And there she proposed to live quietly for the rest of her life.
The choice
DOROTHY WAS TRYING to settle down in Cadogan Square and make something of her life. She had lost William; she would not wish to have him back now. He had disappointed her; he had not only deserted her but had made a fool of himself publicly. Why had he thrown away everything they had built up over the years for the pursuit of a young girl whom he could not have cared greatly about since as soon as she had refused him he was courting Miss Elphinstone?
Why did people whom one believed one knew thoroughly suddenly become as strangers? For the sake of what looked like a whim he had broken up and brought great unhappiness into the family.
She would do without him. With the help of her children she could reshape her life. She had engaged a governess for the children, a Miss Sketchley, who was a great comfort to her and favourite throughout the household. She heard regularly from George and Henry who were together now in the Army. Only Sophia was remiss, but then Sophia had always been unpredictable. She wondered what her daughter had thought when she had to watch her father dancing attendance on Miss Tylney-Long as she had had to do at Ramsgate.
What had possessed William to behave in such a way? Perhaps it was because he had suddenly realized that he was no longer young. He had, as some people did, tried in vain to rekindle his youth.
Oh, the folly of it!
But as the months passed, although she was not exactly happy, she was at peace. For one thing it was pleasant to be shut away from public life. Her name was appearing less and less in the scandal sheets. She was living within her own family; and she had the three eldest girls all married and settled, beside the little FitzClarences who had always been a joy to her.
She was very fond of her son-in-law Frederick March, and Colonel Hawker was very good to her and looked after her affairs. She could not endure Thomas Alsop, but she was not so foolish as to hope for perfection. Thomas could be endured when she had two such sons-in-law as Frederick and the Colonel.
When the children were in bed and her daughters with their husbands, for she had made it quite clear that she had no wish to intrude into their privacy, she and Miss Sketchley would sit together and she would gossip to the governess of her theatrical adventures and it was the pleasantest way of reliving them because she would laugh over her misfortunes and enjoy her triumphs afresh.
Yes, life had become bearable.
But it seemed that peace must always be denied her. For some time she had noticed that Miss Sketchley was uneasy. She realized how much the governess meant to her when she feared that perhaps she wanted to leave.
She broached the subject one evening as they sat together.
‘Miss Sketchley,’ she said, ‘have you something on your mind?’
The governess started guiltily.
‘I hope you are not planning to leave us.’
‘No,’ said Miss Sketchley. ‘Never.’
‘That is a weight off my mind,’ said Dorothy. ‘But something is worrying you.’
Miss Sketchley hesitated. ‘I… er…’
‘Come now, please tell me. I’d rather know the worst.’
‘I… I don’t think all is well between Mr and Mrs Alsop.’
Dorothy laughed. ‘My dear Miss Sketchley, all has never been well between Mr and Mrs Alsop. I can say this to the dear friend you have become. The marriage was a great mistake.’
‘I fear so,’ said Miss Sketchley.
‘Pray tell me what you have discovered.’
‘I think that Mrs Alsop is taking laudanum every night.’
‘Laudanum!’
‘I have seen quantities of it in her room. I know I should not have opened her drawer. But I was alarmed because I suspected… and I found a very large bottle of the stuff there.’
‘Oh, my God, what does this mean?’
‘I fear that she is taking drugs for some reason.’
‘For what reason? Is she unhappy? She is here… I care for her. What can be wrong?’
‘Perhaps she will confide in you.’
‘Oh, Miss Sketchley, that girl has been a great trial to me. I would do anything on Earth for her – but somehow I fear she will never bring happiness to me or to herself. I blame myself. When I think of her coming into the world… But you know the story. I loathed her father and when I knew I was to have his child… perhaps I loathed her too… before she was born. As soon as she arrived I loved her… but perhaps it was too late then.’
‘No mother could have done more for a child than you have done for Mrs Alsop.’
‘Oh, God, how I’ve tried! All my quarrels with the Duke began through Fanny. They did not like each other. There was always conflict when she was at Bushy. But I must find what is wrong. I will go to her now. Fanny has always terrified me.’
Fanny was in her room, sitting at her mirror, idly twirling a lock of her hair.
‘Fanny, my child, is anything wrong?’
Fanny swung round to face her mother. ‘What… do you mean?’
Dorothy leaned forward and opening a drawer took out a bottle of laudanum. Fanny had turned pale.
‘Fanny, what does this mean?’
‘I had to have it,’ cried Fanny hysterically. ‘I couldn’t sleep. I felt so miserable. I wanted to take an overdose.’
‘For God’s sake, don’t talk like that. Tell me what’s wrong. You know that I will put it right if it is humanly possible for me to do so.’
‘It’s Tom… he’s in debt. We can’t pay. He’s lost his job. They’ve turned him out. There is nothing we can do. And we owe £2,000.’
‘£2,000! How could you owe so much as that?’
‘You don’t know Tom. He’d double that in a week or two. He only wants time.’
‘Where is he going to find this £2,000?’
‘I don’t know. He’ll be in the debtors’ prison. He’s threatened with it… and that’ll be the end.’ Fanny picked up the bottle.
‘I will take this away.’
‘No,’ cried Fanny. ‘I’d die without it!’
‘How long have you been taking this?’
‘For months. I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d kill myself. I had to… I had to…’
‘Now listen,’ said Dorothy, ‘we’re going to be sensible. As soon as Thomas comes in bring him to me. We have to find that £2,000 and he will have to live within his income.’
Fanny burst into wild hysterical laughter. ‘But Mamma, he has no income to live within.’
This nightmare, thought Dorothy, this nightmare of money!
She thought she had escaped it, but as she had feared the Duke was finding it difficult to pay the income he had promised. Perhaps she had always guessed he would.
And she desperately needed £2,000.
If she did not find it quickly Thomas Alsop would be in a debtors’ prison, and she knew what that meant. Disaster and degradation, and once people were incarcerated in such a place how could they ever earn the money which would buy their release?
And if she did not act, what would happen to Fanny? Hysterical and unbalanced, already familiar with drugs, drinking too freely whenever the opportunity arose!
She must find £2,000 and how could she? There was one way. She could return to the stage. But if she returned to the stage she could not keep the children, for William would not permit the mother of his acknowledged children to act on a stage when she was not living with him. She had always known that he would have preferred her to retire at the beginning of their liaison; but he had wanted the money. Now that the money she earned would be of no concern to him he was determined that she should not earn it and keep their children.