‘All through the summer,’ she echoed, thinking of those affectionate letters he had written to her at that time, telling her about the children, never giving a hint that he was courting this girl. She thought of the money she had sent him, money earned by her performances when she was far from Bushy and longed to be there but dared not give up because they needed what she could bring in to the home.
‘As for the family’s wanting him to marry. They might think it advisable for him to marry a German Princess, but do you think they will give their approval to marriage with Miss Long? They might… as she is so rich and he’s in debt up to his ears… but I thought you should know that he is treating you shamefully. And you should make sure that you get a good allowance from him. He should pay for his sins. I am sure the Regent will be of this opinion.’
Dorothy was overcome with grief. This changed everything. He was deceitful as well as unfaithful. She felt weary of everything.
If it were not for the children she would go right away, go abroad, hide herself, prepare to die for she felt so ill that she could not believe that death was not far off.
Cumberland went on to give her details of the gay doings at Ramsgate. Clarence was not there because it was a naval occasion but because the Tylney-Longs were there. He had deceived her completely. He made a point of dancing throughout the evening with the heiress; he never left her side; he was quarrelling incessantly with Wellesley-Pole because he was one of Miss Long’s favoured suitors.
It was too humiliating.
But it was true. Cumberland had brought the papers to show her.
There was one cartoon in which was portrayed a boatman bringing his boat to shore. The boatman was clearly the Duke of Clarence and standing on the shore was a girl, her apron full of gold coins. Beside the girl was another figure – Wellesley-Pole – and in the background Dorothy herself surrounded by ten children. From her mouth came a balloon in which were the words: ‘What, leave your faithful Peggy?’
A verse reputed to be Miss Long’s response to the importuning of the Duke ran:
‘Sir, if your passion is sincere,
I feel for one who is not here;
One who has been for years your pride,
And is, or ought to be, your bride;
Shared with you all your cares and joys
The mother of your girls and boys
Tis cruelty, the most refined
And shows a mean, ungenerous mind,
To take advantage of your power
And leave her like a blighted flower
Return to Mistress Jordan’s arms,
Soothe her and quiet her alarms;
Your present difficulties o’er,
Be wise and play the fool no more.’
‘So you see,’ said Cumberland, ‘I tell you only the truth. I feel it right that you should know it. Don’t trust him, but make sure he does what is right by you and the children. I am sure the Prince Regent will agree that this should be.’
Dorothy thanked him. She wanted to be alone with her misery.
After a while her grief gave way to anger.
To be so deceived! After all these years, how could he do this? She remembered how ardent he had been when he had sought her. Then she had regarded herself as Richard Ford’s wife, and who knew he might have married her. How much happier she might have been as Lady Ford, the respected wife – and widow now – of Sir Richard.
But she had loved William; she had borne his children, her own beloved family.
What would become of them all if he married this heiress?
He was making a fool of himself. The writers said so. ‘Be wise and play the fool no more.’ An ageing man, chasing a young girl… and for her fortune. It was too humiliating to be endured – for him and for her.
She sat down and wrote two letters, one to William in which she told him that she was aware of his antics at Ramsgate and that she knew that he had lied to her about being forced to make a State marriage. She realized that it was Miss Long’s money he needed – for she could supply him more liberally than an actress, however hard the latter worked.
Then she wrote to Cumberland and thanked him for calling on her and telling the truth of what was happening in Ramsgate.
In her agitation she put the letters into the wrong envelopes, so that Cumberland received Clarence’s and Clarence Cumberland’s.
Everyone was talking about the great quarrel between Clarence and Cumberland. It was whispered that the elder would challenge the younger to a duel.
There were always spies to report royal actions and the great joke was that Cumberland had told tales of his brother to Mrs Jordan who, naturally indignant, had written to her ex-lover telling him what she thought of his conduct… but the letter had gone to Cumberland and her letter of thanks for his revelations to Clarence.
What a joke! What a genius these brothers had for supplying the gossip writers with exactly the material they needed.
Miss Tylney-Long did not care to be involved in such a controversy. Her name was constantly in the newspapers and she was always depicted with her arms full of rent rolls of gold coins on which the lusting eyes of the Duke rested – not on her pretty face.
She refused to take the advice of her friends and family who saw that her fortune might purchase a crown.
She accepted William Wellesley-Pole. She preferred him in any case.
So William was the rejected suitor.
The refusal of Miss Tylney-Long did not deter William from looking for another heiress; and almost immediately he was seeking to make Miss Mercer Elphinstone his bride.
Miss Elphinstone was less rich than Miss Tylney-Long, but only a little less. She was young and good-looking and had ingratiated herself so completely with the Princess Charlotte that she almost controlled all the Princess’s actions.
She pretended for a while to consider the Duke of Clarence, but never seriously. William was hurt and bewildered. He had thought that royalty was a passport to marriage with any woman who could only achieve it through marriage with a member of his family.
He was mistaken. The young ladies saw William as a ridiculous old man; he had not waited long to mourn the loss of Miss Tylney-Long. He was determined on an heiress obviously and had not the wit to pretend that he wasn’t.
Miss Elphinstone was not the sort of woman who cared to be ridiculed and she soon made it clear that she had no intention of taking the Duke seriously.
To be rejected so publicly was humiliating to the family and the Prince Regent was displeased.
‘Good God,’ he cried, ‘aren’t we unpopular enough? Do you have to make us ridiculous! You would have done better to have stayed with Dora.’
William agreed, but he would try again. He would find one heiress who was glad to have him.
Dorothy meanwhile had done her best to put the Duke in a good light, but insisted on his paying her an adequate income with which she could support the younger children.
The Duke knew he must concede to her request and promised to allow her £1,500 every year for the maintenance of his children, and £1,500 for herself; for her house and carriage she should have £600, and £800 to make provision for Fanny, Dodee and Lucy.
There was a condition. Should she return to the stage the £1,500 a year paid for the maintenance of her children should not be paid and the children should return to their father.
The settlement was completed.
Dorothy found a house in Cadogan Place and decided that this should be her new home. To this she took the younger FitzClarences, the Alsops, the Marches and the Hawkers. At least she had all her children under one roof.