“See that it is delivered into none but her hands,” she said.
“Lady Marlborough’s, Your Majesty?”
Anne nodded. Lady Marlborough soon to be the Duchess.
Sarah read the letter with elation. Duchess of Marlborough—Marl a Duke. It was wonderful. But … there was no talk of the estates and money they would need to uphold their elevated position. Did not old Morley understand that? There should have been an offer of at least five thousand a year to go with the Dukedom.
She went thoughtfully to the Queen. When she entered Anne looked up hopefully, expecting floods of gratitude. Instead she faced a very subdued Sarah.
“Mrs. Freeman cannot have received my letter.”
“Oh yes. I have received it.”
“You seem … displeased.”
“When I read Mrs. Morley’s letter,” said Sarah slowly, “I let it drop from my hand and for a time I felt as though I had received the news of a death of a dear friend.”
“Mrs. Freeman, I do not understand.”
“My dearest Morley I know wishes to please me. And believe me when honour is paid to Mr. Freeman nothing could please me more. But we have not the wealth to sustain a Dukedom. There. I am a simple woman and I give a simple answer. I do not couch my thoughts in flowery sentiments. So I give you the plain truth. A Dukedom is not for us, Mrs. Morley, because we simply have not wealth for such a title. And I will say this—it is but a matter of precedence—and that bothers me little. I do not care so much that I pass through one door and others of lesser rank through another, I know my good Mrs. Morley thought to please me. But it is difficult for one such as Your Majesty to understand the financial difficulties of others.”
Anne looked as though she would burst into tears.
But Sarah having made her point, asked leave to retire.
Sarah was furious. Anne had of course immediately sought some means of providing an income for the Churchills which would enable them to accept the Dukedom and proposed an annual grant of five thousand pounds which would be taken from Post Office revenues. This she declared was necessary in view of Marlborough’s new title, and as his son would inherit that title in due course the income must be granted to the new Duke’s heirs.
The Government revolted. Marlborough’s services to the nation were appreciated but bestowing hereditary grants on individuals was frowned on; and to avoid an adverse vote Marlborough, now home once more, could only decline the offer of revenue from that source.
Sarah raged and ranted, but John tried in vain to soothe her.
“They are so ungrateful!” she cried. “When I think of all you have done for them. And now for a miserable five thousand …”
She went to the Queen.
“You see, Mrs. Morley, how wise I was to refuse the Dukedom in the first place. I know Mr. Freeman has no wish to accept so called honours when they are so grudgingly given. If he had taken my advice he would never have accepted the title. But now it is done … and here he is—the man who brought honour to his country, a Duke without the means to keep up his rank. A pretty state of affairs! A pretty example of a country’s ingratitude! I said to Mr. Freeman: It is folly to take this from a country who so clearly does not wish to honour you … rather to humiliate you.”
“My dear, dear Mrs. Freeman, this is most distressing. You shall have two thousand from my privy purse. No one shall know of it. It shall be a secret between us.…”
“Mrs. Morley should know that Mrs. Freeman could not easily be persuaded to enter into secret bargains.…”
She could not be comforted, and when she left the Queen was trembling and in tears.
Abigail came to her and bathed her forehead.
“There, Madam.” Anne accepted the brandy. “Would Your Majesty wish me to play a little on the harpsichord?”
“No, Hill. Just sit beside me. Your presence comforts me.”
Abigail took the trembling hand in hers and the Queen smiled at her.
“It seems peaceful now, Hill. Let us talk for a while and later perhaps when I am sleepy you will play me to sleep.”
Sarah stormed back to Marlborough.
“She is ready to pay us two thousand from the privy purse,” she said. “What’s the use of that?”
John shook his head. “We couldn’t take it, Sarah. It could be embarrassing if it leaked out that we were being supplied in this way. But there is something else. I’ve a letter here from Sidney Godolphin. He writes from Newmarket.”
“Newmarket. I should have thought he might have been in London. Here is the Government treating you in this churlish way and he is at Newmarket if you please.”
“Our John is with him.”
“Our John! But why is he not at Cambridge?”
“There’s smallpox in Cambridge.”
Sarah turned pale. “John?”
“He’s all right. Sidney thought it better for him to leave Cambridge and go to stay at Newmarket. The air there is fresh and good. But I was a little uneasy.”
Smallpox! The dreaded scourge. Sarah could not bear to think of it having come near her only son.
“Perhaps he should come home,” she said.
“Sidney says he’s very well. I thought you might write to him and tell him that you are no longer displeased with him.”
“But I am still displeased with him.”
“He wrote to me asking me to plead with you on his behalf.”
“Then he should have written to me himself.”
“Sarah!” Marlborough laid his hand on her arm and gave her that sweet smile which never failed to charm. “I know you love him dearly—as you do the whole family, but could you not show it a little now and then?”
“Are you telling me how to treat my son, John Churchill!”
“Our son,” he reminded her.
She laughed. “We’ll have him home. I do not care that he should be near a pox-laden atmosphere.”
“Write to him and tell him he is forgiven.”
“No. He must write to me first. And what of this matter of our income …”
He laid his hands on her shoulders and drew her towards him.
“That is a matter which will, I doubt not, in time work out to our advantage … my Duchess.”
Anne was determined that her dear Mrs. Freeman should happily accept the new honour and Sarah had no intention of standing in her way. It was certainly gratifying to be Her Grace, and she derived great pleasure from referring to Marl as The Duke.
With the coming of spring he would set out once more on his campaigns and the separations would begin again. “How I wish that you had chosen to become a statesman instead of a soldier!” she would exclaim angrily.
Christmas was just over and young John had written to his father to tell him that he was leaving the Godolphins to return to Cambridge.
“I trust,” said Sarah grimly, “that there he will learn some sense.”
It was in January when she had news from Cambridge.
When she read the letter which was from her son’s tutor she was silent, and those watching her saw the colour drain from her face.
Then she cried: “I am going to Cambridge. At once.”
She stared at her maid who, accustomed to her mistress’s sudden outbursts, was aware that there was something of great importance behind this one.
“My son,” she said slowly, “has the smallpox. My only son,” she repeated.
Abigail was with Anne when she heard the news.
“My poor, poor Mrs. Freeman. So she has gone with all speed to Cambridge. We must pray for her, Hill. If she should lose this beloved child, how she will suffer! I know, Hill. I know full well. I could not bear to think of what poor Mrs. Freeman will have to suffer if the blow which struck her unfortunate Morley should strike her.”
“Your Majesty is so good to concern yourself.”