''It is understood that ratifications will be exchanged within two weeks, and that they will be followed by a Royal proclamation in which His Majesty will order a cessation of arms by sea and land.
''According to the preliminary articles, five months from the date of the exchange of ratifications will be the longest period during which hostilities can exist in the most distant parts of the globe.''
As soon as he stopped reading, Gianna said: 'It gives no actual details, then? Just that the preliminaries have been signed?'
'There is a second article, which may or may not be official. The writer simply says 'We understand . . .' That's often a way the government flies a kite to see how Parliament will react; sometimes it is simply gossip.'
'Read it out, anyway,' his mother said.
'I'll just tell you the main points. As far as I can see, we return to Bonaparte and his allies everything we've taken and he keeps everything except - Egypt. Anyway, starting with the West Indies: we return every island we've captured from the Dutch except Dutch Guiana but we don't return Trinidad to the Spanish.'
The Earl sniffed: 'That's Bonaparte punishing the Dons for making peace with Portugal without his permission!'
Nicholas nodded. His father understood the broader sweep of world affairs better than he. 'Denmark gets back the islands of St Thomas, St Croix and St John . . .' For a moment his memory flicked back to the Triton brig, his second command, drifting dismasted in the Caribbean after a hurricane, with St Thomas and St Croix in the distance.
'The Swedes get back St Bartholomew.'
A tiny island north of Antigua but one of the most beautiful in the Leeward Islands.
'France - well, Bonaparte gets back all the sugar islands except Guadeloupe. We lost thousands of soldiers and hundreds of seamen from sickness to capture them. Every capture raised a cheer in Parliament for the government. Now Bonaparte gets them back - by bluffing Hawkesbury, I suppose.'
Every one of those islands was as familiar to Ramage as Whitehall: St Lucia, and his attack with the Triton brig; Martinique, where he had seized Diamond Rock and captured a convoy, and his present command, the Calypso frigate, raiding Fort Royal - or Fort de France, as the Republicans had renamed it; Antigua with its mosquitoes and corruption . . .
'Now,' he continued, 'the Atlantic. We return the Cape of Good Hope to the Dutch, and Portugal gets Madeira.'
'So we lose provisioning ports on the way to India,' his father said. 'Hawkesbury is a bigger fool than anyone believed.'
'You flatter him,' Nicholas said dryly, 'because, in the East Indies, Malacca, Amboyna, Banda and Ternate are returned to the Dutch, although we keep Ceylon. But in India Bonaparte gets back Pondicherry, Chandernagore and various settlements along the Ganges.'
'It's unbelievable,' the Admiral said, his voice revealing his despair. 'We've lost so many lives and beggared ourselves and now we sign a peace treaty which would be harsh even if we'd lost the war.'
'We won the war and Hawkesbury and Addington have lost the peace,' Nicholas said bitterly.
Gianna said quietly: 'There is no mention of Italy?'
'Not of Volterra, but I'm just coming to Europe,' Nicholas said. 'We return the island of St Marcouf, Egypt goes back to the Sublime Porte, and the Order of St John of Jerusalem have Malta, Gozo and Comino restored to them. France has to evacuate Naples and Roman territory - that is the only reference to Italy - while Britain evacuates Corsica, which means Portoferraio, and 'all other islands and fortresses she has occupied in the Adriatic and Mediterranean'. And, across the Atlantic, we restore St Pierre and Miquelon to Bonaparte so his fishermen have a base . . .'
'Can I return to Volterra?' Gianna asked flatly.
Ramage gestured at his father, who was obviously leaving him to answer. 'Well, once the ratifications are signed, legally we are at peace with France and British subjects will be free to travel. Dozens will flock to Paris and Rome, I expect. But Bonaparte is going to keep the Republic of Genoa, Piedmont, Tuscany ... all the Italian states, including Volterra. At least, that's what the newspapers say, and I think they must have been given special information.'
'That doesn't answer my question, caro...'
He knew it did not; he was trying to evade it. 'You are the ruler of Volterra by right, custom, tradition and the will of the people. But Bonaparte invaded it - along with most of the rest of Italy - and this peace they are signing still leaves the French in occupation. I can't see Bonaparte allowing the rightful ruler back into any country he is occupying.'
'Why not? It is my Kingdom!'
'That would be sufficient reason for him to refuse . . .'
'This Bonaparte - he would be afraid that I would rally my people and throw out the French?'
'Darling, you might - and would, I am sure - rally your people, but you could never throw out the French.' He loved the way she always referred disdainfully to 'this Bonaparte', but the habit could be dangerous. 'You must not underestimate 'this Bonaparte'. His armies probably total a million men. You'd be lucky to raise an army of a thousand -'
'Nico!' she said angrily. 'Many more than that!'
