She was elated. Sunderland seemed so eager for the alliance with the Churchills that she believed he would do her work for her. How much better if he would persuade dear sentimental Marl of the advantages. Far better to come from him than from her.
“Perhaps you should see my lord Marlborough,” she told Sunderland. “He would be interested to hear what you have to say on this matter. As for myself, I must hurry to the Princess. I see I am overdue.”
Sunderland took his leave of her and she thought how much she would have liked to have been present when he talked to her husband. But she had her duties. Always her duties. Those trivial little tasks for which she was always having to hurry back to the Princess’s bedchamber.
How much more time she would have to do useful things if she could delegate these simple homely tasks to someone whom she could trust. What she wanted was some colourless person whom the Princess would not notice about the apartment; someone who would do what had to be done quietly and efficiently and call no attention to herself.
Abigail Hill!
Why had she not thought of that before? Abigail was just the one she needed. And what advancement for Abigail! From Mother of the Maids to chamber woman in the Princess’s own bedchamber. The girl would be grateful to her kind benefactress to the end of her days. She would want to repay her kindness in the only way she could; and that would be to work for the benefit of Lady Marlborough for the rest of her life.
“Abigail Hill!” said Lady Marlborough aloud. “Why of course. Abigail Hill!”
As Mother of the Maids Abigail had opportunities of seeing her brother and sister. Alice was delighted with her position which brought her two hundred pounds a year—a vast sum—and plenty of entertainment besides.
Abigail soon gathered that, like everyone else in the Duke of Gloucester’s household, she adored him. He was an extraordinary boy with his frail body and active mind, his great interest in military matters, his army of ninety boys whom he drilled and inspected daily, his droll sayings, his ability to foretell events, for, declared Alice, he had assuredly foretold the death of his old nurse Mrs. Pack, and that was years ago, before the death of Queen Mary.
“Often,” said Alice, “the Princess comes to visit him and cousin Sarah is sometimes with her. It is true, you know Abigail, the Princess does adore our cousin; and they say she is ruled by her in all things.”
“How strange that she should be,” mused Abigail. “She … a Princess!”
“Well, our cousin is handsome, bold and clever.”
“Brazen, I should say,” mused Abigail. “I never knew anyone with such effrontery.”
“We at least have to be grateful for it. Remember that.”
“Have no fear, Alice. We shall never be allowed to forget.”
“Do you know, Abby, I feel proud to be connected with her.”
Abigail nodded and said nothing.
When she saw her brother John he talked excitedly about the household of the Prince of Denmark.
“He’s kind,” was John’s verdict, “and always on the point of falling asleep. Someone said of him that it is only the fact that he breathes which makes you know he’s alive—in all else he is dead. It’s true he says little; but you should see him eat—and drink. And his answer to everything is ‘Est il possible?’ In the household they call him Old Est il Possible? But he is rarely annoyed and everyone likes working for him as they do for the Princess.”
“Is he often with the Princess?”
“Yes. But when he visits her he falls asleep. Then she talks to our cousin who is always in attendance.”
It was remarkable how the conversation always came back to Sarah.
“How does he feel about cousin Sarah? He must be put out by her influence over his wife.”
“He is never put out. He has the sweetest temper in the world. Besides, the Princess dotes on our cousin and for that reason he too is fond of Cousin Sarah.”
Abigail considered this and believed she would never understand how one who was as overbearing and took no pains to be pleasant should be so admired.
But when she was face to face with her cousin she was conscious of Sarah’s power. This happened one day when a message was brought to her that Lady Marlborough wished to speak to her without delay.
Abigail went at once to Sarah’s apartment which was connected with the Princess’s by a staircase; and there Sarah was impatiently waiting her.
“Ah, Abigail Hill.”
Yes, she was magnificent; her handsome looks, her vitality, her strident voice; her laughter sudden and coarse; her presence commanding.
“You sent for me, Lady Marlborough?”
Sarah nodded. “I have good news for you. You have done well at your post and I am going to see that you are rewarded.”
“Your ladyship is good to me.” Abigail gave no indication of her apprehension. What would be her reward? Not to return to St. Albans!
“I know that I can trust you. I am going to put you closer to the Princess.”
“I … I see.” Abigail’s face had become faintly pink; it would show, she was aware, in her nose and she would look even more unattractive than usual.
“Yes,” went on Sarah, “I know that you are well aware how to be discreet. You will be a chambermaid and you will do small tasks for the Princess … fetching and carrying when necessary. It is a pleasant post; in fact it is close to my own. You will not only be near the Princess but near me.”
“I don’t know how to thank you, Lady Marlborough.”
“You will please me if you do your work well. The Princess needs you to bring what she wants without her asking. You must anticipate her needs. See that her dish of sweetmeats is replenished, that her cards are always at hand and that none is lost and that they are replaced when necessary; you will see that her clothes are in order, that when she needs gloves you have them. At the same time you must behave as though you are not there. Her Highness would not wish you to intrude. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Lady Marlborough.”
“I am glad. You will take over tasks which I once performed and for which I now have not the time. Your duty in fact is to let it seem that I am there when I am not. Speak only to the Princess when spoken to. I doubt she will speak to you. You will discover what is needed of you as time goes on. I am going to take you to Her Highness now and explain that you will be there to perform the more menial tasks of the bedchamber. Don’t forget. Don’t speak unless you are spoken to. You will have to remember that you are in the presence of Royalty. Do you think you can?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Very good. Then come with me.”
Sarah swept imperiously into the Princess’s apartments where Anne was at her table writing a letter.
“My dear, dear Mrs. Freeman,” she said, looking up and smiling. She peered past Abigail as though she were not there. “How pleasant it is to see you. You can seal this letter for me.”
“Abigail Hill will do it, Mrs. Morley. I have brought her along that she may be of use to you.”
“Abigail Hill,” murmured the Princess.
“The poor relation I told you about. She is the one who is going to have the bedchamber post. You’ll find her a good modest creature.”
“I am so glad, dear Mrs. Freeman.”
“I have schooled her thoroughly so you will not have any trouble there. She will seal your letters. She will make herself useful without disturbing you in the least. That is what I have trained her to do.”
“How good of you, my dear.”
“As Mrs. Morley knows, she can always rely on Mrs. Freeman to look to her comfort.”
“I know, I know.”
Sarah signed to Abigail to seal the letter. Abigail’s fingers felt wooden; then she realized that neither Sarah nor the Princess were aware of her. How strange, thought Abigail, the letter was addressed to the King. She, homely Abigail Hill, was sealing a letter from the Princess to the King; and what was said in that letter could possibly have a bearing on history. She had never felt quite so important in the whole of her life as she did at that moment.