Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [135]
“Do you think I would make a politician, Abigail?”
“Your tongue is scarcely ready enough.”
She thought of Harley, whose tongue was ever-ready. In time Harley would become the Queen’s chief Minister. She was sure of it. There ought to be room in his government for a place for Abigail Masham’s husband.
Then she thought of the great Duke and the power of commanding the Army. With Marlborough abroad and Sarah at home the Churchills could have ruled the country. But Sarah had been a fool as Abigail never would be. But on the other hand Marlborough was a military genius and Samuel would never be any sort of genius.
Abigail sighed and slipped her arm through that of her husband.
“One thing we have decided,” she said, “and that it is that it must either be politics or the Army.”
The quiet of the little house in Windsor was broken by the news of Marlborough’s great victory at Oudenarde.
“The great Duke is a genius,” said Anne when she read the news and hastily wrote to him expressing her appreciation, but when she saw the lists of dead and wounded in the battle and understood the losses which had gone to make this victory she wept.
“Oh Lord,” she cried, “when will all this dreadful bloodshed cease.”
Such a victory, whatever it had cost, must be celebrated. The nation would expect it; and Anne must therefore leave Windsor and travel to London for the thanksgiving service at St. Paul’s.
Marlborough’s new feat had brought Sarah back to Court triumphantly, snapping her fingers with glee. Let them understand once and for all that they could not do without Marlborough.
She was back at her old duties at the wardrobe. She would ride with the Queen to St. Paul’s, and receive the cheers. And some people would realize that they must take her into account, for she was far more important than any dirty little chambermaid could ever be.
Anne, terribly anxious on account of George, was subdued when she considered all those who had fallen on the battlefield, asking herself how much longer this dreadful war would continue and whether the good which would come of victory was worth the price that was paid; and Sarah with customary blindness and concern with her own affairs mistook this for remorse for the manner in which Anne had treated her and a desire to return to the old relationship.
Very well, thought Sarah, she would take her back; but she must realize that if the friendship was to be put back on its old footing, there must be no more foolish tantrums.
She bustled into the royal apartments where the Queen was resting in preparation for the ordeal before her and busied herself with arranging the Queen’s jewels. Mrs. Danvers, recovered from her illness and no longer concerned with immediate death, fluttered sycophantishly round her, whispering of the further insolence of that upstart Masham, for in Sarah’s presence it was impossible for some people to doubt that she was all she believed herself to be.
“The Queen will wear these rubies and these diamonds,” Sarah told Danvers. “She must look … dazzling. The people will expect it.”
“Well, Your Grace, she will look magnificent.”
“And so she should, Danvers. To look anything less would be an insult to the Duke!”
Sarah was undoubtedly back. Mrs. Danvers predicted to Mrs. Abrahal that Mrs. Masham would not be lording it much longer. It was only necessary for the Duchess to make an appearance and it was remembered how important she was. It would not be long, mark her words, before Madam Masham was sent away and things would be as they used to be in the old days.
Abigail was in attendance on the Queen, helping her prepare for the journey to St. Paul’s. She was uneasy. The attitude of the bedchamber women had changed towards her; they were faintly insolent. “Her Grace has said that Her Majesty shall wear these.…” As though Her Grace were the Queen. They did not know that the Queen had changed towards the Duchess in the last months. Abigail