Courting Her Highness (46 page)

But Sarah was
to find that it was possible. Anne had changed towards her, and although the Queen wrote that she would always be pleased
to hear from Mrs. Freeman, she was cool during their meetings, and when she received Sarah would remain standing so that it was impossible for Sarah to sit, which was an indication in itself that the audience would be one of short duration.

Sarah did not know how to meet such a situation. Tact had never been one of her qualities. There were times when she believed that with a little effort she could win back the Queen’s affections, but Sarah had never sought to win any affection in her life; she had simply taken as a right that which was given her.

Even when she wrote to the Queen her tactlessness was in every line. She could only write angrily and reproachfully. She attacked Abigail continuously, and Anne defended her.

Sarah could not see that the way to win Anne back was not through attacking Abigail.

Then she accused the Queen of not being frank with her. She herself had always been of the frankest nature and had not Mrs. Morley always admired that quality in Mrs. Freeman?

But this was more than a break between the Queen and the Duchess. The Court watched with interest, the Government with alarm; and the man of the moment was Harley who had alienated the Queen from Marlborough and Godolphin.

Harley was a Tory and the Queen had always been a Tory at heart. There was only one thing a Whig Ministry could do and that was get rid of Harley.

Harley had engaged several of the great writers of the day to work for him. Pamphlets were being circulated throughout the city; but his enemies had realized the value of the literary weapon and the age of lampoons had begun.

The story of Abigail Hill’s friendship with the Queen could, the Whigs believed, be used to advantage. It was very different, they believed, from her devotion to the Duchess.

In the streets they had begun to sing the Whig song:

Abigail listened quietly; Harley was mildly annoyed; and when the Duke returned from his activities on the Continent for the winter, he grasped the danger of the situation and went into consultation with Godolphin to decide what should be done.

ord Godolphin went down to Holywell House
to make plans with the Marlboroughs.

The Duke, realizing that Sarah had herself been largely responsible for her own unpopularity with the Queen, but not daring to tell her so, was torn between his schemes for further conquests abroad and those for ending this intolerable situation at Court.

Godolphin, old, tired and having little love for his task, needed guidance and the Queen’s recent appointment of two new Bishops to Exeter and to Chester had aroused his suspicion.

With Sarah they walked in the gardens, for she said, after the perfidy of that chambermaid she trusted no one—least of all her servants.

It was Sarah who talked. “Blackhall to Exeter and Dawes to Chester!” she cried. “That will mean two more Tory votes in the Lords. We can’t afford it. And you know why Anne has appointed them, don’t you? Because Masham has let Harley into the green closet and he has brought her round to his view that they are the men for the jobs. I tell you this, Marl, and you, Sidney … we cannot stand idle any longer.”

“She is as usual right,” said the Duke, slipping his arm through that of his wife. “We have to be rid of Harley.”

“But how?” asked Godolphin.

Sarah looked at the Lord Treasurer’s heavy eyes and pockmarked skin. A poor ally, she thought, lacking adventure. But what pleasure it gave her to turn from him to dearest Marl, who seemed to grow more handsome year by year and whose genius would win this battle for them as it had won Blenheim and Ramillies.

“You are right, Marl,” she said. “We have to be rid of Harley.”

“How?” repeated Godolphin.

“He must be asked to resign,” said the Duke.

“Ha!” laughed Sarah. “And you think this creeper into green closets, this friend of our dirty little chambermaid will do that?”

“I think,” the Duke replied, “that he will have to be forced to do it.”

“How?”

“If Sidney and I refuse to serve with him, he will have to go.”

“And you will do that?”

“We will feel our way first.”

“Trust you for that!” laughed Sarah affectionately.

“In the old days,” said Marlborough sadly, “it would have been easy for you to have explained to the Queen.”

“And now alas she won’t listen to any but that dirty chambermaid.”

“Who,” put in Godolphin, “will fight for Harley!”

“Marl,” said Sarah, “you go and see her. She is fond of you, and if she has any gratitude she should not be able to refuse you anything.”

It was agreed that Marlborough should see the Queen.

The Queen sat
back in her chair exhausted, and sent for Masham.

