Courting Her Highness (11 page)

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the King’s crown,” said Alice.

Abigail did not answer; she was thinking of that frail King and the frail boy and marvelling at the strangeness of events.

How strange it would be if she became the servant of the Queen of England!

The display was over; the Duke of Gloucester had dispersed his army and was being conducted by the King into Kensington Palace. They were talking gravely as they went and the watchers even raised a small cheer for the King among the louder ones for young Gloucester.

Gloucester gravely acknowledged their acclaim, which was more than the King did; and all eyes were on the little figure in the dazzling uniform with the blue garter ribbon across his tunic. It was obvious that they would be very willing to accept him as Prince of Wales when the time came; and that would be on the death of William.

The crowd was breaking up and Abigail found that Samuel Masham was at her side. Alice and John had joined some of their friends from the royal household and were chatting and laughing together.

“You look grave,” said Samuel.

“I was thinking how ill the King looks.”

“He has been dying for many years,” Samuel told her.

“I can’t believe he will for many more.”

“There is a mighty spirit behind those sick looks.”

“Yes, but surely even that cannot keep him alive much longer.”

“You are satisfied with your post?” he asked.

“I am very fortunate to have it. Did you know that my cousin is Lady Marlborough?”

He nodded and smiled.

“Well, she decided to place us all … and she did.”

“She would always do everything she set out to.”

“It was very necessary to place us. I discovered this a few days ago. Someone had heard that her relations were in want, and she did not care that people should know that, hence we all have been provided for. One brother in the Custom House—another in the Prince’s household, Alice in that of the Duke of Gloucester and myself now with the Princess.”

“You have the most interesting post of them all.”

“I believe you are right.”

“We shall surely meet now and then; for the Prince and his wife live very amicably together and I am often taking messages to and from their apartments.”

“I hope we shall,” said Abigail; and she was surprised that she meant it.

Samuel Masham was not handsome, not gallant; but he was rather like she was herself.… Quiet, unassuming, eager to please, grateful for his place, determined to hold it through his own modesty rather than effrontery, and a little bewildered that such an important post could have fallen into his humble hands.

He was interested in her and asked her questions about herself; she told him frankly of her father’s bankruptcy and the desperate state of the family until Cousin Sarah came to rescue them.

“It was too late for my parents,” she said; her voice was quiet and he looked for a trace of bitterness and found none. He decided then that Abigail Hill was an extraordinary woman. One would never be entirely sure what she was thinking and she would be completely discreet.

She told him of those months at St. Albans, and although she did not say how humiliating they had been, he understood. Her lips were firmly set and he believed she would make a stand against going back to them.

She did not ask him questions but he told her something of his childhood.

“When you are the youngest of eight sons you cannot hope for very bright prospects,” he told her. “I think I was very lucky to get a post at Court at all.”

“How was it arranged?”

“My father is distantly related to the Princess Anne, because Margaret the Countess Salisbury is our kinswoman. That is why I was given the opportunity. It was pleasant to get away from home.”

“You were unhappy there?”

“Scarcely that. My mother died when I was very young and my father married again. Lady Damaris Masham is very clever. She writes on theology. We are all very proud of her, but it was difficult to live up to her. Then when she had a child of her own, naturally she devoted most of her attention to him.”

“I see,” said Abigail. “So here we are … both arrived at the same place but through very different routes.”

They had been walking sedately through the Park towards the Palace where Abigail must join the Princess’s household and Samuel that of Prince George.

But before they took leave of each other they had promised they would meet again.

Abigail found herself
alone with the Princess Anne and it was rarely that this happened. She was setting the dish of sweetmeats by her couch when she noticed that the silk coverlet had slipped a little and she adjusted it.

For a few seconds the mild shortsighted eyes were concentrated on her as the beautiful white hands—plump and smooth with tapering fingers—grasped the edge of the coverlet.

“Thank you,” said the Princess.

“Your Highness is a little tired today,” ventured Abigail.

“I have been to the display. My boy looked splendid.”

“Your Highness, I … I had the honour to see him. I was there.”

The dull eyes brightened. “So you saw my boy? Did you not think he was magnificent?”

“Your Highness, I have never seen anyone quite like him. So young and in such command! I would not have missed it for a great deal.”

“I don’t think there ever was another boy like him.”

“I am sure Your Highness is right.”

“He is so clever. Sometimes I believe he simply must be older than I have always thought him.” The Princess smiled. “I think I must have made a mistake in his birth.”

Abigail smiled with the Princess.

“He is so very clever.… I must tell you what he said the other day.…”

Abigail had heard it before. It had been told to both cousin Sarah and Mrs. Danvers, besides several of the waiting women; but Abigail was delighted to have the whole of the Princess’s attention to herself and she listened as though she was hearing the story for the first time.

“Can it be really true, Your Highness!”

