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“My dearest Anne, I am writing to you begging for a chance to put this right. I miss you terribly, indeed more deeply than I could ever have imagined I would. I am consumed with such regret over what transpired between you, I and Abigail Masham. I know that what happened between you and I may have shattered our beautiful friendship but please do know as you read this that I love you deeply and always have. I know that I threatened to go public with the beautiful letters you sent me during our time together, but I burned those letters in regret. It was simply a moment of anger, the words spoken out of turn. I meant none of it. Absolutely none of it. I would never have caused you harm, please believe me. I was merely worried that I may lose you and that was something that I couldn’t bare to see happen. Unfortunately, that very chain of events happened anyway, for I lost you, my dearest Anne. The thought of this consumes my mind and fills me with grief.”
Anne Stuart, queen of Great Britain, sat with her head bowed as she read through Sarah’s letter. The words filled her with sadness. It seemed that Sarah and she shared the same sadness, though they were currently living hundreds of miles apart. They still shared so much. They always had. She blinkd back tears.
Anne was alone now. She had dismissed Abigail from her service. The memory of the reason why haunted her. She had deliberately hurt one of her babies. That was something that Anne could never, would never forgive. The woman was a monster. She was a viper, just as Sarah had said. Anne hadn’t listened, and now it appeared that she was paying the price. She was paying the price for choosing the wrong favourite.
“I wish that you could see it in your heart to allow me back into the country and the court, my dear. I would give anything to be back in your arms again. Abigail cannot offer you the happiness of which I am capable of giving you. She does not and never did love you, Anne. She flattered you. That is all. She flattered you as everyone else in the court always has, and it is only I who is willing to tell you the truth. I would never lie to you my dearest. That is the measure of true love.”
Anne was beginning to think that Sarah was right. Abigail’s flattery had been a wonderful thing and her kind words had been in stark contrast to Sarah Churchill’s blunt ways. Anne had seen Abigail’s actions as those of a person who truly cared for her. She had believed that for so long, had believed everything Abigail had told her. ‘She is a complete darling.’ That was what she had told Sarah. Anne wished that she could take those words back now. How guilty she was feeling because of them. Abigail was no darling. No darling would ever stoop as low as to hurt one of the creatures that Anne held so dear to her heart. She knew that for all her faults, for all her blustering, her sometimes cruel unkindness and her attempts to force her will upon Anne, Sarah Churchill would never have harmed one of her babies. Never.
“I do not know if there is anything I can do to rectify this situation. I desperately desire it. The sadness is consuming me. I need to be back in your arms again before I run mad with agitation over my plight. If only you could see it fit to allow me back to Britain to explain things, Anne. I feel that it is not only necessary, but imperitive. If you could only see it in your heart to hear me out my dear, I think that I could put this right. I love you my dear. Just keep that in mind and think over what I have written. Please do know that it comes directly from the heart. Yours always, your ever loving Sarah.”
Anne folded up the letter and layed it aside on the coverlet beside her. What should she do? She had sent Sarah and her husband from the kingdom because of the information that Abigail had relayed to her after checking on the royal accounts. Now that she was thinking of it again, Anne had to doubt Abigail’s word. Had she lied? Had she made up the theft by Sarah and her husband? Anne had to admit that it was more than possible. If Abigail could hurt one of her babies, she could definitely have made up a lie about Sarah and her theft from the royal treasury. And if the theft was a lie made up by Abigail, then how much more of her words had been created out of falsehoods? She didn’t like to think of it.
She wanted Sarah back. Now that Abigail had left her service and her bed, Anne Stuart was lonely. She was very lonely indeed. Her health had taken a drastic turn for the worse in the past few weeks, a condition that her doctors were sure was caused by the loneliness that was consuming her heart and soul. She didn’t want to be alone any more. She needed companionship. She needed Sarah Churchill’s companionship. She had been the best companion Anne Stuart had ever been blessed with knowing.
She reached out a hand, ringing a bell by her side. A servant hurried in and bowed as she stood before Britain’s anointed queen. “What can I do for you, your majesty?” she asked in a quavering voice. Why did people always behave in such a strange manner whenever they were in the presence of a royal? It wasn’t as if she was going to bite.
“I require some paper and a quill,” Anne informed the timid young servant, “I wish to write a letter.”
The shy servant girl nodded and scurried out, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to leave the room. Anne was once again left alone. Sarah would never have behaved in such a demure way. Sarah would stand boldly before her, talking to Anne like an equal, rather than someone to whom she had to give respect whether she liked the queen herself or not. That was something else that Anne loved and admired Sarah for. Sarah Churchill wouldn’t have bowed to anyone. She was too bold and strong for that.
