Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [16]
Why? wondered Abigail. The answer was simple. Because they wanted a marriage to take place as soon as possible, and Henrietta was older than Anne.
Abigail believed that their wish would be granted, for Henrietta, bold and dashing, was determined not to be put aside for her sister. She began to understand why Francis had been brought to St. Albans, and summed him up as a docile young man who could be trained to become the kind of husband whom she could dominate. To dominate was a need with her, as it was with her mother. She wanted her freedom. Marriage could give her that—and what better than marriage with a malleable man!
Anne, who had no desire for marriage with Francis Godolphin, was well content to remain in the background, leaving the field clear for Henrietta.
There had been no lavish hospitality for the Godolphins. The Earl of Marlborough had no intention of throwing away good money for that. Sidney Godolphin was a friend of his—at least as near a friend as they could have in their ambitious lives. They could go along together, be of use to each other; they shared their dreams of power; so if Godolphin could be persuaded to the marriage it would not be because of rich food being served from gold plate, but because he saw in it a useful alliance between two ambitious families.
But after the visit the Churchills were still uncertain.
The Earl and Countess walked in the gardens discussing it. Lady Marlborough’s strident voice floated over to Abigail Hill who had been sent to weed the flower border in the enclosed garden.
“What do you think, Marl?”
The Earl’s voice did not reach Abigail.
Sarah’s went on, “Well, if Sidney Godolphin thinks he’s too good for the Marlboroughs …” A low reproving murmur. “What do we care for him? And I’ll tell you this: I think he was considering very seriously. He knows what will happen when Caliban dies. And it must be soon. It must. It must. I had it from one of the pages that he’s spitting blood … badly. How does he go on? He must have a pact with the devil. That wouldn’t surprise me.” A pause. “Good gracious, Marl! Who would hear me out here? And what I say about him, I mean. What? Henrietta seemed taken with the boy? She had better be, Marl. She had better be.” Then: “I know. We married for love. But that boy’s not you. And Henrietta’s not me. We were different. You must see that.” The sounds of laughter. “I tell you this, John Churchill, I’ll have Henrietta married to Francis Godolphin if I have to whip her to the altar.”
Abigail went on weeding. She was thinking of the future of Henrietta, married to Francis Godolphin. A place of honour at Court. Lady Marlborough would make sure of that—and the children they would have would belong to the Churchills and the Godolphins.
Abigail stood up to press her hands to her aching back. How exciting to play a part in moulding affairs of state. What fun to be at the Court, to make decisions!
How she would enjoy that!
She laughed at herself. She was imagining herself a Godolphin or a Churchill. As if such opportunities would ever come her way!
There were more visits from the Godolphins, and Francis and Henrietta seemed as though they would fall in with their parents’ wishes for they clearly enjoyed each other’s company.
Henrietta’s seventeenth birthday came and although the Earl of Marlborough wished his daughter to wait a little, his wife was impatient and Abigail was sure that soon she would have her way.
Then an event occurred which was clearly the first step towards the change in the Marlboroughs’ fortunes.
The King had evidently decided that much as he distrusted Marlborough it was better to have him on his side than against him, and while he was skulking in semi-banishment William could not be sure what mischief he would stir up. He knew of the rapprochement between the Marlborough and Godolphin families; he would therefore feel happier with Marlborough at Court