For a minute or so, Napoleon stared at the door, then slumped down in a chair by the fire and stared into the glowing embers. At first he was inclined to angrily refute everything she had said, everything that she had accused him of. As his temper began to calm, and his heartbeat slowed to a more regular rhythm, he realised that she was right, and had only put into words those thoughts and feelings that he had refused to acknowledge within himself. Now that he had been forced to confront them the sense of failure was deadening. Worse, he knew more certainly than ever that the order he had brought to France could not endure while there was no heir to the imperial crown. The time must come when Napoleon would be forced to find a woman who could provide him with a son. There must be a divorce, he accepted. But not until he had found himself a princess, of Austrian or Russian stock, in order to cement his ties with another powerful dynasty. Once he had chosen, only then would he break the news to Josephine.

Two days later Napoleon was back at his office in the Tuileries. No more snow had fallen and that which still lay across the roofs was stained by soot and ash so that Paris had taken on the appearance of a grimy, mottled wasteland.The cheerful mood that had filled the city had soon faded as its citizens huddled round their fires, or hurried through the cold, damp streets, hunched down in their coats. Napoleon turned away from the window towards the two men sitting at the table waiting for him. Berthier sat ready with a notebook opened in front of him, pen in hand and poised close to a small pot of ink. Beside him, Fouché glanced at the chief of staff with a faintly amused expression of contempt. Napoleon found himself earnestly wishing that Talleyrand still served as foreign minister. His advice and wisdom was sorely needed at present and his replacement, Champagny, had proved to be of little worth. The Emperor sighed with frustration as he took his seat.

‘Gentlemen, I have decided that the time is ripe for us to bring Spain within our sphere of control. Since our enemies have removed the fleets of Portugal and Denmark from our grasp, the last navy of any significant size that we might gain possession of lies in Spanish ports. I mean to have those ships.We can no longer count on Spain as a loyal ally. Godoy is a man whose only loyalty is to himself and he will sell his influence to whoever pays him enough gold. Charles is an indolent fool, a trait he seems to have passed on to his heir. I cannot afford to permit the Bourbons to remain on the throne in Madrid any longer.’