Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [150]
Dear me! thought Anne. How right Mr. Harley was. These Churchills would rule us if they could. What a dangerous family! But Mr. Harley and Mr. St. John need have no fear. I shall certainly do my best to see that no more power falls into their hands.
The Queen rose and made for the door. Sarah, her eyes blazing, did an unprecedented thing; she placed herself between the Queen and the door. It was difficult, Anne thought afterwards, to know how to act when confronted by a situation which had never occurred before and which one would never have thought possible. Here was she being harangued by a subject, being held captive in a room by a subject. How extraordinary—except when one reminded oneself that it was the coarse, overbearing, vulgar Duchess of Marlborough.
“Stand aside,” said Anne regally. “I wish to leave.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “You shall hear me out,” she cried. “That’s the least favour you can do me for my having set the crown on your head and kept it there.”
Anne was too astonished for speech.
“You are willing to forget all that I have done for you … merely because a sly chambermaid has come between us. Do not think that I care on that account. I do not want your cloying affection. But I will not be insulted by a chambermaid whom I took from a broom and kept as a servant in my own house.… No, I will not be insulted by such a slut … nor will I allow the great Duke—who has won great glory for you abroad—to be so insulted. I do not care if I never see you again … but I’ll have my rights.”
“I agree with you,” said Anne calmly, “the seldomer we meet the better.”
“Do not think,” cried Sarah, “that you have heard the last of this.”
Anne touched Sarah with her fan and in that moment she was a Stuart Queen, and the daughter of Kings. Sarah was momentarily overawed and stood aside, while Anne, as well as her swollen feet would allow, walked out of the room.
“Masham!” she called. “Send Masham to me.”
Lord Godolphin did not like his mission; but the truth was he was afraid of Sarah Churchill. He admired her in a way; he was convinced that had she behaved differently all the hopes of the junta to which he belonged would have been realized. Secretly he believed that such a powerful personality must one day win her way back. So when she said that he must go to the Queen and tell her she could not allow Mrs. Abrahal a bottle of wine every day, he weakly agreed to go. It was all very well to give way to Sarah, but when he thought of the triviality of his mission he felt ridiculous.
Anne received him in the green closet, with Mrs. Masham in attendance. The spy, the snake in the grass, whom everyone knew now brought in Harley for secret conference with the Queen. That was how the rot had set in; and now it seemed that with Sarah leading them—they were all rushing downhill to complete and utter failure.
He kissed the Queen’s hand. Her manner was cool to him. She could never receive him nowadays without being reminded of the Duke’s arrogant demand and Sarah’s rages.
He talked of political matters for a while, but she felt that he was coming to some point which was the reason for his visit.
At last it came. “I have delayed sanctioning the rise in Mrs. Abrahal’s allowance, and the bottle of wine she has asked to be delivered to her lodging each day.”
“For what reason?” asked Anne.
Godolphin looked uncomfortable. “It is a little irregular, Your Majesty.”
“Irregular? In what way, pray? I have ordered it. Are you, my lord, telling me that the Queen may not raise a servant’s allowance nor order her a bottle of wine without the consent of the Parliament?”
“Oh, no, Your Majesty.”
“Then,” said Anne, “not without the consent of the Duchess of Marlborough?”
“N … no, Your Majesty, but …”
“There are no buts,” said Anne firmly. “Pray sign the order without delay and let me hear no more of this ridiculous matter.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Godolphin felt so foolish he could scarcely wait for the interview to be over; but after that he had the wrath of Sarah to face.
DR. SACHEVEREL
he light of a hundred