Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II

been given to Killigrew.

He came to the Queen—his face set into lines of resignation.

“I came out of my retirement too quickly,” he told her. “I fear I must go at once to Tunbridge Wells.”

Mary was desolate; but clearly the charming Earl must consider his health.

This was a time of waiting for Sarah—always so irksome. John was in England and for that she was thankful. How she enjoyed those occasions when they could be alone together, planning, always planning for the grand future which lay ahead. He did not always agree with her and there were frequent quarrels, but he was as ambitous as she was, and they were working toward the same goal, although they did not always want to take the same road. He told her that she was too domineering, that she made too many enemies; she retorted that he wasted time on attempted diplomacy. But they always made up their quarrels; they knew they were bound together for the glory of the Marlboroughs. If he could get command of the Army and she could get command of the Queen—which Anne would be one day—they would be for all important purposes King and Queen of England. It was a wonderfully exhilarating prospect and worth a lifetime’s plotting, planning, and occasional disagreements.

Marlborough was almost hoping for an invasion of England that would give him an opportunity to show his skill. He had hoped that it might happen because there had been rebellions in Deal and Rye, and as far north as Berwick. Scotland was always suspected of being firmly behind the Stuarts and therefore for James against William. But French folly in making the hit and run attack on Teignmouth had quelled all thoughts of rebellion against William and Mary because of a need to stand against England’s enemy: France.

They must wait in patience, said Marlborough; but patience was not one of Sarah’s virtues.

She looked about for some light diversion and found one.

She was playing cards with Anne and a few of the Princess’s women when they began to discuss the effects of the victory in Ireland.

Sarah commented that this would probably mean that there were estates in Ireland which would come to the King’s faithful supporters. Then she noticed that Lady Fitzharding was looking a little smug.

Sarah could guess what this meant.

It was an astonishing thing that Elizabeth Villiers should have received so little from the King. She supposed it was because he hoped to keep his relationship with her secret. What a fool Elizabeth was not to feather her nest while she had the chance. Little Hook-Nose was not going to last forever, and if she could believe her spies, which she could for they would not dare deceive her, he was spitting blood. And what would Elizabeth Villiers have when he was gone? Would Queen Mary offer a pension to the lady who had served her husband so well?

Sarah snorted with amusement.

Impatiently she played her cards, bringing the game to an early end; then she sought an opportunity of cornering Barbara Fitzharding.

“It would not surprise me,” she said, “if your sister did well out of this Irish business.”

Barbara’s lips closed quite perceptibly tighter.

Does she think I’m blind! thought Sarah.

“Well,” said Sarah, “have you lost your tongue?”

“His Majesty has not taken me into his confidence,” replied Barbara.

“I didn’t think His Majesty had. But it’s no use pretending your sister isn’t his mistress when we all know it. I think she’d be a fool not to get what she can out of Ireland and I don’t think she’s all that much of a fool.”

“I agree with you on that. I do not think my sister is a fool either.”

“She will be rich in a short time. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Earl of Portland has his picking.”

“It may well be,” answered Barbara.

May well be! thought Sarah. It is.

She told Anne about this. “It is quite funny. That Dutch Abortion. Such a clever general, my dear! Why wasn’t Marlborough sent to Ireland? He would have settled them long ere this. No, Caliban must go! He must be the great hero.”

“They say he is a great soldier.”

“Great soldier indeed. Ha! Great soldier and great lover! Do you know he has the Irish estates to dispose of now? He is going to shower them on … whom do you think? Two guesses, Mrs. Morley. I should have thought he was neuter. But he teeters half one way half the other. There is Betty Squint-Eye on one side and his dear Bentinck on the other, with Keppel waiting for his turn. It will be pickings for Betty and Bentinck.”

“My sister will not be pleased,” said Anne.

“They hope to keep it secret from her. I think she should be told. After all, think to what good use she could put the Irish estates.”

Mary sat alone in her apartment weeping.

Life was too difficult. There had been the dreadful affair of Torrington and the disaster of Beachy Head; then all the trouble over Haddock and Ashby and she knew Killigrew was a most unwise choice; dear Shrewsbury had become so ill over the matter that he had retired to Tunbridge Wells; she had been frantic with worry as to what was happening to William in Ireland; and when she had visited her dear little nephew for solace, her sister Anne had been there and had hinted that William was going to bestow Irish estates on Elizabeth Villiers.

Often she was able to dismiss that woman from her mind. It is not so, she had told herself. It used to be, but it