he most desires. I lament the day I ever engaged myself in this activity. I declare I am the most miserable and unfortunate of mortals,’ he mourned.
Yet again I offered my heartfelt sympathy, for he was by now a dear friend. ‘He should not make such requests of me, it is true. But to put an end to my correspondence with the prince seems too painful a remedy. I confess to being utterly fascinated by him: by the beauty of his letters, by his accomplishments, and any doubts I feel are more than soothed by his profession of inviolable attachment.’
Malden looked deeply concerned. ‘Yet he is a royal prince with many demands upon him, so I cannot swear he woul
d remain faithful. And think of the risk to your own reputation, Mary.’
I smiled gently, knowing that the poor man was playing devil’s advocate, needing to obey the prince, who was his friend and master, and yet wishing to have me for himself. ‘I am all too aware that, in the eyes of the world, the reputation of a wife must remain unsullied even though a husband may indulge his fancies as he chooses. Fashionable circles do allow for a wife to err so long as she is discreet, and her husband continues to offer her the sanction of his protection. More than one woman I know suffering matrimonial turpitude has indulged in such practices.’
‘Perhaps they do not have as much to lose.’
‘That is true, but could I reconcile myself to remaining under the same roof of a husband I no longer honour, and whose good will I would, in fact, be forfeiting? It is all most confusing and almost impossible to follow both my heart and my duty.’
It was also true that the attentions of my so illustrious admirer might actually add éclat to my popularity, rather than demean it.
‘Tommy’s worldly prospects would not necessarily suffer, so long as he was willing to turn a blind eye,’ Malden pointed out, and I thought about this for some moments.
‘But for all my husband’s infidelities, I could not allow him to become the object of ridicule and contempt, to see him publicly cuckolded and scorned. Were I to abandon both career and husband, what protection would I have? Taking everything into account, you are right, I dare not take the risk.’
‘I am vastly relieved to hear it.’
More gifts arrived, all of which I returned, but the managers of Drury Lane were not oblivious to the rumours circulating about my alleged affair with both prince and ‘pander’. I had played Rosalind for the first time at the end of January, and repeated the role at my benefit on the 7 April. The first performance attracted some criticism, as I still possessed the fault of over-emphasis, but there was much improvement in the second. I had learned a great deal in the three years since I first trod the boards. Should I risk throwing all that away?
Lady of Passion Page 13