Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [97]
Anne was pleased to see her; whenever Sarah put in an appearance she always forgot the alarming thoughts which had beset her previously, for such was the power of Sarah’s personality that when she was there Anne still believed that she was the one person in the whole world for whose society she longed more than any other.
“So, Mrs. Morley,” she was saying, “I shall get my Mary married at last.”
“She is so young yet, dear Mrs. Freeman.”
“She is old enough for marriage, that one. I can tell you she has led me a pretty dance. Who would have daughters?” Sarah did not notice how her companion winced, nor did she give a thought to the many miscarriages which had become a pattern of the royal existence. So many disappointments that Anne was losing all hope; but that did not mean she wanted continual references to those who were more fortunate than herself. Didn’t her sad mode of signing letters as “your poor unfortunate Morley” explain her feelings? But Sarah was heedless of the thoughts of others. She was without tact, a failing which she called honesty; but that which she saw as honesty in herself she would call rudeness in others. Sarah cared for no opinion but her own—not even the Queen’s. In Sarah’s opinion Sarah was always right and that applied even when people like Godolphin or even Marlborough himself contradicted her.
Sarah swept on: “The sooner the marriage takes place the better. It’s an excellent match. Both her father and I will be pleased to welcome Lord Monthermer as a son-in-law. He’ll be the Earl of Montague in due course and the marriage is as good as those of her sisters.”
“She is only a child.”
“You deceive yourself, Mrs. Morley. Mary’s no child. She has already found a bridegroom for herself … a most unsuitable one, I can tell you. Of course I soon put an end to that bit of nonsense.”
“Poor Mary! I suppose she was in love.”
“In love! My dear Mrs. Morley! In love with a man who had nothing but a poor estate! A fine thing for Marlborough’s daughter.”
Anne continued to look sad. Sentimental fool! thought Sarah. Why do I have to waste my time with her! What does she ever think of but the cards … and food! Of course she must give Mary a dowry like the others. Marl will be horrified if he has to provide the lot.
“This is most satisfactory and I shall be glad to see the girl settled. I hope your Majesty approves of the match.”
“If Mr. and Mrs. Freeman approve so do I. You must allow me to give her a dowry.”
“You are the most generous friend in the world, Mrs. Morley.”
“My dearest Mrs. Freeman, you are the best friend in the world to allow your poor unfortunate Morley to take a share in your children’s marriages, since she can have no hope of such personal happiness.”
“You are so good to Mrs. Freeman.”
How much? wondered Sarah. Five thousand like the rest?
Sarah also had another reason for being at Court. Her first grandchild was to be christened and she hoped the Queen would be his godmother.
Anne wept with joy at the prospect.
“The next best thing my dear Mrs. Freeman to being a grandmother is to be a godmother.”
“I had hoped you would think so. Godolphin and Sunderland will be the child’s godfathers.”
The Queen nodded. She had never liked Sunderland who had voted against dear George’s allowance being increased, and that was something for which she would never forgive him; and since she had become so friendly with dear Mr. Harley she was beginning to find Lord Godolphin rather tiresome.
“We’re going to call him William,” said Sarah. “His mother has already given him the name of Willigo.”
“Willigo for William. He’s named after my boy. It’s so charming,” said Anne. “I long to see the dear little creature.”
So cosy! she thought. It was like the old days when they had talked about their children, when her dear boy had been alive and Sarah’s son too. Poor Mrs. Freeman, she had lost a beloved son, the same as the Queen had; it made such a bond between them; but Sarah was the more fortunate. She had her daughters and now her darling grandchild. Little Willigo!
The door opened