A young woman whom Dorothy had known in Dublin came to play at Drury Lane. This was Maria Theresa Romanzini. She was an Italian Jewess, small, inclined to plumpness with magnificent black eyes and hair which offset her heavy features. She had a beautiful voice and this it was which had secured her engagement.

She was delighted to see Dorothy and together they recalled some of the old Dublin days.

Maria shivered. ‘I was terrified of Richard Daly,’ she said.

‘You too?’ said Dorothy.

‘Were not all of us? I tremble to think of what would have happened to me if my mother had not been with me. He was always trying to seduce me and I told my mother. She knew we should very likely be turned out of the theatre but she said that she would rather that than that I should fall into his hands.’

Dorothy nodded. Mrs Romanzini had been more watchful of her daughter than Grace had been of hers. That was not fair. Maria had been younger – only a child; and she Dorothy had been seventeen, old enough, one would think, for an actress to take care of herself.

‘Mamma shrieked at him once in Mrs Daly’s hearing,’ said Maria with a little laugh. ‘I shall never forget it. Mamma was so angry. “You have a fine wife of your own,” she said. “Leave my daughter alone.” And he did., He dared do no other. And we were not turned out of the theatre and it made no difference to my career. But I am glad to be free of him.’

Dorothy took Maria under her care and praised her to King and Sheridan; but Maria was ambitious enough to look after herself and because of her very fine voice quickly became quite a favourite with the audience. Her personality did not match that of Dorothy, Sarah Siddons and Elizabeth Farren, who were clearly destined to remain the three queens of the stage, but young Maria was an asset to the theatre.

When George arrived he and Maria took an immediate liking to each other which meant that Maria was frequently invited to Henrietta Street as well as to the Ford household in Gower Street.

Dorothy was winning praise in many roles. People flocked to see her Sir Harry Wildair in The Constant Couple – one of those ever popular breeches parts.

In the summer when Drury Lane closed and the more famous actors and actresses went on tour she hoped to play in Edinburgh again but learned that Mrs Siddons had accepted an offer to play there which would mean that the Queen of Tragedy would be in direct rivalry; and it was hardly likely that good business would result from it. The dour people of Edinburgh did not care for the laughter-makers; tragedy was more to their taste; and in their view pert little tomboys – whose private life Mrs Siddons and her adherents would not hesitate to inform them was not all to be desired, unlike that of the great tragedienne herself which was without reproach – could not be accorded respect in a town like Edinburgh.

‘They wouldn’t be able to stand out long against you,’ said Grace. ‘You’d soon have them laughing their heads off.’

‘Not in Edinburgh,’ replied Dorothy glumly.

She had an increasingly large family to support. There was now little Dodee, and George was getting only the smallest walk-on parts; Hester was home most of the time taking care of the children and Richard’s income was not large. She could not view a long rest from the theatre with any complacence – much as she would have liked to have more time for her family.

An unusual piece of good luck occurred then. The King, whose illness had given rise to so much gossip, recovered and the Queen decided that it would be an excellent idea for him to recuperate somewhere right away from London and his royal duties. Brighton would have been ideal, but the Prince of Wales had made that delightful town his own, and relations between the royal parents and their son were strained, so definitely it could not be Brighton.

Cheltenham was little known but it was recommended to the Queen as a very healthful spa where the waters were most beneficial, so she decided that she, the King, the Princesses and their suites should spend a few weeks there while they nursed the King back to health.

Cheltenham for the first time in its life was on the map. There happened to be a theatre in the town, and since there was to be a royal visit that meant that the place would be full not only of the royal entourage but of many visitors.

A full town needed good players in its theatre.

Mrs Siddons was going to Edinburgh; clearly Mrs Jordan must come to Cheltenham.

Cheltenham was pleasant although Dorothy always preferred London audiences to those of the provinces. At this time, though, the town had three times its usual population and it was said that if royalty made a habit of visiting it, it would soon resemble Brighton. She heard that sixty-seven hairdressers had followed the King and Queen to the town because where the Court was there was the ton; and constant hairdressing was essential to the fashionable world.

