Courting Her Highness (29 page)

John returned the smile. Never did a man have a more faithful champion.

Before meeting for supper the company would retire to their apartments and the guest taking the Queen’s hand led her to hers and, when that was over, Prince George conducted the Archduke to his.

Anne was pleased to see Hill in the apartment quietly waiting to be of use, and for a moment she thought how pleasant it would be if instead of going down to the banquet she could visit the green closet where she could lie back in her chair and leave everything to Hill.

Almost immediately it was time to assemble before supper and the ceremonies began. All the ladies of the Court must be presented to the Archduke. He seemed to like them, for he kissed them all with a little more heartiness than seemed necesary and, during dinner when he was seated at the right hand of the Queen, he kept rising to attend to the wants of some lady.

Anne glanced about the table at Sarah who was completely absorbed in Mr. Freeman and he in her, at George who was completely absorbed in, to him, the most serious business of life—eating and drinking.

What a handsome young man! thought Anne. My boy would be a young man now. Would she never have a child? Fruitless pregnancies came and went and she had almost accepted them as part of her life. They were no more inconvenient than the gout and the dropsy. But never a child.

How morbid she was—and at a banquet! And this was such an important occasion. When that young man was King of Spain how friendly England would be with his country for he would be grateful for ever—and it was all due to the Freemans.

Dearly beloved Sarah! But how much more
comfortable
to lie back in the green closet. She thought of Hill’s white hands among the tea things. So pleasant.

She was relieved when she could retire to her apartments.

George sat wheezing in his chair. She noticed that he was very breathless after a banquet—even though George’s appetite made a banquet of every meal.

“I fear this has been a little trial to you, my dearest,” she said.

“Bed vill be goot.” George’s pronunciation grew more broad when he was tired.

“The journey was too much for you, my love. I was saying to Mrs. Freeman I was uneasy about your making it.”

“Oh … that journey. Never shall I forget. How glad I am, I said to Masham, how glad the Queen does not come. The roads … my dear love … the roads …”

“The storm of course has devastated everything. It was really not necessary for you to go. I would rather have gone myself.”

“That, my angel, I vould never allow.”

Dear George—only stern when he felt the need to protect her!

“It iss forty miles from Vindsor to Petvorth, they tell me. Fourteen hours it took, my angel, and no stop ve made safe vhen the coach was turned over and ve vas stuck in the mud.”

“My poor,
poor
George. And how was your wheeze then?”

“My veeze vas terrible, my love, vas very terrible.”

“My poor, poor George.”

“And ve should be there now, but for the men who lift up the coach vith bare hands, my angel, vith their bare hands … and they carry the coach and set it on the road.”

“That was wonderful, George. What good and faithful servants! You must present them to me and I will tell them how grateful I am. I was so anxious. I said continuously to Mrs. Freeman how I wished you had not gone.”

“But I vould not haf allowed my angel to go.”

“Nor should I have allowed mine.”

“Vell, ve are safe now … and tired … and let us to bed. But a little brandy vould be varming.”

“A little brandy. I will call Hill. Hill! Hill!”

She came at once. She could not have been far away. How pleasant she looked—how simple after all the brilliant costumes of the evening!

“His Highness fancies a little brandy, Hill. I will take some, too. Such a tiring day … and another before us tomorrow. It will help us sleep.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

And almost at once—how was she so quiet and so quick?—there she was.

So pleasant … sipping brandy with George dozing in the chair and Hill hovering in case she should be wanted.

“Hill, tell Masham His Highness is ready for bed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I too, Hill. Oh, what a tiring day!”

Samuel Masham went with the Prince into George’s dressing room and Abigail remained with the Queen.

“Such a day, Hill! What ceremonies! And this young Archduke—King as he is now. I hope he is allowed to remain so, poor boy. But I daresay Mr. Freeman will see to that. I thought Mrs. Freeman looked magnificent. And so delighted to have Mr. Freeman back. But I am worried about the Prince, Hill. He does not look well to me and that journey to Petworth must have been an ordeal. His coach stuck in the mud … overturned, if you please. And the boors had to lift it out. I really cannot think it has done His Highness any good at all. I wish you would speak to Masham, Hill. I want the greatest care taken of His Highness. Make sure that his underwear is of the warmest and he should not be in draughts.”

“Your Majesty can trust me to speak to Masham.”

“I know, Hill. I know. And now to bed … I am so tired. And tomorrow of course there will be more and more ceremonies.…”

More and more ceremonies, thought Abigail, with the Duchess of Marlborough at the Queen’s right hand, forcing herself forward, already recognized as the power behind the throne, as no King’s mistress had ever been more so. And Abigail Hill—confined to the bedchamber, but only for the term of Her Grace’s pleasure.

The Archduke Charles
was considerably refreshed next day when he joined the Queen in preparation for the ceremonies. Dinner must be
taken in public, to be followed by a concert—instrumental and vocal—and after that there would be more music and, of course, cards.

