Read Goddess of the Green Room: (Georgian Series) for Free Online

return to her lodgings; as she came out into one of the corridors of that warren which was Smock Alley Theatre she heard her name called faintly. She paused. She did not recognize the voice but it sounded like one of the young girl players.
    ‘Miss Francis… oh… come quickly… up in the attic…’
    She hurried up the narrow stairs to the top of the building.
    ‘Miss Francis…’
    She opened the door of the attic; it was dark inside.
    She called. ‘Who is it? Where are you? Wait… I’ll get a candle.’
    She heard the sound of a key turning in a lock; and there was a chuckle from behind; she was seized in a powerful pair of arms.
    She knew immediately. What a fool! she thought. Of course he could imitate one of the girls. He was enough of an actor for that.
    ‘Dorothy, you idiot,’ said Daly. ‘How long did you think you could say No to me?’
    ‘Let me go immediately.’
    ‘All in good time.’
    ‘Mrs Daly…’
    ‘Is not in the theatre tonight.’
    ‘You’re a devil.’
    ‘I don’t deny it.’
    He was laughing as she hit out at him. She shouted and screamed, but he laughed. ‘No one can hear.’
    ‘I… I’ll kill you.’
    ‘You can try. Most of them want to smother me with their caresses.’
    ‘I will never, never do that.’
    ‘In time you will. Go on. Kick… scream. I like it. It’s a novelty… and it’s all useless.’
    She fought until she was exhausted, but he was the stronger. Crying with rage, frustration and shame she was forced to submit to rape.
    She crept into her bedroom. Thank God she did not have to share with Hester or Grace for if she had, how could she have kept this hideous secret? Her clothes were torn, her body bruised and battered, and she herself was bitterly humiliated.
    She should have known. All that care she had taken in the beginning and then to be lulled into security, and caught like that. She would never forget; she would go on remembering every nauseating second.
    And he had laughed triumphantly, knowing all the time that he would win.
    What could she do?
    Her impulse was to pack and leave. But how could she explain the reason to her mother? She pictured Grace’s terror. It was what she feared would happen to her daughters – only even she had not thought of rape.
    I hate him, she thought. He’s a devil.
    She wished she could stop thinking of it. The darkness of the attic, the losing battle virtue and decency had fought against brutal and bestial strength.
    What chance had she had?
    She could not stop thinking of him, brooding on him, hating him and yet… she would not admit it. She was not fascinated by him. She was not one of those silly little girls who were ready to run when he beckoned.
    ‘I hate him,’ she said aloud.
    But what could she do? She took off her clothes and wrapped herself in a dressing gown. She could go into her mother’s room now and say, ‘We are leaving in the morning. I shall never go into Daly’s theatre again.’ She thought of the parts he had given her, playing opposite Kemble, and giving all that up. For what? To start again in England? Where? And who would give her a chance?
    Time was what she needed. Time to think about the right course of action.
    I have not only myself to consider, she reminded herself.
    She saw him the next day and scornfully turned her head away.
    ‘Don’t be despondent, my dear,’ he said. ‘I’ll arrange another little rape for you very very soon.’
    ‘You’re loathsome,’ she cried.
    ‘I know.’
    ‘I wish I’d never seen you.’
    ‘My dear Dorothy hates me so vehemently that it’s almost love.’ he said.
    She turned away, suppressing a great inclination to burst into tears.
    She was careful never to be alone with him; but he was constantly in her thoughts. It must be so, she told herself, because she must be continually on the alert against him.
    Once or twice when by some mischance he encountered her alone he would ask her to step up once more to their attic.
    ‘Never,’