Napoleon sighed as he nodded down at the letters piled on the tray. ‘Most of these are from suppliers to the imperial household. Aside from the silk, they mention shoes, hats, dresses, horses, furniture, wine, cakes . . . In every case they respectfully state that the account has yet to be settled.’

‘They had better be respectful, the little ingrates.’ Josephine sniffed. ‘After I have gone to the effort of appointing them to supply the imperial household 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?’