Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [23]
“No,” said Marlborough, “I don’t like it.”
Sarah sighed. Not only had she to arrange this difficult match, but she must make her husband see that it was necessary.
She set to work in her usual indefatigable manner.
Since Marlborough was not eager for the match Sarah herself sounded Sunderland, who at once grasped the importance of what she was trying to do.
By God, thought Sunderland, they already have Godolphin. With Marlborough and myself, the three of us would be invincible.
To Sarah’s delight he was wholeheartedly enthusiastic.
“My daughter is a very beautiful and charming girl,” said Sarah.
“I am sure, having such a mother, she could be nothing else,” was Sunderland’s reply.
Sarah waved such flattery aside impatiently. “My Lord Marlborough, however, is not in great favour of the match.”
“And why not, I pray you tell me.”
“Oh, Lord Spencer is a Whig and my lord is a staunch Tory.”
“My son would be guided by me in all matters of importance.”
Would he? wondered Sarah. She remembered how the Whiggish prig had denounced his father’s conduct. But that was of no great concern. If Sunderland could not manage his son, she would manage her son-in-law. The important point was to have the three most powerful families together.
“I will tell Lord Marlborough what you say,” she replied; “it might influence him.”
She was elated. Sunderland seemed so eager for the alliance with the Churchills that she believed he would do her work for her. How much better if he would persuade dear sentimental Marl of the advantages. Far better to come from him than from her.
“Perhaps you should see my lord Marlborough,” she told Sunderland. “He would be interested to hear what you have to say on this matter. As for myself, I must hurry to the Princess. I see I am overdue.”
Sunderland took his leave of her and she thought how much she would have liked to have been present when he talked to her husband. But she had her duties. Always her duties. Those trivial little tasks for which she was always having to hurry back to the Princess’s bedchamber.
How much more time she would have to do useful things if she could delegate these simple homely tasks to someone whom she could trust. What she wanted was some colourless person whom the Princess would not notice about the apartment; someone who would do what had to be done quietly and efficiently and call no attention to herself.
Abigail Hill!
Why had she not thought of that before? Abigail was just the one she needed. And what advancement for Abigail! From Mother of the Maids to chamber woman in the Princess’s own bedchamber. The girl would be grateful to her kind benefactress to the end of her days. She would want to repay her kindness in the only way she could; and that would be to work for the benefit of Lady Marlborough for the rest of her life.
“Abigail Hill!” said Lady Marlborough aloud. “Why of course. Abigail Hill!”
As Mother of the Maids Abigail had opportunities of seeing her brother and sister. Alice was delighted with her position which brought her two hundred pounds a year—a vast sum—and plenty of entertainment besides.
Abigail soon gathered that, like everyone else in the Duke of Gloucester’s household, she adored him. He was an extraordinary boy with his frail body and active mind, his great interest in military matters, his army of ninety boys whom he drilled and inspected daily, his droll sayings, his ability to foretell events, for, declared Alice, he had assuredly foretold the death of his old nurse Mrs. Pack, and that was years ago, before the death of Queen Mary.
“Often,” said Alice, “the Princess comes to visit him and cousin Sarah is sometimes with her. It is true, you know Abigail, the Princess does adore our cousin; and they say she is ruled by her in all things.”
“How strange that she should be,” mused Abigail. “She … a Princess!”
“Well, our cousin is handsome, bold and clever.”
“Brazen, I should say,” mused Abigail. “I never knew anyone with such effrontery.”
“We at least have to be grateful for it. Remember that.