Free The Last Great Dance on Earth by Sandra Gulland Page B

so valiant on the battlefield, so timid in the parlour. “As I was saying—” I would have to be firm. “Bonaparte is anxious to settle the matter. He feels you should declare yourself to Hortense—
tonight.
There she is now,” I said, pointing with my fan.
    Louis looked stricken. “But now she’s with Caroline
and
Émilie.”
    A dance would be too challenging for Louis under the circumstances, I realized. “You could invite her for a stroll in the garden.” I touched his elbow, urging him to stand. One step, and he would be committed. But that step! “Go,” I hissed.
    [Undated]
    The clan received the news in chilly silence. Slowly, Signora Letizia got to her feet and held up her glass of verjuice, her stiff index finger pointing at Hortense as if in accusation. “Now you will be one of us,” she said, and sat down.
    After, in the drawing room, as Hortense sang one of her new compositions and I accompanied her on the harp, I sensed an undercurrent of hisses, sharp glances, covert hand movements—a flurry, it seemed, of secretive murmurs.
    October 29, 1801, Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne
Chère Maman,
    What a surprise! I’m delighted. Louis is perfect for Hortense; they suit each other in so many ways. Has a date been set? Just think—I may be an uncle next year!
    Your loving son, Eugène
    Note—I’m thinking of growing a goatee.
    November 17, 1801, Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne
Chère Maman,
    Very well, no goatee!
    I’ve finally decided on my wedding gift: two horses, one a roan mare and the other a bay stallion, both sired by Pegasus. What do you think? Would you mind keeping them at Malmaison until Hortense and Louis have their own establishment?
    Your loving son, Eugène
    December 18, 1801, Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne
Chère Maman,
    You should know that the details of the wedding gown you are having made for Hortense are lost on your son. What do I know of silk and fine lace? But would it be possible to have Hortense’s portrait painted wearing the gown? That, at the least, might console me for not being at the ceremony in person.
    I’ve been getting my regiment ready to join you and Papa in Lyons next month. I regret that I can’t be in Paris for the big event—too much to do!
    Your loving son, Eugène
    Note—Hortense wrote that Pauline is unhappy about having to go to Saint-Domingue with Victor. I’ve heard it said that Papa wanted to get Pauline out of Paris, away from a number of admirers. (You can see how bored I am: I’ve stooped to gossip. Forgive me!)
    December
25—
Christmas Day.
    Christmas dinner with the clan. “I’m so happy that Hortense and Louis are getting married, Aunt Josephine,” Caroline told me, piling her plate high with pudding and tarts. “Just think, Hortense and I will be sisters, as well as bosom friends—and Napoleon will be Hortense’s brother,” Caroline said, catching Louis’s eye. “That must please him; Napoleon is so
very
fond of Hortense. Everyone is talking about what a
close
family we are.”
    December 26, early morning.
    Something in Caroline’s expression last night made me uneasy. Against my better judgement, I’ve asked Mimi to contact her spy. “I was going to anyway,” she told me with a grin.
    [Undated]
    Mimi slipped me a note this morning. “From Gontier’s nephew?” I recognized the crude script.
    “It isn’t very nice,” she warned me.
    I tucked the note into my sleeve.
    This Evinng Mme Carolin told her Brother Louis he must not marry the Old Woman’s daughter. Shee told Him Peopl say the 1st Consul is Lover of Mlle Hortense. Louis said that is a Lie, that it is not True, that He will marry Her. Mme Carolin broke
5
dishes Shee so angry.
    I’m enraged! My hand is trembling as I write this.
    December 29.
    And so, in spite of opposition, rumours and suspicion, plans proceed for the marriage of a Beauharnais, the daughter of “the Old Woman,” to a Bonaparte. The contract will be signed on January first—in only three days; the ceremony to be held