Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [131]
The best of the Army was in Europe but this would be a matter for the fleet, said Marlborough. Sir George Byng was setting sail immediately to prevent the hostile force landing.
But they must be watchful, for Scotland and the Northern counties were ready to revolt.
When Marlborough left, Anne immediately summoned Abigail to bring her brandy.
“It is so alarming,” she said as she sipped gratefully. “The Prince so ill … and all this trouble!”
Abigail wiped the poor eyes which watered frequently.
“Thank you, my dear. How I wish there need not be this strife. He is my brother for all that he comes against me.”
“Your Majesty is sure of that?”
“Oh, there were rumours. Some thought at the time that he was brought into the bed by means of a warming pan … but I have heard that he is very like my dear father. So good my father was to me, Masham. And to my sister Mary. He doted on us. He was a good father … but so distressingly fond of women … like my uncle Charles. But the people were fond of him. By the way, I hear that they are not pleased because the Duchess has taken his old house near the Mall. She has had the oak cut down which he planted.”
“The people loved that oak, Madam. To them it was a symbol of royalty. The oak saved King Charles’s life and they loved it for that reason.”
“They still wear the oak apple in memory of the occasion, Masham. Yes, my uncle was much loved, but my father … alas, he had his enemies. I often think of those days and I wish … I wish with all my heart, Masham.…”
“Your Majesty must not upset yourself.”
“But there is this conflict … and now my own brother comes against me. He is but a boy. Is it not sad, Masham? I often think of all the babies I have lost and I wondered whether it was a curse on me. And now my dearest husband … There will be no hope of more children.”
Abigail did not know how to comfort the Queen; she could not speak of the possibility of a more fruitful marriage while the Prince still clung to life.
“No, I shall have no heirs of my body,” went on Anne. “And we must think of the succession. I do not like the Germans, Masham. And this boy is my father’s own son. I am sure of it.”
“But, Madam, you cannot wish that this venture of his will be victorious!”
Anne smiled at her dear friend’s horror, and took Abigail’s freckled hand in hers.
“No, my dear. He will not be successful. The Duke would never allow that. I can only hope that he will not be harmed. That is what I fear. I should like him to go quietly back to France and wait … and when I am gone …”
“Your Majesty would make him your heir?”
“I think that would please my father and that then everything would be right.”
“He would have to become a member of the Church of England, Madam.”
“Oh, yes. He would have to be that. And if he were … then I think it would be the happiest solution. Meanwhile, poor boy, he will try to take by force that which, if he would but wait in patience, I should be very happy to hand over to him.”
Abigail laid her head against the Queen’s hand.
“What is it, Masham? Your cheeks are wet.”
“I cannot bear to hear Your Majesty speak of the days when you will not be here.”
“Dear Masham! You make my life so much more bearable than it would otherwise be. But I have lost my boy. It is over now, some say, but to me it is as fresh as though it happened yesterday. Always I hoped that there would be others … but now … I am losing my dearest husband. Oh, Masham. I hope you enjoy with Samuel what I have with George.”
“It is Your Majesty’s goodness which makes everything good about you.”
“You are a dear creature. But all is not good. And now my own brother comes against me.”
“He will not succeed, Your Majesty.”
“I know it. But he comes to try to take that which I hold and which he thinks I usurped from him. It is not so, Masham. The people would never have a papist on the throne.”
“Your Majesty has always faithfully upheld the Church of England.”
“Therein I find my strength, Masham. In the Church, which assures me I did right.”
Abigail kissed