The Duke of Angoulême glanced coldly at Arthur.‘Sometimes blood is the price of peace and security.’

‘And sometimes it does not have to be,’ Arthur replied firmly. ‘More than enough blood has already been shed.’

The Frenchman turned back to watch the soldiers with a dismissive grunt. After a moment Arthur reached up and adjusted his stock to keep as much of the drizzle from his neck as possible.

While the review continued his mind turned to the wider situation in Paris. He had taken up his position as ambassador nearly three months earlier, and at first he had been gratified by his reception into Paris society. The British government had purchased the mansion of Pauline Bonaparte to serve as an embassy and the accommodation was as comfortable as anything Arthur could have wished for; it had pleased Kitty too when she joined him in October. Since his arrival Arthur had been welcomed into the Parisian salons, and Madame de Staël had proved a useful ally in assisting him to promote his government’s case for the abolition of the French slave trade. He had even met many of the marshals and generals who had once served Bonaparte and was pleased by the cordial, and often friendly, mood which had accompanied their discussions of their experiences during the recently ended war.

But as the weeks passed and Arthur came to better know the general mood of the French capital, he began to grow concerned. The Bourbons might well be back in power, but the public enthusiasm for the return of peace and the restoration of the monarchy had swiftly given way to discontent. On several occasions Arthur had witnessed small gatherings of men in cafés toasting their former Emperor. Then, only the day before the review of the royal bodyguard, stones had been thrown through the windows of the embassy.

Nor was the news from Vienna any more encouraging. Castlereagh’s coded despatches revealed that a formal alliance between Russia, Prussia and Austria was still a very real danger. Both he and Talleyrand were striving to draw Austria away from the others in order to maintain an equilibrium in Europe. Otherwise, a new war might be unavoidable.

The Duke of Angoulême leaned towards him. ‘Time for the finale, my dear Wellington. Look there.’

He pointed across the courtyard to where the bodyguard was forming a line, two deep, facing the review stand. The Frenchman glanced at Arthur and smiled.‘Now for a small piece of theatre. Shall we see how the audience reacts?’ He gestured subtly to the officers and artistocrats and their wives watching the review on the platform behind. Across the parade ground the colonel in charge had drawn his sword and now bellowed the order to make ready to fire. Up came the muskets.