Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [55]
Anne yawned.
In the ante room Abigail was smiling at Samuel Masham.
“If you will forgive me the liberty,” he was saying, “I should like to say how well you are looking.”
“I am well. And you?”
He nodded and his eyes were brighter than usual. “It is pleasant without Madam Virago at Court.”
Abigail opened her pale green eyes very wide and looked astonished.
“I am sure you suffer at her hands more than most,” went on Samuel. “The Court seems quiet and peaceful. She will soon be back though. As soon as the Earl sails she will return.”
Abigail lowered her eyes. She agreed with Samuel but she was not certain whether it was wise to speak of Lady Marlborough disparagingly here in the royal apartments. And she was determined to be discreet. It was true that Sarah Churchill was the most indiscreet woman in the country and she had not appeared to suffer for it, but Abigail was well aware that she could never follow in Sarah’s footsteps; she would have to go an entirely different way.
“I am sure,” she said discreetly, “that Lady Marlborough will lose no time in returning to her duties.”
Samuel too was discreet; and he would take his cue from Abigail, so he changed the subject. “I heard Her Majesty speak of you to the Prince the other day. She said that she was beginning to wonder what she would do without you.”
Abigail was excited. If Anne spoke of her when she was not present then she must have made a deep impression on the royal mind.
Samuel brought his head close to hers. “Of course,” he said, “more and more will depend on the good graces of The Lady. They are saying that the Triumvirate with the Queen behind it, will be all powerful. The Queen behind it! It is The Lady who is behind it. Marlborough, her husband! Godolphin, her daughter’s father-in-law! Harley their man! And the Queen completely in the hands of The Lady. Those of us who fail to please Madam will not long retain our posts.”
“We shall have to be watchful to please,” murmured Abigail.
“Hill!” called the Queen.
Abigail came into the apartment where George had slumped forward in his chair and was breathing heavily. He had clearly fallen into a doze.
“Hill, I wish for some music on the harpsichord.”
“Certainly, Madam.”
Abigail sat down and played. Anne beat time with her fingers.
“Hill, one of the dogs wants to come up. Which one, I cannot see.”
Abigail lifted the dog and set it on the Queen’s lap. Anne stroked it lovingly. “There, there! Listen to Hill’s playing. Is it not pleasant? Such a clever little thing! Go back to the harpsichord and play something lively.”
Abigail obeyed and the Queen sat smiling at the straight little figure with the limp ginger hair dressed high in the fashion, at the straight back in the neat grey gown.
Such a pleasant creature, she thought. Also so eager to please … as though it gives her pleasure to serve. Never strident. Always quiet. Oh dear, how I do miss my dearest Mrs. Freeman!
George began to snore and she leaned forward and tapped him with the fan which lay on her lap.
“Eh? Vat?” cried George.
“You had fallen asleep, dearest. Listen to Hill’s playing. Such a good, clever creature.”
“Very nice … Very nice,” murmured George sleepily.
“A little music is very pleasant now and then. I cannot be grateful enough to my dear Mrs. Freeman for bringing me this good kind creature.”
George scowled. He was not very pleased with the Freemans. He had had dreams of commanding the Navy or the Army and the Earl of Marlborough had been one of those who had put a stop to that ambition.
“It is gut she’s away,” he grumbled. “She make too much noise.”
Anne laughed. “Oh, that is Mrs. Freeman’s way.”
“Don’t much like,” murmured George. “Nice, peaceful …” He waved a fat hand.
“Well, George, there is something to be said for peace in one’s apartment, I do agree.”
Abigail’s fingers faltered because her mind was so