Evil in a Mask (58 page)

She smiled serenely. ‘Junot. He is something of a blockhead, but passable to go to bed with.'

For a minute Roger remained silent, considering the situation. Lisala's admission that she had had an
affaire
with Junot touched him in a very soft spot. He was well aware that Napoleon's Generals and their wives were an immoral crew. When away in distant commands, the men invariably took mistresses, and their wives, left as grass widows in Paris for many months, frequently took handsome young officers as their lovers. But he was not prepared to have it said that, during his absences, his wife was easy game for any man who wanted to jump into bed with her.

If he accepted Josephine's generous gesture, and Lisala remained one of her ladies, that would inevitably happen. Better to cut the knot now, whatever people might think or say. In the circumstances, her retirement could be put down to reluctance to continue at Court, with everyone aware of her misfortune. Within a few weeks the whole matter would be forgotten. So he said:

‘I have heard of other cases in which women's bodies rule their minds to the exclusion of all decency. But I am not the man to continue with a wife who will become known as the
Court whore. When you are well enough, Madame, you will seek an audience with the Empress, tell her that your misfortune causes you such embarrassment that you cannot any longer bring yourself to remain in her service. I'll then send you back to Paris and later, if conditions permit, to Portugal.'

With a complacent shrug, Lisala replied, ‘Oh no, my dear husband, you will not do that.' As she spoke, she picked up a letter from her bedside table, and went on, ‘This morning I received this from the Empress. She assumes that I was raped, condoles with me upon my terrible experience, and assures me that she will show her extreme displeasure to anyone who assails my reputation on account of my having given birth to a black baby. I have never enjoyed myself more than while being a member of the Court, and I receive special prestige as the wife of
le brave Breuc
; so disabuse yourself of any idea of sending me away. Here I intend to remain.'

‘In that you are mistaken, Madame,' Roger said firmly. ‘You will render thanks to the Empress for her kindness, then go. Even the Emperor cannot intervene between husband and wife. A husband's decision is law, and I intend to send you away.'

Lisala's smile was seraphic as she replied, ‘I do not think you will—Mr. Brook.'

Roger's heart missed a beat. He had temporarily forgotten that she was aware of his true identity. If she denounced him, it would be only her word against his. But some people might believe her, and that could seriously weaken his position. How big a hold she had on him he did not realise until she went on:

‘When you were first in Lisbon, you lived there under your true colours—-hobnobbing with Lord Strangford at the British Embassy, and going off to consult with Admiral Sir Smith in his ship. In Brazil, too, you were known to scores of the nobility there as an Englishman. Above all, there were those weeks we spent in England. I can give chapter and verse about your house at Richmond, your friends, your club and your meeting with Mr. Canning. It may take time for the French to check the information I give them; but they have their spies
as well. And, once they know you definitely to have been working with their enemies, they will have you shot.'

Forcing a casual indifference, Roger said, ‘You overrate your powers, Madame. The French have long believed me to be a Frenchman with English connections, which enables me to pass as one and spy for them. It would take more than a few trumped-up charges by a disgruntled wife to make them believe otherwise.'

Yet, even as he spoke, he knew that he could not afford to have such well-supported suspicion cast on him. To court that was too dangerous. He dared not risk it. So he resumed icily:

‘Your excessive lust may be due to causes beyond your control. But to threaten with such perfidy one whom you have professed to love is inexcusable. Making such accusations as you suggest could, I admit, be used by my enemies and put me to considerable inconvenience to refute. Therefore, for the present, I agree to continue to regard you publicly as my wife. Apart from that, everything is over between us. Now, what of the child?'

Lisala shrugged. ‘Do with it as you will. I was shown it shortly after it was born, and never wish to see it again. That is why I sent Josefa out with it to the ante-room. I'll not have it in here, far less suckle it.'

‘It is in keeping with your character as recently revealed that you should lack all maternal feeling,' he said acidly. ‘But, in the circumstances, I welcome your decision. The sooner I can get it away from here, the less talk there will be about it.' With a curt bow, he turned and strode from the room.