'Cara, you must be realistic,' he said, choosing his words very carefully: he wanted to convince her, but if she lost her temper it was impossible to reason with her. 'While you have been in exile, the French will have set up a government, as they did in Genoa, and new leaders will have emerged in Volterra prepared to work with them. There -'
'You are not suggesting my people would cooperate -'
'I am not suggesting it, I am telling you. There are always men who cooperate with an occupation army. If Bonaparte had ever occupied Britain there would be men – perhaps even people you know - eager to cooperate to get some personal advantage. It is the same in Volterra. Some of those who did not choose to escape with you when Bonaparte's Army of Italy marched in - why did they stay?'
He waited for the question to sink in. After several long moments she said: 'They had land, family, responsibilities...'
The Countess said: 'Gianna, you know that's not entirely true; you've complained to me about some that you suspected were staying to collaborate with the French.'
Gianna nodded miserably. 'Yes, but it is hard to believe people can be so wicked!'
Ramage said harshly: 'They can be and they are. Bonaparte obviously set up a puppet government in Volterra formed by people you know. If they heard you were coming down the Via Aurelia in your carriage, you'd meet with a fatal accident before you were within a hundred miles of the city gates.'
'But supposing I keep my arrival secret?'
'Assassins would find you in the palace corridors.'
'Then why did not the British insist that Bonaparte withdraw his armies from Italy?'
'We are not strong enough. When a peace treaty is being negotiated, the country with the biggest army and navy has the most say.'
'But you have just been saying that Hawkesbury -'
'Yes,' Nicholas interrupted, 'Bonaparte has the biggest army, but we have the biggest navy, and our blockade of France has left his dockyards empty of timber to build and repair ships, rope and canvas. France is short of food. That's why Bonaparte started the peace talks: he wants a year or two of peace.'
'A year or two?' Gianna exclaimed. 'Then what happens?'
'As soon as his warehouses are restocked Bonaparte will declare war again. There are still places for him to conquer. Britain, for example, quite apart from Egypt and India.'
'Then why does Britain accept his terms? Why negotiate? Why not continue the war?'
'Because this present government is weak and doesn't believe we can finance the war any longer.'
'Finance it! Which would Addington and Hawkesbury prefer - to be bankrupt or prisoners of Bonaparte?'
The Admiral coughed and everyone glanced at him. 'The fact is,' he said, 'most of the present government don't have the imagination to see that ultimately that's the choice. The people in the country towns and villages can understand it, but not the Addingtons and Hawkesburys. Pitt has many faults, but when he's sober he is a brilliant treasurer.'
By now Gianna was weeping and both had the embarrassed attitude of men facing tears. Nicholas deliberately avoided saying anything to comfort her because the 'this Bonaparte' attitude had to be changed, for her own peace of mind and safety.
'So traitors rule Volterra,' she sobbed. 'Perhaps even my own cousins . . . Yes, they would do anything to hold on to their wealth and lands . . .'
'And get control of yours, too,' the Admiral said quietly. 'That is why people collaborate with an enemy - for power and material gain.'
Two days later a letter arrived at Palace Street from the Secretary of the Admiralty, telling Ramage to report to the First Lord next morning at ten o'clock. Evan Nepean, the Secretary, gave no hint at what Earl St Vincent wanted to see Captain the Lord Ramage about, but it was typical of the irascible old admiral that he insisted on using Ramage's title.
Gianna was sure Ramage was to be sent to some distant part of the world with news of the peace, but both Ramage and the Admiral thought it more likely that the First Lord, as a gesture towards Admiral the Earl of Blazey, was seeing his son personally to tell him that once the ratifications had been exchanged - within two weeks at most, unless Bonaparte thought of more outrageous demands - half the Navy's ships were to be paid off and their officers put on halfpay.
'You have to admit that you have no experience of the Navy in peacetime, Nicholas,' his father said. 'I have, and looking at your service - where you've been able to pack more action into a very few years than any half dozen officers normally experience in a lifetime - I can't see you being able to put up with the boredom.
'Yes,' he said, noting his son's raised eyebrows, 'sheer boredom. The Navy in peacetime is concerned with filling in the right number of the correct forms punctually, doing every sail order in the signal book in the minimum time, and covering the maximum amount of ship with the minimum of paint. Your service in command of a frigate will probably comprise dancing attendance on an admiral who has enough political 'interest' to keep himself employed.
'At sea you and the rest of the squadron or fleet will be in company with the flagship. When the admiral says tack, you tack; when the admiral says wear, you wear. Everything you do, as the ship's captain, will be governed by a signal from the flagship, from hoisting your colours by the flagship's drumbeat at daybreak to lowering them at her drumbeat at sunset.
'In port - which will be most of the time - you will dance attendance on the commander-in-chief, for several reasons. You are a very 'eligible' bachelor, and the admiral's wife will have at least a dozen young daughters or protégées she considers suitable matches for you. You have a certain fame as a fighting officer, so you will be required to attend all social functions arranged by the admiral and his lady to give ton which the proceedings would otherwise lack. And you should remember that one word spoken out of place could lose you your command: for every ship in commission in a peacetime Navy, there are twenty captains on
