Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [127]
“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?”
Marlborough and Godolphin had absented themselves from the Council meeting, and although Harley attempted to open it he was not allowed to do so for the Duke of Somerset pointed out that there could not be such a meeting if both the Lord Treasurer and the Commander in Chief were absent. The Queen was angry, for she had meant to show Marlborough and Godolphin that she could do very well without them.
It was an anxious day for Abigail when it was proved that William Gregg, the clerk in Harley’s employ, had attempted to sell information to France and that he had received a hundred guineas for his pains.
The Whig writers were busy inflaming the people against Harley. Harley was the traitor, they said; he was hiding behind Gregg; and the Marlborough Junta waited eagerly for Gregg to betray his master.
In the green closet Abigail brought Harley to the Queen.
“My dear friend,” cried Anne, with tears in her eyes, “I know full well what your enemies are trying to do to you. I’ll not allow it. You know that I trust you.”
“Your Majesty’s kindness overwhelms me,” Harley told her. “If I possess that, I care for naught else.”
“Such trouble!” sighed the Queen. “And at such a time!”
She glanced towards the Prince who was propped up in his chair and it was clear that his breathing was more painful than usual.
“Masham has been with me all night,” said the Queen. “We have had to be in constant attention upon my poor angel. He does not hear what we say. I fear he is very bad indeed. And all this trouble …”
“Madam,” said Harley, “I shall offer my resignation. I believe that is the way at this time to save you trouble.”
“Mr. Harley, I could not accept it.”
“Madam, you need to give your attention to His Highness. This is not the time to be plagued by the squabbles of your ministers.”
“I don’t know what I should do without you, my dear friend.”
“I do not suggest that Your Majesty should do without my advice. It is yours when you wish it. I live but to serve you, Madam. My cousin, your Majesty’s most faithful servant, will bring me to you as before. You shall discuss your desires with me and if you think my opinion of value I shall continue to give it. Madam, it will make no difference. I shall sever myself from your Government but I shall continue to serve you with all my power.”
“You mean that you will come as before? You will advise me … and at the same time put a stop to this dreadful squabbling.”
“I shall leave you Marlborough and Godolphin, Madam. And you will not lose my services … for as long as you need them.”
“I think we had better call Masham. Masham, my dear, I think you should call the Prince’s doctors.”
George was a little better the next day and Anne summoned Marlborough to tell him that Harley had resigned.
The Marlborough faction was delighted, but the Duke was the first to wonder whether the victory had been so complete. Harley’s friends, St. John, Sir Simon Harcourt and Sir Thomas Mansell