The theatre was a converted barn but a royal box had been erected, all sorts of comforts added and the inhabitants were all prepared to enjoy the amenities induced by elegant society.

They even had Mrs Jordan.

She was greeted wherever she went with great enthusiasm. People stopped her in the streets and told her how much they were looking forward to seeing her act and how amused they were that they had filched her from London.

The manager told her that he thought it wise for her not to play breeches parts before their Majesties.

‘This is not for His Highness the Prince of Wales, Mrs Jordan,’ he said. ‘His Majesty believes in stern propriety so these are the plays in which I think it would be wise for you to appear.’

Dorothy looked at them: The Country Girl, The Maid of the Oaks, The Sultan, The Poor Soldier and The Virgin Unmasked.

She would have enjoyed playing Sir Harry Wildair.

‘You should have had Mrs Siddons,’ she told him.

‘Oh, no. Her Majesty the Queen thinks that a little light entertainment would be better for His Majesty. If you can amuse him, Mrs Jordan, you will please Her Majesty.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ said Dorothy. ‘But I’m sure a breeches part would have been more likely to.’

But the manager did not agree.

It was not until Dorothy arrived in Cheltenham that the King and Queen honoured the playhouse with their presence and from their royal box they looked down with approval at the actors, and Dorothy had the satisfaction of hearing the King laugh at her antics.

This pleased the Queen and when Dorothy made her final bow they expressed their pleasure by inclining their heads for her alone.

It was not the gracious acknowledgement she had had from the Prince of Wales, but this was the King and his bulbous eyes which still looked a little wild were kindly, and so was his smile.

‘Very good,’ Dorothy heard him say. ‘A pleasant little actress, eh, what?’

And the Queen replied that Mrs Jordan’s performance had given her great pleasure.

That was triumph and Dorothy was delighted to have contributed to the King’s pleasure.

The people of Cheltenham were pleased too. The famous London actress had brought a change to their town. They were grateful to her and almost as pleased that she was with them as they were to have royal visitors.

All the same she was glad when the time came to return to London.

She came back to change.

Dr Ford – who should have been her father-in-law – had made his decision to retire and leave London. He had bought a house in Wales and since he would be far from the metropolis he had no further interest in the theatre. He was therefore going to sell his share in Drury Lane.

For some time there had been a certain amount of friction between Sheridan and Tom King; they could not agree on policy and their tastes differed widely. Sheridan had done his best to curtail King’s power and at the same time had himself shown a greater interest in affairs outside the theatre. This was understandable in view of the King’s illness and what had seemed a few months earlier a certain Regency. But King resented Sheridan’s attitude. If he wanted to be a politician and a man about town he insisted he should give up his theatrical commitments.

When he knew that Dr Ford wanted to sell out, King had hoped to buy his shares and thus gain a stronger influence at the theatre; unfortunately in attempting to raise money for this he gambled and lost heavily so that he was worse off than he had been in the first place. He went to see Dr Ford and told him that although he could not produce cash he had some securities and if Dr Ford would accept these he was eager to buy.

King’s hope was that the ever impecunious Sheridan would certainly not be able to raise the necessary capital, but he had reckoned without Sheridan’s friends. The Duke of Norfolk came to the rescue and lent Sheridan the necessary cash with the result that, with his father-in-law Thomas Linley, he became the proprietor of Drury Lane, and as Linley had nothing but a monetary interest this gave Sheridan complete control.

King declared his intention to leave and go to Dublin and work there. He had had enough of Sheridan and Drury Lane.

This was the state of affairs when Dorothy returned from Cheltenham.

It did not greatly perturb her that King was going. He had been fair to her but she knew that he, being an old man, did not care for her style of acting. He did not see comedy as the romp she made of it. He believed it should be more refined; and for that reason he had never held the high opinion of her that Sheridan had held, while at the same time, as manager, he must respect her ability to fill the theatre.