Going downstairs, he sought the help of Herr and Frau Gunther. They were a pleasant, elderly couple, and tactfully conveyed to him that, immediately after the birth of the infant, they had realised that it was not a matter to be bruited abroad. They had, therefore, enjoined silence on their servants, and told Roger that the discretion of their doctor, who had delivered Lisala, could also be relied on.

He thanked them warmly, then asked Frau Gunther if she could find a wet-nurse for the child—preferably some farm labourer's wife who lived outside the town. She said that
some might object to suckling a coloured baby, but when he told her that money was no object, she agreed to do her best. Meanwhile Josefa would continue to feed the baby with spoonfuls of fresh cow's milk.

By the following day the conference had got into full swing. On the surface all was amity. The two Emperors rode out together, exchanging smiles and compliments. French and Russian Marshals and Generals entertained one another with great cordiality. Bands played daily in the park. Minor Kings, Grand Dukes and Princes, with their retinues, patiently waited their turn to pay scrupulously equal homage to the Emperor and the Czar. The ladies from Paris and St. Petersburg competed in the splendour of their toilettes and displays of fabulous jewels. Beside them the poor German women looked frumpish and their principal royalty, Frederick William of Prussia, although a third party to the alliance, was barely acknowledged by the Caesars of the North and West. The days were given to meetings; private conversations between the two Emperors in the mornings and discussion round a great table by Ministers and Marshals in the afternoons.

In the evenings all was gaiety. From Paris Napoleon had brought the actors of the Comédie Française to perform Voltaire's plays. On other nights they enjoyed favourite operas, or attended brilliant receptions, followed by balls. In addition to statesmen and soldiers, many distinguished scientists and literary men were present, Goethe among them, who smilingly received the
Legion d'Honneur
from Napoleon's hands.

But, beneath it all, those in the know were aware that the enthusiasm for the alliance achieved at Tilsit was lacking. Then it had been agreed that Alexander should withdraw his troops from the Danubian provinces and Napoleon evacuate Silesia; but neither had done so. The Czar, too, was chagrined that Napoleon demanded from Prussia an indemnity which it was impossible for her to pay, and as a surtax, still retained garrisons in the fortresses of Stettin, Glogau and Küstrin, which menaced Russia's frontier.

The revolt in Spain had great weakened Napoleon's hand. Portugal was now occupied by a British army and, although
Junot's troops were being repatriated, a considerable force had been lost to France. Earlier, when King Carlos had cringed before Napoleon, in addition to paying a huge subsidy, he had agreed to send fifteen thousand of Spain's finest troops to assist in garrisoning Hanover. Inflamed by the news of the rebellion in their own country, they had become anxious to return to it. Their Commanders had succeeded in getting secretly in touch with Canning, who had sent a squadron to the Baltic, taken the Spanish Corps aboard and repatriated them, thus greatly strengthening the insurgents.

The escape of this contingent was a severe blow to Napoleon's hold on North Germany, and the success of the rebellion by the Spanish people had enormously encouraged those Germans who were secretly planning to throw off the yoke of the French.

In the previous year Frederick of Prussia had given his Minister Heinrich Stein virtually the powers of a civil dictator. Stein had then revolutionised his country's political system, by bringing in most drastic reforms. He had abolished serfdom, admitted all classes to the ownership of land, and imbued municipal Governments with new vitality. This had resulted in the masses now feeling that they had a real stake in their country's future. Meanwhile, his colleague Scharnhorst, at the Ministry of War, had conceived the new idea that in peace time all able-bodied men should serve for a period in the Army, then become available as reserves. Foreseeing danger to himself in this, Napoleon had forced Frederick William to sign a treaty agreeing that the Prussian Army should never exceed forty-two thousand men; but this failed to invalidate the fact that Prussia was steadily building up a great reserve of men trained to arms.

Napoleon, continuing to discount the war in the Peninsula and the ominous rumblings now coming from Germany, was still obsessed with his dreams of conquering the East and sought to woo Alexander by a glamorous prospect of adding Turkey's European dominions to the Imperial Russian Crown; but they failed to agree on the thorny subject of Constantinople.

