Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [109]
“That’s not all,” she said grimly. “While his equerry, Colonel Bringfield was helping him to mount, a cannon ball struck the Colonel and took his head right off. It might so easily have been …”
“It was Providence, dearest Mrs. Freeman,” soothed Anne.
“I have been to see the Colonel’s widow,” went on Sarah. “Poor creature. She is nigh on demented. I comforted her and told her what a great service her husband had done to his country and that you would not wish to let it go unrewarded. I promised her a pension, knowing my dear Mrs. Morley’s generosity, I was sure it was what she would have wished.”
“Certainly she must have a pension. Oh, this terrible war! I shall give such heartfelt thanks, Mrs. Freeman, not only for this glorious victory, but for the preservation of dear Mr. Freeman’s life.”
Godolphin sat beside the Queen and told her what this would mean.
“The King of France lost one of his finest armies at the Battle of Blenheim, Madam, besides all the country between the Danube and the Rhine. But with his defeat at Ramillies he has lost all Flanders.”
“The Duke is a genius,” replied Anne.
“It will be said of him that he helped to make England great, Madam.”
“News has reached me that the French are desolate … quite desolate.”
“In a panic, I should say Madam. Marshall Villeroy was afraid to acquaint his master with the disaster and remained shut in his tent for five days.”
“Poor old man,” said the Queen. “I hear he is turned sixty.”
“Louis himself is almost seventy.”
“It is a pity that old men, so near the end, should be concerned with killing others. But that is war, Mr. Montgomery.”
Godolphin was pleased that the Queen should have slipped back to the familiar name with which she had endowed him. Since she knew that he supported Sarah in her demands for Sunderland she had dropped the pet name and referred to him formally as my Lord Godolphin. Ramillies, he realized, had made her see what she owed to the Churchill family; and as a member of it, by marriage, he shared in the glory.
“Well,” went on the Queen, “let us hope that the end of war is in sight … a victorious end. For I would rather see money spent on improving the lot of my people than in killing them.”
“There is no doubt, Madam, that the Duke’s victories in France are improving the lot of your subjects.”
“You are right, Mr. Montgomery, and we must have a thanksgiving service at St. Paul’s to remind them of all they owe to God for this great victory.”
“And to the great Duke,” Godolphin reminded her.
“And to the Duke,” echoed Anne.
There was consternation throughout the Court. Sarah was ill.
Her servants had gone to her room and found her lying on the floor in a fit.
As the news spread there was more excitement than there had been over the news of the victory at Ramillies. Sarah dead! What would happen at Court then? Who would take her place?
Never had Abigail found it so difficult to cloak her feelings. The feared and hated rival gone. To what glory might she not come? The battle would be over; Abigail had no fears as to who would step into Sarah’s place. She wondered what he was thinking and could guess. This would make a difference to everything.
But when she saw how distressed the Queen was she felt uneasy.
“Hill, Hill. Have you heard the news? Oh, my poor dearest Mrs. Freeman. What should I do if I lost her? I have suffered many tragedies in my life, Hill, and among them the greatest a mother can endure! The loss of my boy. But if Mrs. Freeman should die … if she should leave me …”
“Madam, you must not distress yourself,” said Abigail, interrupting for once. But Anne did not notice this; she allowed Hill to put an arm round her and hold her against her breast.
“Oh, Hill, Hill she has been so close to me … for so many years.”
Abigail looked down at the red, flabby face, wet with tears, and understood the repulsion Sarah did not trouble to disguise.
How could Anne be so besottedly fond of that woman who would never have