Josephine turned from the fireplace. She knew Napoleon’s sentimental claptrap when she heard it, even via another’s voice.

‘Is that what you believe?’

The Duc d’Otrante blushed.

Josephine saw the old man’s unease and felt pity for him. She understood how impossible it was to be oneself when tasked by Bonaparte.

‘It is all right,’ she said.

There was a noise in the next room. They both heard it and knew instantly that it was Bonaparte, listening at the connecting door.

Josephine raised her voice, managed to hold it from breaking, ‘For France! But it is me he throws on the pyre.’

The divorce took place in the throne room of the Palais des Tuileries. Inside, it was dark and gloomy as a church. Napoleon sat solemn and lost to his thoughts, flanked by Maréchal Murat on the left, Eugène on his right. He’d just spoken (‘God only knows how much this has cost my heart’) and signed the act of annulment.

The Empress, dressed in white, stood with her daughter Hortense before the table draped in rich green velvet, where the Duc d’Otrante held the divorce act that now awaited her signature. The Bonaparte family sat in the spectator chairs behind her (‘Good riddance,’ Bonaparte’s sister, Pauline, had whispered) along with the maréchals, Bessières and Ney, and there was Talleyrand too, of course, and a few other minor officials. Josephine could feel their eyes upon her as she signed the act. And then it was done.

Later, alone together in Bonaparte’s chambers, they held each other.

‘Be brave,’ he said. ‘I will always be your friend.’

He left her Malmaison. She would be free to retain her title and all her jewels and would be assured an annual allowance of some three million francs. He would honour all her debts. Her Paris residence would be at the Palais de l’Élysée.

But there were demands, too.

Josephine was to withdraw from public life and desist from scandalous behaviour. She would receive no special treatment, and should she be invited to an official event where her former husband was in attendance (particularly if in attendance with his new wife) she was not to expect acknowledgement from him of any kind, they were not to speak with one another and she was never to approach him.

‘I understand,’ Josephine said.

A few days later she left Paris for Malmaison, accompanied by her daughter, her household staff and her parrot. Once she’d settled in again, Bonaparte came to visit. They held hands and strolled through the beautiful gardens in the mist. There were kisses too, affectionate, brother-and-sisterly, on the cheek. ‘I am greatly saddened,’ the Emperor admitted. He visited Josephine three days in a row.

His sadness didn’t last. On the fourth day he left and returned to Paris.