‘If you say so.’ She shrugged.‘All I am saying is that I wouldn’t mind if there had been, as far as this is concerned.’ She reached down and gave his penis a gentle tweak.‘Just as long as your heart is mine.’>
‘My heart, body and soul . . .’ Napoleon whispered, and then a dark thought rose into his consciousness and he was seized by a sense of uncertainty and fear. ‘And have you been faithful to me, Josephine?’
There was a brief pause before she replied. ‘Of course I have. What do you take me for? One of your cheap army tarts?’
‘Be serious with me. Tell me the truth.’
‘I am telling you the truth.’
‘On your life, swear it.’
‘I will not swear it, Napoleon. You either trust me or you don’t. What difference would swearing on my life make? I’m telling you, I have been faithful. That should be enough for you, if you really love me, as you say you do.’
Napoleon stared at her a moment longer, looking deep into her eyes for the slightest hint of betrayal, and then he rolled on to his back and shut his eyes.
‘If I thought that you were unfaithful, Josephine, it would break my heart. I could not go on. I could not live knowing that another man has lain with you, like this. That another man has . . .’ He could not say the words. Just the bare thought of it made his stomach clench into a knot. He tried to shake the feeling off by forcing himself to think of something else.
‘Why did you stay in Paris for so long? I thought we had agreed that you would follow me as soon as possible.’
‘I have come to you as soon as I was able,’ Josephine replied evenly. ‘But I had to sort out my travelling chests, and make sure that the house was left in good order for our return. Then I was ill for some weeks. Too ill to travel, at least.’ She fumbled for his hand and squeezed it. ‘I had hoped that I was with child, but nothing came of it. It was just a chill. But I hope we will be blessed one day, even though I will not remain in my childbearing years for ever. Besides,’ her tone took on a lighter note,‘I am sure that I would have been an unwelcome distraction for the only general who seems to be winning any battles for France.’
‘A distraction, yes. But not an unwelcome one.’
‘A distraction all the same.’ She laughed. ‘I doubt France would ever forgive me if I caused your concentration to slip from the task of beating the Austrians. And forgive me for saying this, but I am not terribly interested in military matters. I am only really at home in society, and would rather share that world with you than a humble campaign tent and the rough company of your soldiers.’
‘This is hardly a humble campaign tent.’ Napoleon gestured round the room, a fine bedchamber in one of the best houses in Milan. It was far larger and more gracious than the bedroom they had shared in the brief period between their marriage and his departure to take up command of the Army of Italy. ‘I can keep you far more comfortably here in Italy than in Paris.You would not want for anything.’
‘Apart from all my friends.’
‘I am sure you will make new friends here,’ Napoleon said quietly. ‘Besides, is being with your friends preferable to being with your husband?’
‘Of course not! But you cannot expect me to so easily give up my home, my friends, everything that was part of my life long before you appeared. As it is, I have brought some of my friends with me. And Hortense and Eugene, I hope you will try to become a good father to them. They need one.’
‘I will do my best.’ Napoleon yawned, his weariness creeping up on him like a soft warm shroud. ‘I will find a post for Eugene on my staff. As for your friends, I will make them feel welcome. While the campaign against Austria lasts we can create our own social life here in Italy.You’ll be treated like a princess, I promise.
And I’ll have my family join us. My mother, sisters and brothers.’ He smiled fondly. ‘To have all those I love close to me. I’ve not known that since I was a child. Not since I was sent away to school.’
Josephine shifted next to him, and he sensed a slight stiffening of her body.
‘What’s the matter, my love?’
There was a pause before Josephine replied.‘Your family is the matter.They’ve made little secret of their dislike for me, especially your mother and sisters. It seems that they don’t consider me worthy to be your wife. As if I was some common slut.’
‘That’s the Corsican blood. They tend to see the rest of the world as somehow beneath them.’
‘But not you?’
‘My future is tied to that of France. Paoli and his henchmen threw us out of Corsica. I owe Corsica nothing. But my family still feel as if they belong to the island, particularly the women, and Mother most of all.You must try to ignore them, Josephine. All that matters is how I feel about you. You married me, not them.’
‘I married into your family,’ Josephine responded. ‘That’s how they see it. And for that they treat me like a trespasser, or a poacher.’
‘A poacher,’ Napoleon mused sleepily. ‘Then I must be your game.’
‘Oh, you!’ She punched him playfully, then leaned over to kiss him on the lips, and rested her head on his shoulder as he drifted off to sleep.
Josephine’s entourage was everything Napoleon had feared. A string of brightly dressed women, all big mouths and small talk - some of the smallest talk he had ever encountered. They proved to be an unwelcome distraction for his staff officers and senior generals, who found every excuse to visit the army’s headquarters and stay long after the briefings and meetings were over. In addition to her female coterie a number of young men had travelled to Milan with her. Some were on official business: art specialists sent to select the finest works of art to be shipped to Paris under the terms of various treaties that had been imposed by France; scientists and topographers to select various papers and maps from the most prestigious academies of Italy; and a handful of officers in glittering uniforms that had never been near a battlefield, or a field of any kind, Napoleon mused. There was one in particular who caught his eye. A tall, fair lieutenant of hussars who seemed to follow Josephine everywhere, carrying her pug, Fortune, tucked under his arm.
‘Who is he?’ Napoleon nodded towards the hussar as they walked with a small crowd of guests around the ornate gardens of the mansion he had chosen for his quarters.
Josephine turned to look in the direction her husband had indicated and smiled. ‘That’s Hippolyte Charles. Rather elegant, don’t you think? Quite a catch for my salon in Paris. The ladies adore him.’
‘Why is he not on active service?’
‘He’s incompetent as a cavalry officer, by all accounts - despite being what one might describe as a fine mount in other ways. Anyway, he has a private fortune, very few duties, and a desire to see how well my husband and his army are performing. So I invited him along. You don’t mind? He’s devoted to my dog.’
‘No, of course not, my dear,’ Napoleon replied evenly, though he could think of better uses to which he might put a cavalry officer than looking after a lap dog. On the other hand, anyone who kept that wretched pug away from him should be considered a blessing, he reflected, recalling a nasty bite that Fortune had once inflicted on him when the little beast had refused to give up his space on Josephine’s bed to him. Napoleon frowned at the memory. ‘Would you like me to find a place for him on my staff ?’
Josephine shrugged. ‘If you like. But I warn you, the man has air for brains. I can’t think that he would be of any value to you.’
‘Perhaps not, but if it would please you?’
‘You’re very kind.’ Josephine smiled. ‘But I think a man of his intellectual pedigree is best suited to serving as my dog groom.’
Napoleon laughed. ‘Very well. I cannot think of a man I’d rather wish Fortune on.’
Josephine turned and swatted him on the shoulder with her fan. ‘What is wrong with my darling dog?’
Napoleon glanced at the pug, which promptly bared its teeth at him. ‘Let’s just say his bite is worse than his bark.’
The time that Napoleon could spare for Josephine was as precious to him as any treasure, especially since the Austrians were intent on relieving the fortress at Mantua. Towards the end of July a new offensive was launched from the Tyrol under an old veteran, General Wurmser. Napoleon was roused from the bed he shared with Josephine in the early hours, and for several days he hardly left his saddle as the French army was driven back by
