The Duchess of Drury Lane by Freda Lightfoot

lowering his voice, softly added, ‘He suffered rather badly from bullying as a boy at Harrow, being the son of a travelling player, so now prefers not to be too closely associated with the theatre.’
    ‘Then why own one?’ I asked, astounded by this private glimpse into a very public figure.
    ‘Money, my dear, why else? He has turned his back on both acting and writing in order to concentrate on politics, but he still has to live, and has debts to settle, so if you can pull in an audience, you will be particularly welcome here.’
    I was still mulling over this information about my new employer, which seemed to add to the pressure already on me, as we returned to the office to consider how best to make my debut. Sheridan waved me to a seat with a flourish of one delicate hand.
    ‘Our aim,’ he began, ‘is to dedicate the Theatre Royal to the very best in drama, as well as high moral rectitude. It is a place for intellectual culture, entertainment and enjoyment, a theatre which needs to be regarded as a national treasure. We must never allow it to slide into vulgarity and immorality. Young actresses should take particular care that they do not overstep the bounds of propriety. It is commonly agreed that they create a certain excitement in the male breast, and provoke a sense of mystery since the real woman can easily be confused with the parts they play.’
    ‘I am aware of that,’ I said, beginning to wonder where all this was leading.
    ‘Sadly, it is an actress’s lot in life that she rarely finds married joy with a respectable man.’
    My heart skipped a beat at this bleak prospect for my future happiness. ‘I trust you exaggerate, sir. I have every hope to marry a good man one day,’ and I smiled. Sheridan’s expression remained inscrutable.
    ‘I believe, Mrs Jordan, that you have a child.’
    ‘I do.’ If he expected me to apologize for my darling Fanny, or explain her existence, then he had mistaken me badly.
    Tom King looked away, clearly embarrassed. After a slight pause in which I sat rigid, Sheridan blithely continued with his lecture. ‘You should ever remember that I have an instinctive abhorrence to the theatre being seen as a vehicle for vice. Nor have we any place here for smutty farce and coarse jokes.’
    The manager hastily intervened. ‘What Mr Sheridan means is that Drury Lane is the place where the fashionable like to come to see the great Mrs Siddons act. They are content to sit and enjoy the tragedy, but whether we could persuade them to remain in their seats long enough to view the farce after it, has yet to be proved.’
    This all sounded deeply disturbing. ‘Are you saying there is no room for comedy at the Lane which may be considered in the slightest risqué?’
    ‘No, we don’t mean that at all. We have no objection to a lively or bawdy comedy,’ Sheridan put in, himself the writer of two amusing farces, The School for Scandal and The Rivals , and generally revered as a notorious wit. ‘But the genteel will not tolerate anything too offensive or uncouth, and prefer to leave the theatre with the glow of Mrs Siddons’ performance fresh in their minds.’
    ‘Mrs Siddons is the great draw,’ Tom King agreed. ‘Her performances are always well attended, and she holds two benefits each season. She is very well thought of.’
    ‘Not least by herself,’ Sheridan added with a grim smile. ‘But we cannot afford to offend her, you understand, by puffing up a newcomer too much. Not even one who comes so highly recommended by William Smith.’
    I was beginning to appreciate the size of the challenge I faced, and the battle Gentleman Smith must have faced to get me taken on. No wonder his offer had been a long time in coming. ‘May I ask what you have in mind for my debut?’
    Now Sheridan actually smiled, as if he was about to offer me a rare treat. ‘We have announced to the press that you are to play in a revival of Philaster , or Love Lies Bleeding as it is often called. It