Napoleon smiled. ‘That is a matter for contemplation at a later date, my dear.’ He took her other hand and raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers softly, one by one.They kissed again, and Napoleon’s hand glided down her neck and across her cleavage before slipping inside her nightdress and caressing her breast. He felt her shudder as her nipple swiftly hardened. Napoleon withdrew his hand.

‘We will be more comfortable by the fire.’

Josephine glanced round at the rug lying on the floorboards before the hearth. ‘Can’t we go up to bed, my love?’

‘Why? It is warm enough in here, and the fire will give us light.’

Josephine sighed.‘I am tired. I want to be in a nice comfortable bed. Besides, I am getting too old to make love on a hard floor. Come, husband.To bed.’

She rose from his lap and took his hand, pulling him gently after her, but Napoleon did not move and after a moment she released her grip and looked anxiously at him. ‘What is it?’

‘I want to make love to you. In here. Now.’

‘Wouldn’t the bed be more comfortable? It’s a cold night.’

‘It’s warm enough in here,’ he responded flatly.

‘I know. But I would still prefer to go to bed, my love.’

They stared at each other for a moment, and as they did so Napoleon felt the passion for her die in him. The feeling had passed, and he felt a wave of weariness wash through him. ‘You go on first. I’ll join you. There’s something I need to finish first.’

‘You don’t love me any more . . .’ she whispered.

‘What?’

‘I said that you don’t love me.’

‘Don’t be a fool.’

‘I’m no fool, Napoleon. I have known you for twelve years. Well enough to know what you are thinking.’ Her voice caught and she had to bite her lip to stop it trembling. ‘You don’t love me. Why? Is it because of that young Polish whore?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Marie Walewska. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?’

Napoleon took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. ‘I had hoped you would not find out, but since you have I won’t deny it.Why should I? After all the lovers that you have entertained in the years of our marriage? I am entitled to whatever solace I can find when I am away on campaign.’

‘As long as it does not harm your feelings for me.’

‘I still love you,’ Napoleon said firmly.

‘But you are not in love with me. Not in the same way. Not any more. Isn’t that what you mean?’ Josephine smiled sadly and the tone of her voice cut into his heart like a knife. He could not reply, and she moved a step away from him, towards the door.