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seen Mama through several of her own pregnancies?
    I so longed to tell her, to seek her guidance and support, but dare not. Apart from the fragile state of her own health at this time, shame ate at my soul, even though I knew I should bear no guilt over what had happened to me. I’d had no choice in the matter but to do as Daly ordered or risk starvation for my family. Lucy was dead, and James was married, of course. Francis had joined the military and Nathaniel, a bright, intelligent boy, was at school receiving the kind of education that Mama had always dreamed of for him, his fees largely paid for by the small inheritance from Papa that had finally come our way via the Bland family. As both boys spent their leave or school holidays with Cousin Blanche, they cost me little. Even so, I sent what money I could, for all she insisted it was quite unnecessary and to look to our own needs first. Which indeed was true, as there was still Hester, George and Mama to be cared for out of my purse.
    And soon there would be a fourth member of the family dependent upon me. A frightening prospect for a girl only just turned twenty.
    My reward, if you can call it that, came in the improvement of the roles I was offered. Throughout that spring of 1782 I was given the choicest parts. I played Adelaide to John Kemble’s Count of Narbonne, Lady Anne to his Richard III, and Katherine to his Petruchio. My reputation began to rise as a result, soaring ever higher, albeit at only twenty shillings a week, which left little spare to pay off my debt, the interest increasing the outstanding sum faster than I could ever hope to reduce it.
    I made every effort to keep out of Daly’s way, to avoid him and protect myself. But without fail the summons would come, and of necessity I would obey. I did my utmost to detach myself mentally from however Daly chose to use my body, or rather abuse it. Fortunately it never took him very long before he was done, and he’d then be anxious to return to the theatre in case his wife noticed his absence.
    But after several weeks of this treatment I was finding it harder to tolerate his attentions. He was growing bolder by the day, and becoming ever more demanding. I think he enjoyed humiliating me, certainly didn’t see me as worthy of any kindness or consideration. On one visit to that miserable little room, he ratcheted up the degradation still further by insisting that I take his member in my mouth. I was so appalled, so ashamed, that I stoutly refused to perform what seemed to me a vile act.
    ‘I will not do it. I am not some street whore. You expect too much of me, and why is my debt still not settled? I have done all you asked, surely it should be paid off by now.’
    ‘ I will say when the debt is settled, not you, some twopenny actress.’ He was so enraged by my refusal that he shoved me down on the bed and took me with such a fierce violence, I cried out in agony.
    ‘It was your own fault, Dolly,’ he warned, as afterwards I struggled not to weep. ‘Had you done as you were told I would never have lost my temper and accidentally hurt you.’
    Hastily I pulled on my clothes, my anxious need to escape even more urgent than usual. ‘That was no accident, it was entirely deliberate on your part. You love to hurt and humiliate me. You are a sick, sad man and I hate you. The very fact that your victim is unwilling is what gives you the most pleasure! How much longer must this go on?’ I demanded somewhat recklessly.
    ‘Until I grow tired of you,’ came his calm reply, smilingly unruffled by my little tantrum.
    I could not go on like this, behaving like a strumpet for a man I loathed.
    But a week later he again issued his usual order to meet him that afternoon at two o’clock. I did not go. I bravely, or perhaps recklessly is a more accurate word, ignored his instructions. He was furious.
    ‘Where were you? I waited an hour and you did not come. How dare you disobey me?’
    I stiffened my spine to stand