‘Yes, sire!’ The colonel stiffened to attention, saluted and turned to march out of the room, his heavy boots echoing off the floor. Once he was alone, Napoleon sat a moment in silence, his mind swiftly processing what he had been told.Then he broke the seal on the leather tube and pulled out several sheets of paper that made up Murat’s report. By the time he had finished reading through the document Napoleon had decided on his course of action. One that would for ever bind Spain and France together and deal a crippling blow to British interests.

The decision to hold a conference at Bayonne had been made some months before the crisis in Madrid occurred. For a long time Napoleon had intended to assemble his family to explain what he required of them. The purpose of awarding them the lands and titles he had bestowed on them was to provide a close-knit dynasty that would bind Europe together. As it was, some of his brothers were taking their status as rulers a little too much to heart and acting with a degree of independence that ran counter to Napoleon’s interests. He was determined to make them understand what he wanted and that they should do his bidding as efficiently as possible.

The finest houses in Bayonne and the best of the nearest estates had been commandeered for the conference and every luxury prepared for the arrival of the Emperor and his brothers: Joseph, King of Naples and Louis, King of Holland. A spate of last-minute preparations were hurried through in order to welcome Ferdinand and Charles and their immediate retinues. The townspeople had never seen so much royalty gathered together before and the excitement in the town was tangible. Napoleon waved at the crowds lining the streets to greet him, but his mind was elsewhere. The coming days were vital to his ambitions for France, and he would have to play a very careful game in order to secure the desired end.

Then there was still the question of his relationship with Josephine. She had remained in Paris and scarcely a word had passed between them since that night in Malmaison. Napoleon felt his heart soften as he thought of her. She had been the love of his life, until he had discovered her infidelities when he was away campaigning in Egypt. Since then their love had been qualified and based on an affection whose strength drew more on the habit of years than any remaining physical desire and romantic ardour.They had sought pleasure in other arms for years now and had only come together for familiar and comfortable undemanding lovemaking. Nevertheless, Napoleon would not hurt her any more than he had to when the time came to find a more fertile wife to provide France with an heir to the imperial throne.