‘Most interesting . . .’ Napoleon pushed the file back across the desk and smiled. ‘But I’m not sure it amounts to treason.’

Fouché raised his eyebrows momentarily.‘Perhaps not. But the names of his associates, and lovers, are suggestive, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘They’re simply the flotsam of the Paris salon circuit.’ Napoleon waved his hand dismissively. ‘They present no danger to us.’

‘That’s possible.’ Fouché paused and looked straight at the First Consul. ‘But we should not ignore the risk to you . . . and your family. After that infernal device that nearly killed you on the way to the Opéra, who can say what treachery exists out there? You must be on your guard, citizen.’

Napoleon frowned at the memory as Fouché paused to let his words sink in before continuing. ‘With your permission I will have Talleyrand watched day and night so that we can have a full list of his contacts.’

‘With my permission?’ Napoleon mused. ‘And if I don’t give it, then I assume you’ll have him watched anyway.’

‘Of course not, citizen,’ Fouché replied in a pained voice.‘I am your loyal servant. I would never deceive you.’

‘I wonder.’

‘It is my duty to make sure that any threat to the government, and to the people of France, is identified and dealt with before it can do any harm.’

‘And you think Talleyrand is a threat?’

‘I doubt it, sir. Not at the moment. My worry is that he is not sufficiently discreet in terms of the company he keeps, nor in what he might say at an unguarded moment.’

Napoleon could not help laughing.‘Talleyrand is the most discreet man I have ever met! Besides, he would never betray France.’

‘No. Not France. But given that he’s a noble, it is possible that he favours the old order over the new. It is possible that his vision of France is not the same as ours, citizen.’ Fouché shrugged. ‘It’s understandable enough, given his past.’

Napoleon thought it over. It was true that Talleyrand was an aristocrat. Yet his beliefs, as he voiced them, demonstrated a radical frame of mind. Even though he had been abroad during the revolution,Talleyrand had served his country loyally since his return. It was mainly due to his deft touch that the Treaty of Amiens had worked out so well in France’s favour, and it was thanks to him that France was at last enjoying peace with the rest of Europe. And yet . . . What if Talleyrand was plotting to undermine Napoleon, in favour of the royalists? What if there was more to his social circle than there seemed? Certainly some of those named in the report numbered amongst Napoleon’s severest critics and political opponents. As Fouché had said, Napoleon should be on his guard.

‘Very well. Have him watched. But make sure that he knows nothing about it. I would not want Talleyrand to think I had lost faith in him. Just in case there is no proof of disloyalty.’

‘I understand, citizen.’ Fouché leaned forward and retrieved the folder. ‘I’ll see to it at once.’

There was something in his tone that made Napleon look sharply at his Minister of Police. There was a note of triumph there and Napoleon suddenly wondered if Fouché was genuinely concerned about Talleyrand’s loyalty, or whether he was playing a deeper game of position, undermining a potential rival in his play for greater power and influence at the heart of government. The lean face stretched over the skull and the hooded, knowing eyes did not engender trust, and Napoleon realised that Fouché - lacking public affection - was obliged to plot and scheme to secure his advancement. In the same way, Talleyrand was obliged to use his charm and wit to achieve his aims. Two sides of the same coin then, Napoleon concluded wearily. Was this how it would be from now on - a constant war of position amongst his subordinates as they plotted against each other?

‘Fouché,’ he said quietly.

‘Yes, citizen?’

‘I appreciate the conscientious, not to say zealous, manner in which you have carried out your duties. However, perhaps it might not be necessary to arrest so many of our people now that the popular vote has been taken to empower me for life.’

‘You still have enemies, citizen.’

‘And I’d prefer it if you did not provide me with any more. Understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘So tread very carefully around Talleyrand. He has powerful friends.’

‘Maybe, but that won’t save him if he commits treason.’

‘No,’ Napoleon conceded. ‘It won’t. Just make sure you have enough evidence if the moment comes.’

In the following months Napoleon regarded his chief ministers warily. Fouché continued his campaign against the rebels of the Vendée as vigorously as ever, but operated in a more restrained manner in Paris, relaxing some of the restrictions on popular entertainments and imprisoning newspaper editors less frequently. For his part, Talleyrand continued to work hard to persuade the foreign ambassadors that France was sincere in its desire for peace. His task was not made easier by the intransigence of the English and the opportunism of the First Consul. Although the British had undertaken to return Malta to the Knights of St John within three months of the treaty, the island remained in their hands. As summer ended and the British garrison remained in place, Napoleon summoned his foreign minister and the English ambassador to the château at St-Cloud that had been refurbished to act as a diplomatic residence away from the noise and grime of the capital.

In order to lend the meeting a less tense ambience Talleyrand had suggested that a buffet of regional delicacies should be laid out in the drawing room overlooking the ornate gardens. A small party of dignitaries had also been invited, and while Josephine hosted the main party the three men slipped away to a small arbour at the end of the main lawn and sat in the dappled shade of trellised vines as they talked. Lord Whitworth was tall, over six feet in height, and stiff-necked with the casual bluntness, bordering on rudeness, that seemed to characterise so many of his high-born countrymen. At least he had a decent command of French, Napoleon admitted as they swiftly moved from polite informalities to the real business of the day.

‘I have to confess,’ Lord Whitworth crossed his legs as he drawled, ‘His Majesty’s government is perplexed by France’s refusal to sign a commerce treaty between our nations.’

‘How can I agree to that, when you still remain in Malta?’ Napoleon responded. ‘Surely you can see that it is hard to justify a new treaty to my people while the previous one remains to be honoured?’

Whitworth tipped his head slightly to one side. ‘The situation has changed.’

‘No it hasn’t. Your forces are still there. A handover within three months, you said. Then you said you could not leave until a Grand Master of the order had been named. When the Pope sanctioned the new Master, you refused to ratify the appointment. When I offered to permit Neapolitan troops to provide a neutral force of occupation, you refused to let them land on the island.’ Napoleon paused and sighed.‘Lord Whitworth, France has acted with great patience in this matter, but her patience is not without its limits. So, tell me, when will England return Malta to its rightful owners?’

‘Ah, well,’ the ambassador responded awkwardly. ‘The thing is that His Majesty’s government has decided that since the initial period of three months has expired the terms of the treaty no longer apply.’

‘What?’ Napoleon responded sharply. ‘Explain yourself.’

‘It is, of course, our honest intention to quit the island. However, given that the terms of the treaty have failed to cover the present situation, England asserts that it is within its rights to retain possession of Malta.’

‘What rights?’ Napoleon snorted. ‘You have no right to be there.’

‘I beg to differ, sir.’

‘Your continued occupation breaks the spirit and the letter of the treaty and you know it.’