Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II

greatest soldier in the world; yes, and have the world recognize him as such.

But that meant playing the game of life very carefully; knowing your luck for what it was and exploiting it.

Sarah had been a little shocked when she realized how far the Mulgrave affair had gone; not that she was alarmed; she was certain it could not go much farther. For one thing, she, Sarah Churchill, would not allow it.

“However,” went on Sarah, “the King is kind to lovers.”

“Oh, Sarah,” laughed Anne, “how right you are! And so he should be.”

“But,” went on Sarah sternly, “for the time, you must be careful. This must go no farther than letters and an occasional meeting with another present.”

“You, Sarah, of course.”

“There is no one else you can trust.”

“Oh, Sarah, how wonderful to have you to look after me! All will be well, I am sure. When you think they might have married me to that hateful George who, to my mind, was as bad—or almost—as poor Mary’s Orange.”

Prince George of Hanover! thought Sarah. She had been alarmed when that possibility had arisen. She had not liked the little German, who could not speak a word of English and gave the impression that he was not going to try. He was small of stature and uncouth in manners.

Ugh! shivered Sarah. And what place would there have been for John and Sarah Churchill at Hanover? She was glad that had come to nothing.

“A most distasteful man!” she muttered.

Then she remembered that Anne had been complacent enough. Of course Mulgrave had not appeared on the scene at that time; but Anne had shown no qualms, although the creature was so repulsive and would have carried her off to Hanover.

Anne was adaptable. That was why she was such an excellent mistress for an ambitious woman to serve. Serve! Proud Sarah was not one to serve. She wanted to guide her mistress into giving all that was best to Sarah Churchill, that Sarah might make use of it for John, and this clever couple become the most powerful people in the world.

She was not even in the service of Anne, but that of Mary of Modena, Duchess of York, so she would not have accompanied the Princess to Hanover. Nor had she had any intention of going—although with the Duke and Duchess so unpopular that they must periodically be banished from England, she could not see clearly ahead. If the Duke of York were King it would be good to be in the service of his wife; and to be in the service of Anne might mean that one were sent anywhere in the world if she made a foreign marriage—as the Princess Mary had been sent to Holland.

To play this game now was like walking a tightrope, but Sarah knew she was capable of coming safely across.

“Write your love letters,” said Sarah. “I will see that they are delivered. Then … in time … we must think of a plan.”

Anne threw herself into her friend’s arms.

“I am thinking of all I owe you, Sarah,” said Anne.

Sarah was thinking: She grows fatter than ever.

As soon as Sarah was alone she asked herself how best she could put an end to this unfortunate romance. In the first place she did not care to see Anne more enamored of another person than she was of Sarah herself; and there was no doubt that she was positively besotted about Mulgrave.

The marriage is most unsuitable! Sarah said to herself. Anyone but my foolish Anne would know it. As for Mulgrave, he, poor fool, is prepared to make a bid for power. So with one blinded by ambition and another by love, they might be prepared to put up a fight for what they call their love.

“Love!” said Sarah aloud. “Fiddle-faddle!” And when had Anne ever put up a fight for anything? No, Anne would be guided by her strongest adviser—and Sarah had no doubt who that was.

She looked back over her career with great satisfaction—and, she reminded herself, it was only beginning.

When she and her sister Frances were young it had seemed that they had had little hope of ever reaching Court. And now here she was, firmly established, a close friend of the Princess Anne who might one day (and Sarah was determined that this should be) become Queen of England.

But if the foolish fat creature began romancing with the first handsome man who came along, who could say in what trouble that might not land her? And if Anne made the wrong marriage what effect was this going to have on Sarah Churchill?

It was not often that the daughter of a humble squire obtained service in the royal apartments. But both she and Frances had. They were born lucky, their mother was apt to tell them; but Sarah would always respond sharply that what others called luck was really the result of hard work and clever planning by the brilliant ones who achieved it.

Looking back, Sarah decided she was predestined to greatness. She had been born at the time of Charles II’s return to England. She often smiled to think of all the gaiety in the streets, all the garlands strewn on the cobbles; the bells ringing, the bonfires blazing, the processions; the joy because the long Puritan reign was over and England was going to be merry again. All that in the streets, and in a little house at Holywell, not far from St. Albans, Sarah Jennings was being born.

Sarah liked to think that all the bells were ringing for her; all the rejoicing was because Sarah had come into the world. Foolish thoughts—but the people had been greeting a ruler and it was not always those who wore crowns that ruled.

It seemed incredible that she and Frances should have come to Court. Their father was dead and their mother had disgraced herself by telling fortunes and setting herself up as a seer, but the Jennings’ had been wealthy during