Free Exit Lady Masham by Louis Auchincloss

King James used his power stupidly. But he had it to misuse; that's my point. His daughter isn't going to make that mistake. In fact, she isn't going to make any mistakes. She bides her time. Bide along with your wife-to-be, Sam, and you may yet see great things."
    "Great things for whom?"
    "Great things for all of us."
    "Give me one instance."
    "Come, doubting Thomas, you must learn some faith! But, anyway, how else can you play your hand? The Queen wants the marriage; it would be folly to refuse her. If you perform it in a sullen fashion, you will lose all credit with her. Therefore be cheerful! Act as though it were the highest honor in the land to marry a woman of her bedchamber, and..."
    "And?"
    "And who knows? You may yet be a peer."
    Masham turned and bowed to me. "Greetings, Lady Masham!" he exclaimed mockingly.
    But at least he was smiling now; I was to wed, it seemed, an easygoing man. Love? Of course he did not love me. He would never love any woman. After all, did I love him? I might deem myself fortunate to have a father for my unborn child. I think it was at that moment that I had my first premonition of what my matrimonial life would be: Masham would keep me always pregnant to show the world that I belonged to him. And that as soon as I began to swell he would desert my bed for any other that was offered. As Harley had said, he was one of those males that can mate at any time with any female. There are worse husbands. At least he has never beaten me, and if he ever reads these pages, it will be too late.

7
    M
asham and I were married in Dr. Arbuthnot's apartments in St. James's Palace in the presence of the good doctor and his wife, my sister Alice (whom I had now established in the royal household), Mrs. Danvers and the Queen. None of us wore a wedding garment, and the ceremony took place in an almost conspiratorial silence and haste. Dean Thompson, who officiated, started reading the service as soon as my mistress, assisted by her trusty companion, Danvers, had hobbled through the doorway to take her seat in the armchair by the improvised altar. The moment he had delivered the benediction, the Queen rose, embraced me and took her leave. Masham, mollified by the royal presence, was an almost passionate lover that night.
    The next day my duties were resumed in normal fashion, and the Queen made no comment on what had happened. My husband and I continued to dwell apart, but as the Prince's apartments adjoined the Queen's, visitations were easily arranged and, at least in the first months of my pregnancy, were frequent. Nobody need have learned of the marriage until my condition betrayed it, had not the Queen's wedding gift of two hundred pounds showed up on the household accounts and attracted the immediate attention of the Duchess of Marlborough, as dutiful to the royal finances as she was negligent of the royal person.
    I was informed of this by the Queen herself. She seemed upset when I came to her chamber that morning and pulled me close to her when I knelt to tie her slipper.
    "The Duchess knows about your wedding. She found my gift in the accounts and challenged me about it. You should have heard her! I might have been a housemaid caught with her hand in the till. When I told her what it was for, she really burst out. Why had you not come to her first? I told her I had advised you to."
    This was not true, but was it up to me to contradict the Queen? I nodded.
    "Shall I go to her, ma'am?"
    "Yes. Right now, I think. But aren't you scared, child?"
    "How can I be scared when I married with Your Majesty's blessing? What can the Duchess do to me?"
    "She can make a great racket."
    "I shall survive it."
    I curtsied and took my leave. But my heart failed me for a moment when I faced the Duchess, magnificent in blue, seated on a divan of white damask in her apartment. Her tone was loud and harsh as she fixed her lustrous eyes on me.
    "Well, Mistress Abigail! Is this the way you treat your nearest kin? By letting