The carriages set off from the courtyard of the Luxembourg Palace shortly after six in the evening. The First Consul’s carriage led the procession. Those that followed carried friends, including Josephine’s son and daughter, Eugène and Hortense. A cold night had closed in over the capital and a mantle of freezing fog lay across the tiled roofs. Even so, the streets were crowded along the route to the opera house. Details of the procession had been published several days before and the people had turned out in their thousands to catch sight of the First Consul and his wife. Many had already been drinking and the streets echoed to the sound of singing and cheers. Torches had been lit along the route and cast a rosy glow in the fog that added to the gaiety of the scene. A squadron of dragoons rode ahead of the carriages, the breastplates of the riders gleaming, and the horses’ coats shining as they snorted plumes of breath into the night air.

Napoleon was wearing the scarlet coat of the First Consul, heavily patterned with gold braid. He smiled as he waved to the crowds. He felt happier than he had in many years. Earlier in the day he had received news that the Austrians had asked for an armistice, and guaranteed to sign peace preliminaries as soon as possible. They could hardly do otherwise with Moreau’s army poised to take Vienna. At long last, peace in Europe was in his grasp. And then England would be on her own. Napoleon’s celebratory mood, and that of the people of Paris, were as one. He reached a hand across to Josephine and entwined his gloved fingers about hers. She turned to him, and even though she wore a thick fur coat he felt her hand tremble.

‘Cold?’

‘No.’ She smiled. ‘Excited. And proud. So very proud of you.’

The carriage suddenly lurched as it turned into the Rue Saint-Nicaise, pressing them together, and they laughed in surprise, and Napoleon darted his head towards Josephine and kissed her lightly on the lips.

‘I love you,’ he said softly. ‘This night more than ever.’

‘And I love you.’ She kissed him back and squeezed his hand. ‘I just wish Eugène and Hortense could have shared the carriage with us.’

‘I’m sure they are happy enough where they are. Besides, if they were with us, I rather fear that everyone’s gaze would be drawn to them. They certainly have their mother’s fine looks.’

Josephine shook her head, but smiled all the same at the compliment. Then her eyes lit up as she glanced at something over Napoleon’s shoulder. ‘Oh! Look there!’