Ferdinand shrugged helplessly. ‘So what am I to do?’

‘You must return the crown to your father and apologise, in writing, for what you have done.’

‘No.That is not possible.’

Napoleon smiled. ‘You have little choice, your highness. If you are permitted to seize power in the manner that you have, you will have set a precedent. What if every royal prince thought to emulate you? No ruler would be able to sleep. Nations would be paralysed by fear, Spain most of all. I tell you, Ferdinand, you would forever be jumping at shadows, until the day when the conspirators came for you. And on that day there will be no Marshal Murat and his soldiers to save you from the wrath of the mob.’

Ferdinand pondered for a moment and then opened his hands. ‘So what am I to do?’

‘You must return the crown to the King and then wait your proper time to inherit the throne. It will come soon enough. Charles is old and weak. When he is no more, then you will have your crown, legally and without recrimination from any royal court in Europe.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘There is one other thing,’ Napoleon said evenly.‘You must apologise for your treatment of the King.’

‘Apologise?’ Ferdinand’s eyes widened. ‘Never.’

‘You must. Your recent actions will not be forgotten. Would you want people to still regard you with suspicion and misgiving when the time comes for you to assume the crown? There must be some act of contrition first.You must issue a public apology and return the crown.’

‘What if I refuse to do either?’

Napoleon stared at him a moment before continuing in a low, menacing voice. ‘You cannot refuse. I will not permit it. I could easily place you under arrest and keep you here until you renounce the throne. I might even try you for treason, on your father’s behalf, and have you shot.’

Ferdinand’s jaw dropped in astonishment for a moment before he recovered and shook his head. ‘You cannot threaten me.’

‘No? Why not? You threatened your father into signing a document. Why should I not do the same to you?’

‘But you would not cause harm to me.You would not dare.’

‘What makes you so certain?’ Napoleon asked curiously. ‘I have sent far better men than you to their deaths and slept well for it.’

There was a long pause. At last, Napoleon produced a statement Fouché had copied earlier in a fair hand. ‘Sign this.’

‘What is it?’ Ferdinand asked suspiciously.

‘Your announcement that you are returning the crown to your father with immediate effect, and your apology for having wrongfully usurped the throne.’

Ferdinand laughed. ‘You are not serious! I cannot sign that. I will not.’

‘You must.’

‘No.’

‘Sign it!’ Napoleon snapped.‘Sign it now, or suffer the consequences.’

He flipped the lid of the inkwell open, dipped the pen in and thrust it towards Ferdinand. ‘Sign it! Or I swear you will suffer.’

Ferdinand sat quite still for a moment, his face fixed in an agonised expression as he stared at the pen, and then at Napoleon as if beseeching him to change his mind. But Napoleon held firm and said nothing, and returned his look with cold, hard eyes. At length Ferdinand hesitantly reached out and took the pen. Leaning forward, over the statement, he began to sign in a slow, trembling hand.As soon as he had raised the pen from the paper, Napoleon took the document away and laid it on the floor next to his chair to allow the ink to dry.

‘It is done. Now you may go.’

Ferdinand bit his lip. ‘You guarantee that there will be no revenge taken by my father?’

‘I can guarantee it.’

‘I have your word on that?’

‘You have my word.Your father will not cause you, or any of your supporters, any harm.’

Ferdinand nodded, and rose from his seat.‘Very well, then. I bid your majesty good night.’

He turned away and paced wearily across the room, and closed the door quietly behind him. Napoleon’s lips slowly curled into a smile, then he reached down and picked up the signed statement. Turning towards a partion doorway, he called out, ‘Fouché!’

The door opened at once and Fouché entered the room.

‘You heard?’

‘Every word, sire.’

‘He crumbled more quickly than I had anticipated. A disappointing young man, in almost every respect. Still, we have all we need now.Take this confession and have it published along with Charles’s attack on his son, and his abdication, in every newspaper in Paris and Madrid.’

‘Yes, sire.’ Fouché took the proffered document. ‘Will that be all?’

‘Yes. It is done. So falls the Spanish house of Bourbon,’ Napoleon said with quiet satisfaction.

Chapter 41

Even before the reports had been published in Europe’s newspapers Napoleon had settled the affairs of Charles and Ferdinand. The latter was sent into exile at Talleyrand’s estate at Valençay, to spend his remaining days under close watch. He would live comfortably enough, but in isolation from the rest of society and his countrymen. Charles, meanwhile, had hardened his position and negotiated a much better deal than his son received. A number of estates in France and an annual pension of some seven and a half million francs was the price he demanded for surrendering any claim to his former kingdom.

Napoleon announced to Europe that Murat would remain in charge of the government in Spain until a new ruler was chosen. Again Napoleon approached Louis, who once more refused to abandon his palace in Holland, and so the Emperor turned to his older brother, Joseph.

One day, soon after the conference at Bayonne had ended, Napoleon and his staff, together with his brothers, went out to shoot in the surrounding countryside. Berthier had learned from his experience with the rabbits and made sure that this time there would be no question of the event’s turning into a farce. It was early in May and the first growths of spring were bursting from every tree, while new flowers sprinkled bright colours across the rolling, verdant countryside. Birds sang lustily in the trees, little knowing that the band of laughing men passing beneath them in open carriages would shortly be turning their guns on any feathered prey that came into their field of vision.

The hunting party arrived at the site chosen for the shoot: a small hillock overlooking an expanse of flat, marshy ground.A light buffet had been prepared, and Napoleon chewed on a savoury game pie as he spoke to his brother, who was sitting beside him on a grassy bank.