“You must be aware that Sarah Churchill attempts to govern your life.”
“Govern my life. How?”
“Does she not tell you what you must do and are you not inclined always to do it?”
“Sarah Churchill is my friend … my greatest friend … the friend I trust more than anyone in the world.”
“Then I am sorry for you.”
“I know of course that you hate her. You haven’t a great friend now, have you? I am sorry. You must have forgotten how once Frances Apsley was your great friend. She is still mine, but not such a great friend as Sarah, of course. I see no harm in having friends. Nor did you once. I suppose William has asked you to do this.”
“I am asking you because I believe you would be better without Sarah Churchill.”
“I think I should be allowed to choose my own household.”
“I am advising you.”
“I could advise you.”
“Do not be so foolish, Anne. If you are not careful I shall take away half of your income.”
“You couldn’t do it,” retorted Anne. “The Parliament has voted me my income … although I know you and William tried to deprive me of it.”
“And how much do you allow the Marlboroughs?”
“That is my own affair.”
“Anne! You forget …”
“That you are the Queen? I do not. You won’t allow me. You come to talk to me like a sister, you say, and then you are reminding me that you are the Queen. Well, I am the Princess Anne—our father’s daughter no less than you, and the heiress to the throne, for you and William have no children—nor ever will have. So I and my little Gloucester are entitled to some consideration.”
Mary interrupted her. “You give the Marlboroughs a thousand a year. That is ridiculous and extravagant. Why should they have this money. Are they not paid for their services … he in the Army and for his Court duties … she for her duties here at the Cockpit? Why these extravagant gifts? Shall I remind you that your income has to come out of the royal purse and if it is so large that you can afford to give rich gifts of one thousand a year—to those who don’t deserve them—then I think it high time your income was reconsidered.”
“This is monstrous,” cried Anne, wiping her eyes. “To think that you come here … and me in my present state …”
“I do not mean to upset you, merely to make you see a little good sense.”
“Which in your opinion is to rid myself of my best friends.”
“Your friends are the King and myself.”
“I have yet to see any signs of your friendship.”
“Oh, you are the most ungrateful wretch!”
“Should you talk of ingratitude?”
Anne’s lips were pursed together, for she was remembering the letter she had written to her father. How much happier she had felt since writing that! Mary had asked no forgiveness. How could she, tied as she was to Dutch William? The only way she could repent was to go back to Holland and take her Dutchman with her.
How much more pleasant for Anne; all she had to do was write her penitent letter and continue to live at the Cockpit with Gloucester nearby and perhaps another little one soon, and dear Sarah her constant companion.
Her constant companion—that was the point at issue.
“Sarah shall remain with me,” she said stubbornly. “No one shall take her away from me.”
William, wigless, in bed, was not a handsome sight; but all his attendants were accustomed to that by now.
The ceremony was never a very pleasant one. Charles II had made of it a very merry occasion, with his quips and jokes and the King’s wit was something worth listening to. James’s rising ceremony had not been amusing, but it had been dignified and there had been conversation, although it was almost always confined to horses and women. William’s was silent and was merely the grim purpose of dressing the King.
It was Marlborough’s duty to put on William’s shirt. He did this as usual, and if the King looked at him as though he did not exist, that was not unusual.
The duty over, Marlborough was leaving the apartment when Lord Nottingham approached him.
“My Lord Marlborough, a word with you.”
Marlborough and several of the bedchamber people halted to listen, for there was something grave—even ominous—in Nottingham’s tone.
“The King has asked me to inform you that he has no further use for your services.”
“What!”
Nottingham nodded. “All your employments should be sold or disposed of, for neither the King nor the Queen
