Plaidy, Jean - Royal Sisters - The Story of the Daughters of James II

She was silent one day as she sat with the Princess and, although absorbed as she was with her own concerns, Anne remarked on this—for it was unlike Sarah not to talk incessantly.

“Oh, Madam,” said Sarah distantly, “my lot in your service is not always a comfortable one.”

Anne was alarmed. “My dearest Sarah, what do you mean?”

“Oh … it is the Clarendon creature. What airs she gives herself. I know she is your aunt—but your mother’s family were remarkably fortunate to be linked with royalty. She gives herself airs. And all because she is a Countess and I am plain Mrs. Churchill.”

“It seems wrong that that should be,” said Anne thoughtfully.

Sarah gave her a sharp look. Would she draw herself from her lethargy sufficiently long to remember?

Anne’s father came to visit her at the Cockpit. James had once been handsome, but the events of the last years had been a strain on him and he looked drawn and sallow. He was tall, but not as tall as his brother and although more handsome than Charles, although possessed of a certain dignity of manner, he was singularly lacking in charm.

But as his eyes fell on his daughter his face was lighted by a great affection and he seemed almost young.

“My dearest,” he said, “how are you?”

“Very well, dear father,” Anne told him. “All goes well, they tell me, and I may expect a fine boy.”

“Do not set your hopes on that, my love. Be content with a daughter if a daughter it should be. You have so quickly conceived that I am sure you will have a large family.”

“It is what George and I want more than anything.”

He kissed her gently on the forehead. “It pleases me to see you so happy. Would I could feel as contented for Mary.” His face hardened. “I never wanted that marriage. I feel we have brought a viper into our close family circle.”

“Sarah calls him Caliban. I am sure he is a monster. I cannot understand how dear Mary tolerates him. I am sure I never would.”

“I fear he is subduing her, making her his creature … perhaps trying to turn her against us all. He’ll never do that. I know my Mary.” He smiled sentimentally at Anne. “I thank God for giving me my dearest daughters. So many children I have had and lost; but I always remind myself that I was allowed to keep two. My dearest Mary; my blessed Anne. We shall always love and cherish each other as long as we shall live.”

“Yes, dear father,” said Anne, wondering what there would be for dinner.

“And although I am parted from Mary, I know that she continues to love me dearly. It is a secret, daughter, but I do not wish to have secrets from you. Do not mention this to anyone. But if it were in my power to break that Dutch marriage I would do so. And I believe it might be in my power. There is just cause. Mary is childless and he … the Dutchman … spends his night with another woman.”

“Fitzharding’s sister, Elizabeth Villiers. It is a well-known scandal.”

“A well-known scandal—and my daughter the wife of such a monster! Unfortunately, my dear, your uncle will not have the marriage disturbed. But …”

Anne nodded sleepily. Her father very frequently spent his nights in the beds of his mistresses. Uncle Charles was not looking so well of late; but each night he took one of his mistresses to bed; and it was said that he would not accept his flagging vigor and resorted to artificial means to revive it. Fair enough, whispered his courtiers. Who would not do the like? But what effect was this having on the royal body; and how long could it be expected to stand the strain?

“Well,” said James, “that is not for us to discuss now. And my dear daughter is well and everything is progressing as it should. I can scarcely wait for the good news. I shall be near you, dearest, all the time; and if there is anything you want, all you need do is ask for it. You know your father is never happier than when he is pleasing you.”

All she need do was ask? It was true. He was the most indulgent of parents.

“Father,” she said, “there is one thing I would ask.”

His face lit up with pleasure, “My darling daughter, I promise if it is in my power …”

“It is not for me, Father, but I have a great friend who has not been as well treated as she should be. I believe you are very pleased with the services Colonel Churchill has rendered you?”

“He is a good man, and I believe a faithful friend to me.”

“You need good men and faithful friends, father. Do you think that sometimes we take the goodness of those close to us for granted?”

“It may be so.”

“My best friend and the kindest of my women is plain Mrs. while others who are less kind flaunt great titles. It is our duty, is it not, Father, to reward those who serve us?”

He nodded.

“Why, my blessed one, you are asking that the Churchills be honored in some way?”

“A title for the Colonel, so that Sarah may be Lady Churchill to these women of mine and not plain Mrs.”

James patted her hand. “That does not seem to me to be an insurmountable difficulty,” he said fondly.

Sarah embraced her John. Then she held him at arms’ length.

“Well, Baron Churchill?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Have you a clever wife?”

“The cleverest in the world.”

“John, I only had to ask.”

“She thinks the world of you, as indeed she should.”

Sarah’s eyes were dreamy as she looked into the future. “I can see that she will do anything … just anything … I ask of her. She is in my power … absolutely.”

“Careful, my love.”

She was almost haughty for a moment. “You need not advise me, John Churchill.”

He retreated at once. “I know it well.”

She softened and put her arms about his neck. He was so handsome, so charming, and he had forsaken his rake’s life for her. She saw greatness in him and she was going to build that greatness. He was beginning to understand that now.

They stood looking at each other. This was a partnership. They needed rank, and they had taken the first step toward that, although a barony was not going to be good enough for the Churchills; they wanted wealth (at the moment they were poor, but Sarah would know how to remedy that) and what was more precious than anything to Sarah: Power.

Sarah was as near to loving him as she could love anyone; she saw in him a reflection of herself. He was hers to make and to mold; and she believed she had chosen the finest man in the world on whom to bestow her greatness. She was impatient with a fate which had made her a woman. Had she been a man, she was certain there was no heights to which she would not have arisen; as it was, she would work with John. Together they would stand.

Lord and Lady Churchill—this was the first step.

No wonder they were delighted with each other.

In the Cockpit Lady Churchill was more arrogant than ever; she was, she said, of the frankest nature on earth; but woebetide anyone who tried to be equally frank with her.

With the Princess she was gentle and affectionate—but only to her.

As for Anne, she loved Lady Churchill even more than she had Mrs. Churchill, for it was very comforting to have given so much pleasure to a dear friend.