Free Courting Her Highness by Jean Plaidy Page A

the Princess about her newly married daughter Henrietta and that Anne would soon be of an age to marry. The Princess nodded and cooed and now and then spoke of “my boy” in such an affectionate way that Abigail thought how human she was, and how much less terrifying than Lady Marlborough. One would have thought that Sarah was the Queen and Anne the subject.
    When she had sealed the letter she laid it on the table.
    “Just make yourself useful,” said Sarah. “Mrs. Danvers will tell you anything you want to know. She has been with the Princess for years. But if there is anything you think she should need, you should ask
me
if she should have it. The great point is to remember not to disturb the Princess. She does not want to see you nor hear you.”
    “Dear Mrs. Freeman,” murmured Anne, “what should I do without you?”

    Sarah congratulated herself on a shrewd move when she put Abigail into the Princess’s bedchamber. Abigail would be recognized as one of Sarah’s women and it would be known that she would look out for her benefactress’s interests. Moreover, Abigail was efficient; that had beenmade obvious at St. Albans. And what was more important she was no pusher. She would keep her place and not attempt to curry favour with the Princess as some of the others did. She was so colourless (apart, thought Sarah with a snort of amusement, from her nose) and so quiet that one scarcely noticed she was there.
    Sarah had tested this by asking the Princess what she thought of the new chamber woman.
    “Oh,” Anne had replied, “is there one?”
    “My dear Mrs. Morley, don’t you remember I presented her to you?”
    “You have done me so many favours, Mrs. Freeman. Can you expect me to remember them all?”
    “All that I hope is that she is not making herself offensive as some of these bold and brazen pieces do.”
    “I am sure she has not, for I did not know that she was there.”
    “And you have found nothing amiss? All that you have needed has been done?”
    “My dear, dear Mrs. Freeman, I am so well tended … thanks to you. Oh yes, I know it is you I have to thank for the smooth running of my household.”
    Nothing could have pleased Sarah better.
    Abigail was pleased too. She took her orders from Mrs. Danvers, went about the apartment silent-footed and efficient, and she knew that although she was often in the presence of the Princess, perhaps because the latter was shortsighted, perhaps because Abigail was just another woman to her, she was not aware of her as an individual, although any personal service was always rewarded with a kindly smile.
    But it was a pleasant life. The fact of being near the Court greatly appealed to Abigail. She listened to all that was said; she enjoyed hearing stories of the Court of King Charles II and the drama which had followed close on his death. There were many who remembered well how Monmouth had collected an army and calling himself King Monmouth—or perhaps others had called him that?—had attempted to take the crown from James. She heard how William had sailed to England from Holland because he had been invited to take the crown; and how Mary his wife had followed him and the two sisters Mary and Anne had, it was said, broken their father’s heart.
    And this Princess whom she served was that same woman who had defied her father and helped to send him into exile, who had circulated stories about her own half brother not being her father’s child at all, but a spurious baby who had been introduced into her stepmother’s bed by means of a warming pan.
    Abigail felt that she were living close to history; it could be said that people like the plump, lazy-looking woman whom she served made history. Perhaps her own cousin, Sarah Churchill, did, for she would tell Anne what to do if ever Anne became Queen and it seemed likely that she would. Why not Abigail Hill?
    Life had become suddenly more exciting than she had ever dreamed possible. She even had a notion that she