Part 41 (1/2)
Everything was going well for her. Sometimes she would lie in bed nursing her baby and telling herself that her life was more satisfying than Sarah Churchill's. The fact was that Sarah would never be satisfied.
Samuel had come home from the war-different, more mature. She was not sure that this pleased her. Would he be less willing to be led? But temporarily it was a challenge. He was devoted to her and delighted by their child. They would have a boy, he said, next time.
Her brother Jack, quite a seasoned soldier now, was a friend of his; and she enjoyed seeing them together, particularly when Alice came too.
They were often in her apartments. Alice, of course, had been in attendance at the birth of little Anne. In attendance! Abigail mocked herself. I talk like a Queen.
But of course to be Queen's favourite was next best to being a Queen.
Queen's favourite! Little Abigail Hill-at the beck of and call of Lady Rivers, poor relation in the Churchill nursery-and now she could decide the fate of Sarah Churchill ... and perhaps the country.
People were now beginning to realize her importance. When Alice and Jack came to see the baby she could sense the difference in their att.i.tude towards her. They were in awe of her. As for Samuel, he was frankly proud.
They stood round the child's cradle. Alice-getting even fatter-gurgled her pleasure; Jack was seated, for he had been wounded at the siege of Mons; and Samuel was beside Abigail, his hand on her shoulder.
”Such a little darling!” cooed Alice. ”I'll swear your mamma is planning a grand marriage for you.”
”What, already!” cried Samuel.
Abigail smiled at him. He was sentimental and the thought of losing a daughter so newly acquired even in marriage at some distant date appalled him.
”Oh come, Alice, there's time enough for that,” said Abigail.
”But she'll have a grand future I wouldn't mind swearing,” insisted Alice. She stood up and looked at her sister admiringly. ”You'll see to that. And the Queen won't deny you anything. I heard that said only yesterday.”
”It's not wise to be too sure of anything,” said Abigail sagely.
”And Abigail is the wisest woman in the world,” added Samuel.
Alice wanted to know whether Mrs. Abrahal washed the baby's linen and what the Queen had said about the new tooth; the two men talked together of battles. They moved to a table, sat down, and picking up any small objects they could lay their hands on they used them to indicate their forces, and like a couple of generals fought out Malplaquet.
Watching them, Abigail said: ”Do you remember the day Lady Marlborough called and how alarmed we all were. The first time we saw her ...?”
Alice nodded and her plump complacent expression was clouded. This life of plenty and excitement was far removed from those days.
”She brought us here,” said Alice. ”It's something I try to remind myself of now and then.”
”That she might use us,” retorted Abigail. ”Do you remember how she constantly reminded us of what she did for us?”
”And still does.”
”She does not remind me.”
”Oh, you, Abigail, you have become more important than she is. Abigail, I have heard it said ...”
”Yes?”
”That you rule the Queen just as Sarah Churchill once did.”
”She listens to me.”
”Oh, Abby ... Though it doesn't seem right to call you that now. My own sister. You, Abigail Hill, to be the friend of the Queen!”
”And others ...” murmured Abigail, thinking of Robert Harley. Her eyes went to Samuel-the general at the table. That was all he was capable of. He would never be a Marlborough ... never a Harley. If she and Harley ... But that was a dream long ago abandoned. She must use what she had at her disposal and not reach out for the impossible as Sarah had done.
Alice was smiling at her with something like adoration. She would not forget that the present respect she enjoyed in the royal household was due to her sister.
Abigail savoured that adoration. Alice had sent her thoughts back to the past and she saw now a poorly furnished bedroom where she and Alice had tried on the cast-off dresses of the Churchill girls; she saw herself and her sister studying their reflections-Alice plump and gay, Abigail pale and thin. Then Alice had pitied Abigail, the plain one.
It was a different story now. She had shown them that a pale, plain face was no deterrent. She had an adoring husband; Alice had none; she had the Queen's love; and the admiration of a brilliant statesman.
She felt all powerful and she said on impulse, ”I must see what I can do for Jack. As soon as a Colonelcy falls vacant I shall speak to the Queen on his behalf.”
”Oh ... Abby!”
”Not a word yet. We'll wait, and it'll be a surprise for him.”
”What of Sam?”
”His turn will come,” answered Abigail serenely.
Those were trying weeks for the Queen. She wanted to be rid of her Government but could see no means of const.i.tutionally doing so. It cheered her to know that her people were firmly behind her, but this in itself would not rid her of men whom she so heartily wished to dismiss.
She had not seen Sarah since the last outburst, but Sarah continued to write. It seemed that the woman must give in to her feelings somehow, and she could not rid herself of the desire to direct. The insolence of the woman was almost past belief; as Anne said to Abigail, if she had not the evidence before her eyes such behaviour would seem incredible.
Christmas had pa.s.sed and the unsatisfactory state of affairs still persisted. Sacheverel was still waiting trial; and a great deal would depend on the outcome of that. But the new year, Anne told Abigail, would bring great changes.
They were sitting in the green closet when a messenger brought a package which by the writing on the outside Anne knew to come from Sarah.
She sighed and calling Abigail to her stool, asked her to open the package. This Abigail did and together they read Sarah's long letter of recrimination and advice.
”There is a copy here of Jeremy Taylor's Holy Living and Dying together with a prayer book,” said Abigail.
Anne read Sarah's letter and sighed. How could she ever have cared so deeply for such a woman. Sarah once more told her of her follies and how she should reform. The pa.s.sages marked in the books were meant to convey a lesson to the Queen.
Sarah Churchill for all her vitality, for all her arrogance, thought the Queen, was a fool. She wants to return to her old place and everything she does makes me feel that I never want to see her again.
”What shall I do with the books, Madam?” asked Abigail.
”Put them in a drawer and let us forget them. These are very trying times, Abigail. I should like to get away for a short time to think.”
”Yes, Madam. Have you anywhere in mind?”
”I like the quiet of Hampton.”
”Shall I make preparations at once?”
Anne's fingers rested on the sandy hair. What a comfort! she thought. How different!
Hampton was delightful even in January. The Queen used a small chamber because of the cold, and it was very cosy to sit there with Abigail and talk of pleasant things like the virtues of Prince George and the brilliance of their boy; the future of Samuel Masham and the charms of his daughter Anne.