Charles looked even more handsome than he had the previous night, as dressed in his crimson coat he greeted the Queen and her attendants.

Anne found it difficult to suppress her yawns as the day went on. Dinner at three and then the long afternoon of entertainment before supper. Oh for an hour or so in the green closet! She saw that George felt as she did and was thinking longingly of that comfort.

Sarah of course felt no such desire. What energy! What vitality! Dear Mrs. Freeman makes me feel tired merely to look at her. But how handsome! How admired! And no wonder.

Charles was paying attention to her. Like everyone else he knew her importance. And how she enjoyed it! Such occasions were perfection to her. We are really quite different! thought Anne.

How glad she was that the supper was now over and there was dear Mrs. Freeman ready to perform her duty, standing before her with the bowl in which she would wash her hands and the towel across her arm.

But Charles had risen and was attempting to take the towel from Sarah’s arm.

Sarah said: “It was my duty and my honour to do this service for Her Majesty.”

Charles replied: “But at this time you will let me have that honour?”

He took the towel from Sarah and dipping it in the water, lifted one of Anne’s hands and washed it; and when he had done this he washed his own, while Sarah stood holding the bowl, with all eyes upon her; and then Charles took off a diamond ring and taking Sarah’s hand slipped it on her finger.

Sarah’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. This was an acknowledgment of her importance.

In their apartments
Sarah held out her hand with the flashing diamond in it.

“Worth a fortune,” she said.

John took the hand and kissed it.

“You know why he did it?” he said.

“Because he knows that if he wishes for England’s support he has to have mine.”

“Spoken like my Sarah.”

“And how else should I speak, pray?”

“In no other way, for I would not have my Sarah different in any small detail.”

“So I am appreciated.”

He caught her in his arms.

“It pleases me,” she said, “to be embraced by the greatest genius of our day.”

“No,” he said, “it is the great genius who is being embraced.”

“Together we are supreme, John.”

“You understand the meaning of that gesture of the Archduke?” he asked her.

“Of course. I have just told you.”

“It’s more than that. His ancestor Charles V gave a diamond ring to the mistress of François Premier when she held the bowl for him in similar circumstances. But he left his in the bowl. Charles put his on your finger. He could not treat the Duchess of Marlborough as a King’s mistress.”

“I should hope not.
I
am a respectable woman and I am thankful that at least my fat friend sets a good moral example to her subjects.”

“Ah, Sarah, what of the Queen? Should you not be in attendance?”

“There is only one on whom I intend to attend this night, my lord. Why do you think I got Abigail Hill her place?”

“You think it wise to neglect her …” began John.

But she laughed in his face and such times as these were the most precious occasions for them both.

All over Christmas
John remained in England, but he was making plans for his spring campaign. Sarah spent her time between the Queen and her husband and whenever possible they escaped to St. Albans. A sullen Mary had been given a place in the Queen’s household as lady in
waiting on the death of Lady Charlotte Beverwaret. “Where I can keep an eye on her,” said Sarah grimly. But relations between mother and daughter were decidedly strained, for Mary was not one meekly to accept meddling in her life. John, distressed by the relationship between his wife and daughter, did all he could to put it right, but while Mary continued affectionate towards him she made it clear that she had no love for her mother.

“Who would have children!” cried Sarah. “Ungrateful creatures!” But Mary continued resentful and brooding, and avoided her mother as much as she could. “It’ll pass,” said Sarah. “I remember her sullen moods of the past.”

During Anne’s birthday celebrations John Dryden’s play
All for Love
was performed in St. James’s Palace.

It was a pleasant occasion, particularly as Anne had announced on that day that she intended to celebrate her birthday by making an endowment to poor clergy. It had disturbed her for some time, she had explained to her ministers, because those who were working in the Church were so ill paid.

She had talked about this with Hill during those winter days when George had dozed, awaking now and then to emit a grunt when she addressed him, and Hill had understood perfectly how anxious she was, for she had heard that some of the clergy and their families were actually in want. “Doing the Church’s work, Hill, and in want! I remember Bishop Burnet’s advising my sister Mary and her husband William to do this. But it was useless. William thought only of war … and Mary thought exactly what he wanted her to think. I am thankful that the dear Prince is quite different. There could not be a better husband.…”

Abigail only interrupted with: “Nor a better wife than Your Majesty.”

Anne smiled. “Thank you, Hill. I could wish all my subjects could enjoy the happiness of marriage as I have done. There is only one sorrow, Hill. My babies … and particularly my boy. But I was telling you of my plan. I intend to establish a fund for the clergy. I shall make over my entire revenue from the First Fruits and the Tenths … which is from the Church … back to the Church for the benefit of the Clergy. I have been discussing this with my ministers and I have asked them to make it legal. My uncle Charles took this money to give to his mistresses, Hill. But I want to give it to those who are dedicating their lives to my church.”