Part 19 (2/2)
”I fear this has been a little trial to you, my dearest,” she said.
”Bed vill be goot.” George's p.r.o.nunciation grew more broad when he was tired.
”The journey was too much for you, my love. I was saying to Mrs. Freeman I was uneasy about your making it.”
”Oh ... that journey. Never shall I forget. How glad I am, I said to Masham, how glad the Queen does not come. The roads ... my dear love ... the roads ...”
”The storm of course has devastated everything. It was really not necessary for you to go. I would rather have gone myself.”
”That, my angel, I vould never allow.”
Dear George-only stern when he felt the need to protect her!
”It iss forty miles from Vindsor to Petvorth, they tell me. Fourteen hours it took, my angel, and no stop ve made safe vhen the coach was turned over and ve vas stuck in the mud.”
”My poor, poor George. And how was your wheeze then?”
”My veeze vas terrible, my love, vas very terrible.”
”My poor, poor George.”
”And ve should be there now, but for the men who lift up the coach vith bare hands, my angel, vith their bare hands ... and they carry the coach and set it on the road.”
”That was wonderful, George. What good and faithful servants! You must present them to me and I will tell them how grateful I am. I was so anxious. I said continuously to Mrs. Freeman how I wished you had not gone.”
”But I vould not haf allowed my angel to go.”
”Nor should I have allowed mine.”
”Vell, ve are safe now ... and tired ... and let us to bed. But a little brandy vould be varming.”
”A little brandy. I will call Hill. Hill! Hill!”
She came at once. She could not have been far away. How pleasant she looked-how simple after all the brilliant costumes of the evening!
”His Highness fancies a little brandy, Hill. I will take some, too. Such a tiring day ... and another before us tomorrow. It will help us sleep.”
”Yes, Your Majesty.”
And almost at once-how was she so quiet and so quick?-there she was.
So pleasant ... sipping brandy with George dozing in the chair and Hill hovering in case she should be wanted.
”Hill, tell Masham His Highness is ready for bed.”
”Yes, Your Majesty.”
”I too, Hill. Oh, what a tiring day!”
Samuel Masham went with the Prince into George's dressing room and Abigail remained with the Queen.
”Such a day, Hill! What ceremonies! And this young Archduke-King as he is now. I hope he is allowed to remain so, poor boy. But I daresay Mr. Freeman will see to that. I thought Mrs. Freeman looked magnificent. And so delighted to have Mr. Freeman back. But I am worried about the Prince, Hill. He does not look well to me and that journey to Petworth must have been an ordeal. His coach stuck in the mud ... overturned, if you please. And the boors had to lift it out. I really cannot think it has done His Highness any good at all. I wish you would speak to Masham, Hill. I want the greatest care taken of His Highness. Make sure that his underwear is of the warmest and he should not be in draughts.”
”Your Majesty can trust me to speak to Masham.”
”I know, Hill. I know. And now to bed ... I am so tired. And tomorrow of course there will be more and more ceremonies....”
More and more ceremonies, thought Abigail, with the d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough at the Queen's right hand, forcing herself forward, already recognized as the power behind the throne, as no King's mistress had ever been more so. And Abigail Hill-confined to the bedchamber, but only for the term of Her Grace's pleasure.
The Archduke Charles was considerably refreshed next day when he joined the Queen in preparation for the ceremonies. Dinner must be taken in public, to be followed by a concert-instrumental and vocal-and after that there would be more music and, of course, cards.
Charles looked even more handsome than he had the previous night, as dressed in his crimson coat he greeted the Queen and her attendants.
Anne found it difficult to suppress her yawns as the day went on. Dinner at three and then the long afternoon of entertainment before supper. Oh for an hour or so in the green closet! She saw that George felt as she did and was thinking longingly of that comfort.
Sarah of course felt no such desire. What energy! What vitality! Dear Mrs. Freeman makes me feel tired merely to look at her. But how handsome! How admired! And no wonder.
Charles was paying attention to her. Like everyone else he knew her importance. And how she enjoyed it! Such occasions were perfection to her. We are really quite different! thought Anne.
How glad she was that the supper was now over and there was dear Mrs. Freeman ready to perform her duty, standing before her with the bowl in which she would wash her hands and the towel across her arm.
But Charles had risen and was attempting to take the towel from Sarah's arm.
Sarah said: ”It was my duty and my honour to do this service for Her Majesty.”
Charles replied: ”But at this time you will let me have that honour?”
He took the towel from Sarah and dipping it in the water, lifted one of Anne's hands and washed it; and when he had done this he washed his own, while Sarah stood holding the bowl, with all eyes upon her; and then Charles took off a diamond ring and taking Sarah's hand slipped it on her finger.
Sarah's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. This was an acknowledgment of her importance.
In their apartments Sarah held out her hand with the flas.h.i.+ng diamond in it.
”Worth a fortune,” she said.
John took the hand and kissed it.
”You know why he did it?” he said.
”Because he knows that if he wishes for England's support he has to have mine.”
”Spoken like my Sarah.”
”And how else should I speak, pray?”
”In no other way, for I would not have my Sarah different in any small detail.”
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