“Oh yes. I can tell you I would astonish you with my boy’s antics. I wish you could have seen him in his new camlet suit with the jewels glittering in it. I had let him wear my jewels for the occasion. Such a sight! And the Garter ribbon! He blessed us both … the Prince, his father, and myself … and the sweet child told us afterwards that he sincerely meant all that he had said and that it was not the formal greeting a Prince would be expected to give in public to his parents.”

“How proud Your Highness must be!”

“Proud, I can’t tell you … er …”

“Hill,” said Abigail. “Abigail Hill.”

“No, I cannot tell you. But he is a constant anxiety to us both … his father and me. We watch him. You see I have been unfortunate so often and he is so precious. He has been ill often and I can tell you, er …”

“Hill, Your Highness.”

“I can tell you, Hill, I nearly died of grief. And so did the Prince. If anything should happen to that boy …”

“It must not,” said Abigail quietly.

There were tears in the Princess’s eyes and Abigail handed her a kerchief.

“Thank you. So thoughtful,” murmured Anne; but Abigail knew that
she was scarcely aware of her; her mind was at the bedside of her boy during one of his illnesses when she and her husband had experienced all the desolation which would be theirs if they lost this precious boy.

“He is surrounded by care,” said Abigail; “and he is so bright and interested in life.”

“Yes, you are right.”

The Princess was silent, a smile playing about her lips and Abigail had no excuse for remaining.

She said quietly: “Is there anything you need, Your Highness.”

Anne shook her head; she wanted to be alone to dream of her wonderful boy.

Abigail went away so quietly that Anne was unaware of her departure. It was some little time later when she awoke from her reverie and looked about for the woman.

She had discreetly retired, but everything she needed was at hand.

A nice creature, thought Anne. Now what did she say her name was?

Abigail was finding
life full of interest. After that conversation with the Princess, Anne was aware of her. She could not always remember her name, but there was no doubt that she was not displeased by Abigail’s personality.

Her women were a vociferous crowd. They were ostentatiously sycophantish, but they could be careless. Often they forgot to perform some little duty which seemed important to the Princess and she had to ask for what she wanted; she had begun to notice that when Hill was on duty everything she needed was always at her side without her asking.

Once when Sarah had been amusing her and making her laugh with her imitations of some of the ministers, Sarah had made some references to Anne’s husband, the Prince of Denmark, which Anne although she smiled, did not quite like. But that was how it was with Sarah. No one was spared.

But it rankled a little, and after Sarah had left it was pleasant to talk to that quiet Hill about the virtues of the Prince.

Hill said that she had a friend who was a page in the Prince’s household
and she had already heard from him of the wonderful kindness and extraordinary good qualities of the Prince.

Anne was pleased. Who was he? She would tell the Prince what a good and loyal servant he had.

“His name is Samuel Masham, Your Highness.”

“Is it then? You must remind me of that, Hill. For I shall never remember.”

Anne felt sleepy as she always did when talking to Abigail Hill. Abigail was so quiet and so restful. Just the kind of woman she liked to have about her after one of Sarah’s stormy visits. Of course she loved dear Mrs. Freeman as she would never love another woman; more than she loved dear George who was the kindest of husbands; Sarah came second only to her beloved boy; but it was pleasant to let the placid Hill soothe her now and then.

She dropped off to sleep when Abigail was talking.

Abigail stood looking at her and then tiptoed from the room.

She told Samuel Masham about this relationship with the Princess. He was very interested; in fact he was interested in anything that concerned Abigail, and Samuel interested Abigail; he was so like herself. He knew a great deal about what was going on and no one would have guessed it.

They often walked together in the Park or along the river. Abigail was glad that they were so inconspicuous in their dress and insignificant in their persons because this gave them an opportunity to do what other more notorious people never could. They could even walk through the streets of the city without attracting much attention, as few people attached to the Court could hope to do. They were once among a crowd and saw a pickpocket caught in the act and dragged to a nearby sewer to be ducked there. Ducking was a common enough event. Prostitutes were ducked if they lived in a respectable street and annoyed their neighbours; nagging wives were ducked; complacent husbands were treated to a serenade on iron pots and pans and old tin kettles; bailiffs, the enemies of all, if caught unaware, were taken to a trough and made to drink against their will until they were reduced to a state of great discomfort. Mob law ruled in the streets; and it was astonishing how self-righteous the people were in judging the sins of others. This way of life, which Abigail and Samuel were
able to witness, was unknown to people such as Sarah Churchill whose lives were bounded by the Court and their own country houses.

Samuel and Abigail had been watching the fate of a quack doctor whose pills had failed to achieve what he had claimed for them; he was divested of his garments and tipped into a ditch and his clothes thrown in after him; and as they wandered away Samuel remarked on the great love in human nature to rule.

“Did you see their faces?” he asked. “Each one of those people enjoyed playing judge to that poor quack. There is very little difference in these people and those in high places.”

Abigail nodded. She and Samuel were in such accord that words between them were not always necessary.

“I heard,” went on Samuel, “that the Marlboroughs’ daughter Anne has been secretly married to the Earl of Sunderland’s son, Charles Spencer.”