“Your Majesty is very tired,” said Abigail anxiously. “I fear the Duke has wearied you.”

“So tired, Masham. Far more so than when I go hunting the stag, I can assure you.”

Abigail said that she was terrified every time the Queen hunted in the
high wheeled chair which was drawn by the fastest horse in her stables. “I sit and tremble until Your Majesty returns. You are quite intrepid, Madam.”

Anne pushed aside Abigail’s fears. “I have hunted since I was a child, Masham; and my one-horse chaise is excellent for me nowadays.”

“And now Your Majesty is as tired as after the hunt.”

“More so, Masham, more so.”

“Your visitor proved tiresome?”

“I’m afraid so, Hill. The Duke is such a charming man and I have always been so fond of him; and of course I never forget his brilliance in battle. But … I cannot give way in everything however brilliant a commander he is, can I?”

“I am sure Your Majesty should never give way. It is others who should give way to you.”

“I have grown so fond of dear Mr. Harley. Of course the Duke does not like him. He says that he does not care to serve in a ministry which contains Mr. Harley.”

“I see,” said Abigail.

“Yes, that is what he wants. And Godolphin is with him. It would not grieve me greatly to do without Godolphin, but I do not see what our armies would do without the Duke.”

Abigail was silent.

“Oh dear,” went on the Queen. “There seems to be nothing but quarrels. Make me some tea. I feel I need a little sustenance.”

Abigail made the tea and planned at the same time as to how she could get the news to Harley that Marlborough and Godolphin were attempting to oust him from his post.

When she returned with the tea she sat on the stool at the Queen’s feet.

“That’s better,” said Anne. “Just the right amount of sugar. Of course I told the Duke that I could not do without Mr. Harley. I have come to depend upon him. I shall summon a meeting of Council; then they will have to attend. Perhaps then they will put their complaints of Mr. Harley to his face.”

“But Your Majesty will not ask him to resign?”

“Certainly I shall not,” said the Queen.

Abigail made her
way to Albemarle Street; she was let in without question and taken up to Harley’s private study.

He took both her hands and kissed her on the forehead; it was the chaste greeting he often bestowed upon her.

“Marlborough has been to see the Queen.”

He nodded. “I know he is determined to ruin me.”

“He hasn’t a chance. The Queen is firmly behind you.”

“A position, my dear coz, in which you have helped to place her.”

“She won’t allow you to resign.”

“I am wondering if it mightn’t be a necessity.”

“A necessity!” Abigail was aghast.

“My dear cousin, you are so concerned?”

“But everything we have worked for …”

“Will not be lost. Depend upon it, in the long run we will drive Marlborough and his virago of a Duchess out of office. But the time is not yet.”

“Something has happened?”

He nodded.

“Something bad … for us?”

He nodded again.

She, who was habitually so calm, stamped her foot in sudden anger.

“They have been clever, our enemies,” he said. “Perhaps we underestimated them. We have been congratulating ourselves on the follies of Sarah, but her friends are strong and ingenious.”

“Tell me,” she said impatiently.

“They have arrested a clerk in my office.”

“What has this to do with us?”

“A great deal. A communication he sent to Chamillart was opened in Holland.”

“Who is Chamillart?”

“The French Secretary of State.”

“Good God!” cried Abigail.

“You may well exclaim. He will be tried for High Treason.”

“And you?”

“You can guess what our enemies are saying, can you not?”

“That you are guilty of … treason?”

“Well, they couldn’t have hoped for better luck, could they?”

“But you …”

“I knew nothing of it, but the clerk was in my office. It is information which passes through my hands which has been discovered on its way to the enemy. You can imagine that Sarah is choking with laughter over this. It may not be only my office that I may have to give up, but my head.”

Abigail was pale.

“It won’t come to this.”

“Powerful people are doing all they know to make it.”

“We will defeat them.”

“How fierce you are, cousin!”

“But, this must not be. Everything we have worked for …”

He came close to her and smiled his enigmatic smile which never failed to excite her.

“You are not disturbed,” she asked. “You seem as though you do not care.”

“But you do, cousin,” he said smiling. “Odd, is it not … that you should be more concerned than I?”