Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [177]
She was angry now for frustrated hopes, for the reckless disregard for a career which together they could have made great.
“My lord …”
“Why, ’tis Lady Masham.”
“You seem surprised. It is true we do not meet as frequently as we did once.”
“Lady Masham will understand that there are many duties to claim my attention now.”
Yes, thought Abigail; and so old friends who have helped you to your place can be forgotten.
She said: “It is agreeable for your old friends to see your success.”
“I would not deprive them of their pleasure for the world.”
“I am sure you are not the man to forget old friends.”
“I regret I have little time for brooding on the past—an occupation not suited to my talents; and it is an astonishing thing how many are ready to claim old friendship now who were once on little more than nodding acquaintance with me.”
“You cannot count me among those,” retorted Abigail sharply. “And for that reason I wished to ask you for a little advice regarding some investments. I am not a rich woman.…”
Oxford waved his hand lightly. “My dear Lady Masham, I am sure that one of my secretaries will give you all the advice you need.”
He bowed; she could scarcely hold her expression until he had passed.
How dared he! After all he owed to her! In all the vast profits he had made he was not ready to give one bit of recognition.
She was a woman with children, whose future she wished to make secure. Very well, Robert Harley—Lord Oxford as he had become through her good graces—would see that if he would not have her for his friend, he could have her for his enemy.
The Queen was enjoying a return to health. Peace was at last in sight; and the Marlboroughs were abroad. It was surprising what an effect these two facts had upon her. She never ceased to marvel with her two dearest friends Lady Masham and the Duchess of Somerset.
It was exciting to hunt at Windsor, riding furiously in the chaise she had used in the past which was drawn by one horse, so that she could follow the stag as though she were actually on horseback. It was long since she had been able to enjoy that form of relaxation.
How good it was to feel well again—or almost. Her feet were swollen and sore but her dear friend’s ministrations soon soothed them; then they would settle down to gossip and cards. What pleasure! She was reminded of the old days in the green closet when Abigail Masham—who was Hill then—used to bring in Mr. Harley for their secret conferences.
Mr. Harley! There was a faintly disturbing thought. He was a little uncouth in his appearance. And last time he had come to her he had had the appearance of being intoxicated.
She would not have believed it, but she had seen the quick glance Masham had given him and then herself … as though she were wondering if she, Anne, had noticed.
Masham would be concerned, for she had always thought so highly of Lord Oxford and they were related, though obscurely.
Oh dear, Anne hoped there was not going to be trouble there, just as she had believed everything was going so well.
Such busy days! She even went to the Datchett races. These pleasures must not interfere with her state business of course; and she performed all the public duties which her rank demanded. She was seen at church; she received in her drawing room; and she ordered that an announcement should be put into the London Gazette reminding the people that she would touch people afflicted with the Evil in her palace at St. James’s; and as a result the people flocked there.
She sat benign, the mother of her people; and in the streets it was said that the bad days were over. No more war; prosperity was coming; and England was going to be merry under Good Queen Anne.
Abigail had dressed with special care to receive her visitor. She was excited. What transpired at this encounter could