Fire and Sword Read Online Free Page B

with their wares.You’d think they would be sensible of the honour I do them.’
     
    They still have to be paid,’ Napoleon admonished her. ‘They are not charities.And you must not continue like this. I could equip an infantry brigade on what you spend on petty indulgences each month. It has got to stop, before this profligacy damages our reputation.’
     
    ‘How can it? That little weevil Fouché controls all the news that gets into the papers. He’s hardly going to permit the publication of any gossip that undermines his master.’
     
    ‘Gossip is spread by tongues just as easily as it is through the newspapers, ’ Napoleon countered wearily. ‘And I will not have people grumbling about you not paying your debts.’
     
    ‘Well, it’s your own fault,’ Josephine said petulantly. ‘If you would give me enough to make ends meet you would not have to deal with those petty misers and their petulant complaints.’
     
    ‘A good wife knows how to live within her budget.’
     
    ‘What’s that?’ Josephine sneered. ‘Another pithy bit of Corsican wisdom from your mother?’
     
    ‘I warned you before.You will respect my mother. Especially while she is under my roof.’
     
    It had been over a month since Letizia Bonaparte had joined the imperial household, having recovered from her illness.
     
    ‘That’s another thing,’ Josephine added. ‘How long is she staying?’
     
    ‘As long as she wishes.’
     
    ‘Of course.’ Josephine chuckled humourlessly. ‘She makes herself at home here, and spends the days finding fault with almost everything I say or do. She despises me, and I know she drips poison about me into your ear at every opportunity.’
     
    ‘Enough!’ Napoleon snapped as he flung the correspondence at his wife.The tray struck the platter of pastries and the fine porcelain and its contents tumbled from the table to shatter on the floor. Josephine jumped back in her seat, eyes wide with fright. There were still crumbs on her lips as she swallowed nervously, staring at her husband. Napoleon rose up, stepped towards her and leaned in close, stabbing a finger to emphasise his words.
     
    ‘You will not speak in that manner again, do you hear me?’
     
    ‘Yes, husband.’ Her voice trembled. ‘As you wish.’
     
    ‘That’s right.’ He nodded.‘As I wish.You will be polite and respectful to my mother, and the rest of my family, whatever they may say to you. In spite of everything, deep inside I am still a Corsican, and my family matters to me more than you can ever know. Understand?’
     
    Josephine nodded, clutching both hands to her breast.The tears were already welling up in her eyes as she watched her husband fearfully. For a moment Napoleon glared back; then he let out a deep sigh and reached down and gently took her hands in his.
     
    ‘I am sorry. My temper is not what it was. I have much on my mind. I have little patience for the small details that every husband must attend to. Forgive me.’ He lowered his head and kissed her fingers.
     
    Josephine nodded, and her chest heaved a little as she strove to control her tears. ‘It’s my fault. I know I should show her more respect, but . . . she hates me. As do all your family. They have always hated me. I can’t bear it.’
     
    ‘Hush.’ Napoleon cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘No one hates you. They’re Corsicans with Corsican morals.’ Napoleon’s mind momentarily flicked to his sister Pauline and the scandalous manner in which she conducted herself. Her numerous affairs were public knowledge. But she had always been promiscuous. Napoleon winced at the memory of catching her with a grenadier behind a screen in his map room during his first campaign in Italy, nine years ago. He shook his head. ‘Most of them, at least. Anyway, you will not have to endure my family for much longer.’
     
    ‘Oh?’
     
    Napoleon smiled. ‘We’re leaving France for two, perhaps three, months.’
     
    ‘Leaving France?’ Josephine