The Queen's Favourites aka Courting Her Highness (v5) by Jean Plaidy Page A

might do so at someone else’s. She is useful, of course.”
    “But we did not dismiss any of the servants when she came to us.”
    “That’s true enough. I will see what can be done. If there is a place that it would not disgrace us for her to accept then she shall go. For as you say, why should we feed someone who brings no benefit to us.”
    On matters of expense the Marlboroughs saw eye to eye. Abigail was a luxury they could do without; therefore they would give her to someone else.

    With Henrietta and John gone, Abigail’s life became less secure. She was aware that the Marlboroughs would consider she was scarcely worth her keep. John had now left to take up his position in the household of the Duke of Gloucester; and as there was no longer the wedding to discuss and prepare for, the house seemed much quieter. Anne was apprehensive—knowing her turn would come. She was more sensitive than her sister, but young Mary seemed to grow more and more like her mother and sister Henrietta, and her arrogance was disconcerting. She referred to Abigail as “that Hill Creature” and turned up her nose when she mentioned her. Abigail disliked the child very much and longed more than ever to get away from St. Albans; but she never gave the slightest indication of her feelings; all Mary could provoke her to do was lower her eyes as though she feared that they alone could betray her dislike.
    “It’s a miracle what she puts up with,” commented the servants. “Never gives a back answer—not even a look.”
    “And what would happen to her if she did? I wouldn’t be in her position—connected with gentry though she may be.”
    “These poor relations! I’d rather be a servant … good and proper. At least then you know your place.”
    “She seems to know hers all right.”
    “Her! Oh, she’s got no feelings.”
    “I wouldn’t change places with that Abigail Hill … not for all the money in the King’s purse!” was the summing up.
    While Abigail was wondering how she endured such a life and was contemplating what might happen to her when all the Churchill girls were married, Lady Marlborough arrived at St. Albans.
    There was the usual fuss of arrival, the fond embraces from her children, the loud voice, raised in affection or delivering a scolding—whatever the occasion demanded. But the entire household sprang to life with the arrival of Lady Marlborough.
    She had not been long in the house when she was demanding: “Where is Abigail Hill?”
    Abigail was summoned to the Countess’s room and there Sarah, magnificently dressed, fresh from Court, greeted her, if not with affection without displeasure.
    “There you are, Abigail Hill. And you are looking better than when I brought you here. Good food has improved you, Abigail. I hope you appreciate what I’ve done for you.”
    “Yes, Lady Marlborough.”
    “When I think of the state you were in when I found you all. Those ragged boys! I could not leave you like that, could I? I’ll daresay you often think of those days and compare them with what you enjoy at St. Albans.”
    One had to compare lack of food with lack of freedom, independence with patronage. It was difficult to say, Abigail decided, which was preferable. When one had enough to eat independence and dignity seemed the most precious acquisitions; but then when there was enough to eat one quickly forgot what it was like to be hungry.
    She said meekly: “Yes, Lady Marlborough.”
    “I have many duties in the household of the Princess Anne, as you know; and there is a great drain on my time, but I have been thinking of you, which surprises you. Confess it.”
    What answer was expected? With any other, one would have been surprised; but one knew that Lady Marlborough was so good, so kind, so thoughtful, so devoted to duty that she would not forget even the most humble and insignificant of poor relations.
    Would she detect the sarcasm behind such a remark? Of course not. Her great pride and belief