‘The Queen’s Favourites’, aka ‘Courting her Highness’, is for me the best in Jean Plaidy’s Stuart Saga, though nowhere near as good as it could’ve been. The way it started, I thought I’d picked another Plaidy dud, but in between a poor opening and an even poorer ending is some quality drama and intrigue.
This is the story of three women: Queen Anne, Sarah Churchill, and Abigail Hill. Sarah and Abigail are related, but their characters couldn’t be more different, with each being fascinating in their own way. My sympathies were with Abigail throughout.
Opening the story by looking back on events from Sarah's perspective makes for a passive read. It’s hard to get into books that start this way, and I imagine some readers will give up.
The overuse of the past perfect ‘had’ results in reporting on a scene, rather than taking the reader through the action as it unfolds:
'When he had left them they had had to listen to accounts—heard many times before—of his wit and wisdom.'
Once we meet Abagail, the story becomes more interesting. Unlike the loud and arrogant Sarah, Abagail – the poor relation – is meek and obedient, yet not without wit or ambition.
Abagail's arrival at Sarah’s house could've been 'shown' to great effect. Sadly, it’s ‘told’ to poor effect:
'Her reception was much as she had expected it would be. Who was the new arrival? the servants asked. She was a member of the family but that most despised of connections—a poor relation. Her clothes—those which were not recognized as Lady Elizabeth’s cast-offs—were shabby and much patched and darned. A very poor relation! She was to be put to useful service in the nursery. This was the command of Lady Marlborough, and those in authority would see that it would be carried out in the most humiliating way.'
The above could’ve been dramatized and shown the reader how Abagail felt under the servants scrutiny, and so on.
Again, Abigail meeting Sarah's children could made for great drama, but instead we have static descriptions:
'They were all good looking, having inherited the beautiful hair which was their mother’s greatest claim to beauty. It seemed too that some of them had not missed her arrogance either. Henrietta, the eldest, certainly possessed it; and in spite of her youth the same quality was apparent in nine-year-old Mary. Anne was different; she had a gentler nature; she was calm, and although a little aloof from Abigail, she made no attempt to browbeat her. Anne, although a year younger than Henrietta, seemed more mature than her sister. There was a gap of three years between Anne and eleven-year-old Elizabeth, and although the younger sister admired the elder and tried to follow her example now and then the temper would refuse to be restrained. Ten-year-old John was more like Anne. Being the only boy, he was adored by the family, and the servants said he took after his father rather than his mother.'
Later, more opportunities for engaging with Abigail’s new life are lost to passive reporting:
'She took lessons with the girls; the governess looked down on her and even commented in her hearing that she had not bargained for teaching the likes of her.'
When we do get some dialogue to convey what the servants think of Abigail, we don’t get any sense of place. Nor do we see the characters:
'“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.'
And ‘was the summing up’ is the problem. As a reader, I don’t want a summing up; I want drama and to be engaged with the characters and story.
Even worse, we later get way too much backstory on the Spencer family, which sounds like a textbook, not a novel:
'But with the passing of Charles and the coming to the throne of James it was necessary to decide where it was necessary to bestow one’s allegiance. Sunderland was an opportunist—so while he pretended to support James he was in league with William of Orange that he might be ready to leap whichever way would bring him most advantage.'
Reported speech is one of Plaidy’s worst traits. For example, this shows us nothing, and fails to engage:
'Abigail asked if he were satisfied with his post, and he replied that he was very well satisfied.' And: 'But before they took leave of each other they had promised they would meet again.'
We also get blatant telling with things like the quotes below, which is a lack of imagination on the author’s part:
‘Anne was obviously pleased with his company.’ And: ‘She looked startled.’
Among all the poor and unimaginative style issues, however, is plenty of intrigue. Sarah installs Abigail as the queen’s chamber maid, sure that Anne will be grateful. Unaware, Sarah has sown the seeds of a friendship between Anne and Abigail that will threaten her (Sarah’s) own high standing.
While Sarah must have everything she wants *now*, Abigail is prepared to play the long game. I enjoyed how the relationship between Abigail and Anne gradually builds, and how through this cracks begin to form between Anne and Sarah.
This three-way relationship/rivalry is the core of the story, and to me it’s fascinating. This period of English history is unknown to me, so everything that happens came as a surprise.
The story should’ve ended with Queen Anne’s death, followed by a couple of brief scenes showing how the death affected Abigail and Sarah.
Instead, what follows is a dry and lengthy summing up of Abigail and Sarah’s respective lives. This info would’ve been fine in an author’s note. I would’ve welcomed it, in fact, but to continue the story on as a report of what happened to Abigail and Sarah is boring. A good author should know when to end a chapter, particularly the last one. If she’d carried on and dramatized events, then fair enough, but to continue in this mundane way is hard to digest.
As mentioned, the bulk of the story is engaging, but the passive opening and the needless summing up at the end spoil what could’ve been a great book.
Despite my criticisms, I do recommend ‘The Queen’s Favourites’ to anyone interested in the period. It’s made me interested in learning more about it, and to read other novels set during Anne’s reign. I hear there’s a film called ‘The Favourite’, so I’ll be checking that out too.