Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [103]
“No, Your Majesty, and that is understandable.”
“He has never been a friend to the Prince and as you know, Hill, no one who was not a friend of the Prince could be a friend of mine.”
“Your Majesty and the Prince are an example to all married couples in this realm.”
“I have been fortunate, Hill, in marrying one of the kindest men alive.”
“It is only necessary to see the Prince’s care for Your Majesty to realize that.”
“Such a good man, Hill! And Sunderland voted against his allowance and now would like to be my Secretary of State in place of dear Sir Charles Hedges—such a charming man whom I have always liked.”
“How fortunate that it is for Your Majesty to choose her ministers.”
“Of course, Hill.”
Anne felt better already. Dear Hill, always so soothing!
“I hate to disappoint the Duchess, Hill.”
“But, Madam, the Duchess must hate to disappoint you.”
The Queen was silent as a memory of Sarah’s flushed and angry face floated before her.
“The Duchess left in a hurry,” said Hill, speaking more boldly than she usually did, for it was rarely that she offered an opinion or an observation. “She seemed angry. She must be so … with herself … for having offended Your Majesty.”
Anne pressed the small freckled hand of her attendant. Dear Hill! So tactful! So different.
“I do not like the man’s temper, Hill,” she said firmly, “and I should never have a friendly relationship with him.”
Abigail Hill put on a cloak which concealed her from top to toe and coming out of the Palace sped across the park.
She paused before a mansion in Albermarle Street, knocked, and when she was admitted asked that Mr. Harley be told Mrs. Abigail Hill wished to speak to him without delay.
She did not have to wait long. She was taken into a drawing room and there was joined after a few minutes by Harley himself.
As ever she was excited by his presence. He was like a different person in his own home—less formal—and she could not help picturing herself as the mistress of such a home.
His eyes were a trifle glassy and as he came into the room even before he approached her she could smell the wine on his breath. But he was by no means intoxicated. She realized that the smell of wine or spirits was always with him; yet never did he appear influenced by it in the slightest way.
“My dear cousin,” he said; coming to her and taking her hands; as he did so the hood fell back from her head and he smiled into her eyes; and in that moment he conveyed nothing but his pleasure to see her, completely hiding the urgent desire to know why she had taken this unusual step.
She did not keep him in suspense.
“The Queen is agitated and even angry I suspect with the Duchess who has suggested that Sunderland replace Hedges.”
He was alert at once.
“Sunderland!” he said. “What a position! We must not let that happen, cousin.”
“So I thought.”
“And the Queen … she is at least angry.”
Abigail nodded. “She keeps repeating that she doesn’t like him and would never be friends with him. Sarah has left in a huff.”
“What a fool she is. Thank God! She has left Court?”
“I think so.”
“Make sure of that. She must not have any idea that we enjoy those friendly little sessions in the green closet. If she does that will be an end to them, for she is not such a fool as to allow them to go on.”
“She has no suspicion.”
“We must keep her in ignorance, but I should see the Queen without delay. Dear clever little cousin, find some means of conveying a message to me when you are sure Sarah is well away, and try to get the Queen alone in the closet.”
Abigail nodded. “The Prince …”
“Does not count, dear coz, providing he sleeps—and he is almost certain to do that. Hot chocolate is very soothing. Suggest it and get him well asleep. He is inclined to favour the Marlboroughs and might have a favourable word to say for them.”
“He fancies himself as a great soldier and therefore admires the Duke.”
“Now is the time, cousin, to work swiftly and in secret. Sunderland must not have the post. We must prevent it.”
“I will let you know