The Czar desired to turn the Black Sea into a Russian lake,
with an exit through the Dardanelles to the Mediterranean. The Emperor could not bring himself to allow another Great Power to occupy the Porte and Narrows, lest later it might menace his operations in Asia.

Meanwhile, Frau Gunther had secured a wet-nurse for the Negro infant, and Josefa had gone with it to live in a farmstead outside the town. In answer to the enquiries of his friends about his wife's accouchement, Roger gave this information while, naturally, refraining from mentioning the baby's colour. Somewhat to his surprise and much to his relief, the discretion shown by the Gunthers appeared to have proved effective. Two people casually mentioned to him that a lady in the town was said to have given birth to the child of a Negro, but it was obvious that neither connected this scandal with Lisala. It therefore seemed that, after all, he need not have disclosed the affair to Josephine; but he was not to know at the time that gossip would not swiftly inform her of it, and he had always held that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Being young and healthy, Lisala made a speedy recovery and, greatly annoyed at having already missed several splendid entertainments, on the fifth night she insisted on attending a ball given by the Czar. When they were presented, Roger felt certain that Alexander would recognise him, so having bowed low, he said:

‘I am happy, Sire, to have this opportunity of again thanking Your Imperial Majesty for arranging my exchange last year.'

Alexander smiled and replied, ‘On two occasions while you were a prisoner, Colonel, I found your conversation most interesting. We must talk again. At a convenient time I will send one of my officers to request your attendance on me.'

As they entered the ballroom, Roger began to point out to Lisala numerous people of interest, among them Count Haugwitz. He was the pro-French statesman whom Napoleon had forced King Frederick to make his Prime Minister, after the defeat of Prussia, instead of the pro-English Count Hardenberg. Talking to him were a slightly taller man and a dark-haired woman with a voluptuous figure. The couple had their
backs to Roger but, as though impelled by an impulse, the woman suddenly turned right round. At the same moment Roger took a quick step towards her. Their eyes met, and both gave a cry of delight. She was his beloved Georgina.

Introductions followed. Georgina had not heard that Roger had remarried. After a swift appraisement of Lisala, she smilingly congratulated him on the peerless beauty of his new wife. Roger had met the Prussian Prime Minister's cousin, Baron Haugwitz, once before, at the Tuileries toward the end of ‘99. The Baron had then just been transferred from Ambassador to the Court of St. James to that of Napoleon who was at that time still First Consul. It was Haugwitz who had told Roger that when he had left London, Georgina had been reported desperately ill and so led to Roger's returning to England in record time. But neither had been aware that the other was in love with her.

Soon afterwards Haugwitz presented Lisala and Roger to Louisa, the beautiful and courageous Queen of Prussia who, while her craven husband sullenly submitted to Napoleon's bullying, was fighting the Emperor tooth and nail, in an endeavour to make him reduce the taxation which was ruining her people, and give up the important fortress of Magdeburg.

Later, Georgina and Roger twice waltzed together. Dances were too brief for them to exchange detailed confidences; but the bond between them which had existed since their teens, was as strong as ever. They had not taken three turns in their first waltz before both said simultaneously, ‘You are not happy.'

They laughed at this evidence of their life-long rapport. Then Georgina went on, ‘She is so superb a creature that I do not wonder you fell in love with her. But those splendid eyes of hers are too far apart for a normal mind to lie behind them, and about her I sensed an aura of evil.'

Roger had many times had evidence of the psychic perception which Georgina had inherited from her gipsy mother, so her statement did not surprise him. ‘You are right,' he agreed. ‘And what of your Baron? He's a devilish handsome fellow, and has both charm and intellect. In what way do you find him unsatisfactory?'

‘He was charming enough when in England,' she replied. ‘But, like all Germans, he is harsh and dictatorial at home. Still, he is no more tiresome to live with than was my first husband Humphrey Etheredge.'

‘How is young Charles?' Roger asked.

She hesitated a moment. ‘I could not have a more loving son, and he is growing into a fine youth. But he does not like living in Germany, and he misses the companionship of your little Susan terribly, as indeed do I.'