Anne wrote her letter swiftly and with tear filled eyes. The words blurred in front of her as she faught not to cry. The words she wrote to her long lost lover also came from the heart. Once she had finished writing it, she read it through once, knowing that she would never have taken the words back, even if she had wanted to.
“My dearest Sarah, I write to inform you that I miss you too, and have decided to allow you to come back to England and try to put to rest the troubles that lie between us. I write this knowing that I desire a friendship with you also. I know now that despite my earlier thoughts, you were correct about Abigail and her ways. She is no longer in my service, my dearest Sarah. She did something unspeakably cruel to me, something that I can never nor will ever forgive her for. She hurt one of my babies, dear Sarah. I could never trust her again once she did that terrible thing. I drew such comfort from your letter to me, and confess that I love you too. I am lonely without you, dearest Sarah. I am lost without you. I do not need Abigail. I do not need another favourite. I need you and no other. Please do come back to Britain at your earliest opportunity. I wait for your imminant return with an anxious but hopeful heart. I do wish for nothing more than a mere reconciliation, dearest Sarah. If you do decide to come back to Britain, I wish you the best of luck traveling back across our choppy waters. I shall imagine you every day, moving ever closer to me, ever closer to returning to me. I love you, Sarah. Please get home safely and as soon as you can.”
Anne Stuart folded up her letter and placed it to the side, waiting for yet another fawning servant to enter and take it away for delivery. She felt infinitely better for having written to Sarah. Now that she had poured her heart out onto the page, Anne felt better. She felt as if the tight knot of unhappiness that had existed inside her chest since Sarah had left all those many months ago was finally desolving. For that, Anne could feel nothing but happiness. Soon, she would have her favourite by her side once again.
Queen Anne waited in impatience for Sarah to return back to Britain from Germany where she had been banished. She knew that her lover was indeed on her way over to Britain and back to her side. Anne could feel the spirit of her lover coming ever closer and she woke up every day feeling lighter of heart and happier of spirit. As the days flew bye, Anne’s servants and doctors were emboldened by her recovering health. Anne was the only person who knew why she had made such a sudden recovery. Her mind was healing and so her body was following suit. Sarah had often told her of mind over matter and until now, Anne hadn’t believed her. Now she believed it. Sarah had been correct. She often was in many different ways.
The return of Sarah Churchill was swift and as low key as the queen could make it. People were aware of the woman’s arrival however, as she knew that they were bound to be. Nothing could remain a secret at court, no matter how much one would have liked. Anne could never keep anything totally hidden but as Sarah Churchill rode up the long pathway to the palace doors, Anne knew that at least the knowledge of her friend’s return was confined to a few people. She judged that they were reasonably safe. Anne lingered at her window, ignoring the pain that was threatening to consume her. She wanted to catch a glimpse of Sarah before she arrived in the queen’s chambers. She had to see her. She needed to see her.
Ah, there she was. Sarah Churchill, tall and brilliantly beautiful as ever, was walking up the pathway towards her lover’s home. Anne stood at the window, drinking in the sight of her x favourite, glad that she was once again preparing to greet Sarah for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She couldn’t wait.
Anne Stuart returned to a chair to wait for Sarah. She had asked one of her maids to prepare her as best she could. She had had her make up done properly this time. She would never let it be said that she looked like a badger this day. Sarah’s eyes would settle upon Anne and she would fall in love with the queen once again. Anne would make sure of that. Abigail was far away. She wouldn’t disturb them. She would be forgotten in she and Sarah’s reunion. The viper was no longer of import to either of them. Anne smiled brightly. Oh, how she longed for the opening of that door. Oh how much she wished to see Sarah.
Presently, Anne’s attention was caught by the slow opening of the door, quickly followed by the image of Sarah Churchill entering the room. For a single instant, Anne’s breath was stolen from her. Sarah Churchill seemed even more beautiful than she remembered. Her hair shone like a sheet of gold in the light coming from the large window and her finely cut gown rustled quietly as she stepped into the room, smiling at Anne as she turned her head to look her way.
“Dearest Anne,” Sarah said with a wide smile, throwing her arms wide as if she could have imbraced Anne from across the room. She could not of course, but as she gazed upon her lover, Anne felt as if Sarah’s arms were already around her.
“I thank you for returning, Sarah my dear,” Anne told the other woman with an equally wide smile, “won’t you say hello to the kids?”
Sarah nodded dutifully and made her way across the room to where Anne’s seventeen rabbits were playing in the corner. “I would never have missed this opportunity to see you again,” Sarah told her, “I am glad for this chance. I have missed you.” Putting out a hand, Sarah stroked each rabbit in turn, glad to be doing anything as long as it pleased the woman she loved. Looking up, she spied Anne’s smile and said in a soft voice, “what precisely happened to make you change your mind?” She couldn’t deny it. She was curious.
Anne glowerd at the ground. “Abigail did something so horrific that I find it difficult to think of it even now,” came the trembulous reply.
Sarah stood and strode across to Anne, kneeling at her side and taking the queen’s hand. “Oh my dear,” she said, strangely soft as she looked into Anne Stuart’s eyes, “what happened? Pray tell.”
Anne took a deep breath and plunged into the story. “Abigail hurt one of my babies. She tried to crush the life out of him with her foot. I heard my baby screaming for me and hurried over to him. I never thought Abigail would do that to me, Sarah. I never imagined she could be so cruel.”
A flicker of anger flitted across Sarah’s face for a moment. She tried her best to bite her tongue and to stop the words from slipping out of her mouth. She had warned Anne that Abigail was a manipulative, evil minded bitch. She couldn’t tell her that however. She could tell that to comment negatively about her rival would not prove to be a good idea at this point. She closed her mouth, deciding to stay silent about her. “I’m so sorry,” she said gently, stroking Anne’s hand with her thumb and whispering softly into the quiet of Anne’s chambers, “I do hope he’s alright now.”
Anne nodded. She was gladdened to know that Sarah was as concerned about her rabbit’s plight as she was. “He is fine now, thank you my love.”
A gentle and companionable silence descended between the two women as they sat together side by side. Anne felt the closeness that was once again palpable between the two of them. She couldn’t stop smiling. She was glad that she had replied to Sarah’s letter. If she had not, then perhaps Sarah would not have returned.
“I have missed you so much my dearest Anne,” Sarah repeated again, voice soft and low as if she thought that someone could hear their spoken words, “You cannot imagine how I have yearned for you.”
Anne nodded. “I too have missed you,” she agreed with furver, “and I am so sorry that I banished you from the kingdom. I am sorry that I allowed Abigail into my life and forced you out. I hope you can forgive me.”
Sarah had to be honest with herself, at least inside her head. She did feel a faint trace of anger at Anne for being fool hardy enough to accept Abigail’s fluttering flatterings as the truth, forcing Sarah to shrink into the background. She was angry at Abigail for hurting her dear Anne, but she was even angrier with herself for allowing her cousin to stande between herself and her love. If she had not allowed Abigail to become her lady of the bed chamber, perhaps she and Anne’s relationship would not have dissolved in the manner that it had for so long. But still, Abigail’s attempts to worm her way into the queen’s affections hadn’t succeeded and Sarah was once again back at the queen’s side. ‘You fool Abigail,’ she told her cousin inside her head, ‘you bloody fool. Now I have the queen and you have been left with nothing.’
Out loud to the queen she said, “Just as long as you can forgive me for all the wrong things I did to keep Abigail out of your way. I was jealous of the attention you offered to her. That is all. Will you forgive me for my foolishness?”
Anne Stuart nodded. “Of course I can, dearest Sarah.” She lifted her hand and kissed the hand that Sarah held in her own. “I love you Sarah. I am so glad that you have returned to me.”
Sarah beamed, lifting a hand and kissing Anne’s in return. “And I love you, sweet Anne.” She looked up into the queen’s face with a wide smile. “Am I once again your favourite?”
Anne nodded firmly. “You have always been my favourite, Sarah. We will never be parted again. Never. We will be the strongest force in Britain and we shall go to every party and have so much fun together.”
“Indeed we shall.” As she spoke these words, Sarah felt a lump rising in her throat. It was most uncharacteristic of Sarah Churchill to cry but as she knelt on the floor beside Anne’s chair, she felt the tears starting in her eyes. ‘Why not let her see the emotions,’ a little voice said loudly inside her head, ‘just let her see them. Perhaps it would do you good to allow someone to see how much you loved them.’
And so she allowed those tears of joy and relief to fall freely and unbidden down her cheeks. She clung onto Anne’s hand as if that was the only thing keeping her alive and sobbed. Anne too was crying, but then, her dearest Anne was an emotional woman. Sarah sat on the floor, aware that a wall had been broken down between herself and the woman she loved. Though to stop crying at that moment would have been very difficult indeed, Sarah felt happy. She felt blissfully happy. She had managed to achieve what she never thought she would. She had managed to once again become Anne Stuart’s favourite. She had reclaimed her lover’s heart and she was back where she belonged in the country she loved and in the company of the woman she adored. Sarah Churchill thought of Abigail Masham for what was to be the final time. Abigail had played the game well, but she had fallen short. Sarah had won. Abigail Masham would never again be able to take her lover from her. Sarah would make sure of that. She would keep Anne safe from Abigail and others like her, what ever it took. Anne Stuart was hers, and she would be hers for ever.