Peace of Amiens - 21. Chapter 21

November 12, 1801

LeHavre, France

“We will be ready to leave as soon as you finish breakfast, my lord,” Winkler said, trying not to show how frantic he was from running around and getting things organized. Today was the day they would start their trek to Paris.

“That is excellent work, Winkler,” Granger said. He entered the dining room and found it empty but for Caroline, Cornwallis and Daventry.

Cornwallis always wore his uniform, even when he was aboard ship. It was as if he never relaxed. Granger studied the man who was quite fat, although the length of his face helped stretch it out a bit. There was no hope for his stomach. His uniform, in contrast, looked quite well-made but was very old-fashioned. The scarlet coat was lined with gold lace, much more than admirals had. Beneath that he wore a white waistcoat and breeches, as well as white stockings. That bright white color took a considerable amount of effort to achieve. “I am annoyed that you are leaving me behind like so much unwanted cargo,” Cornwallis complained. He was an accomplished whiner.

“Monsieur Talleyrand sent a coach for Caroline and me and noted that you would arrive by a different conveyance,” Granger said. “You were not invited to join us.”

“I doubt that my traveling with you would be a faux pas,” he replied obstinately.

“In fact, I think it would,” Granger said. “It is clear that Talleyrand is trying to keep my presence separate from that of your delegation.”

“I see no reason for him to do that,” Cornwallis groused.

Daventry eyed Cornwallis with an attitude of combined arrogance and disdain. He stood there with perfect poise, looking very handsome in his black jacket and tan pants. “The reason is quite simple. You are here to negotiate a treaty, while Lord Brentwood is here as a personal friend of Monsieur Talleyrand,” Daventry said. “He does not want to tie Granger to the treaty.”

“Yet it is interesting to explore the deeper meaning,” Caroline said. “Is he protecting George because he is worried the treaty negotiations will turn into bedlam?” Caroline was quite charming and had excellent manners, but it was clear that Cornwallis was starting to annoy even her.

“That is a distinct possibility,” Daventry said, as he put his hand on his chin as if to more fully ponder things.

“I think it is more likely that he wants to distance the delegation from me in the hopes that Bonaparte won’t shift his target from me to them,” Granger said. “Regardless of which theory you adhere to, we are still required to take our own carriage.”

“There will be no problems with the treaty. The negotiations should be over in a fortnight,” Cornwallis said dismissively. “There are mere formalities to be worked out.”

“If that is your perception, I fear you will be in for a rude awakening,” Daventry said. “Only a preliminary treaty has been signed. When it comes time to negotiate the actual agreement, you will find yourself up against one of the most skilled diplomats in the world.”

“Perhaps Lord Brentwood can help move things along,” Cornwallis said, attempting to pawn responsibility off on Granger.

“As noted, Talleyrand has made it clear that I am separate from your delegation, and that means that I will be kept out of the negotiation process,” Granger said.

“So you say,” Cornwallis said, unconvinced. “As Lord Rugby is riding with you, does that not defeat the purpose?”

“Let us review, “Daventry said in frustration. “I am not formally part of your delegation; I am merely here to consult and advise.”

“And to report back on my performance, no doubt,” Cornwallis snipped.

“No doubt,” Daventry said, a slight hint of warning in his tone.

“How are you planning to approach Bonaparte, Brentwood?” Cornwallis asked.

“I expect that I will approach him quite formally, remembering to bow slightly higher than I would for the Prince of Wales,” Granger said to irritate the general. He knew that wasn’t what Cornwallis was asking about.

“Don’t be impertinent!” he snapped, probably using the same tone he would assume when talking to a major.

“You forget yourself,” Granger said firmly, “You reproach me in a manner that is most insulting.”

“Indeed,” Daventry commented.

“I did not mean to do that, Brentwood,” Cornwallis said. The man could be maddening, in that he could push one to one’s limit, then when he’d exceeded it, he would quite calmly apologize and reset the limit.

“To answer your original question, I have not yet made any determination about how I will deal with the First Consul,” Granger said. “I will not make that decision until I arrive in Paris and consult with Monsieur Talleyrand,” Granger said.

“I would think your best approach would be to grovel and beg his forgiveness,” Cornwallis opined. He once again went beyond the edge of Granger’s tolerance levels.

“When I need your guidance on how to conduct my personal affairs, I will seek out your opinion,” Granger said, letting his irritation show. “In any event, we must begin our journey. Besides, as you have brought your carriage all this way, it would make sense for you to use it.”

“I expect that I will arrive in Paris a few days after you get there,” Cornwallis said.

“Presumably they will have your carriage put back together in time for you to meet those expectations,” Daventry said, snickering.

“Gentlemen, let us go,” Caroline said, to truncate further bickering. It took them quite a while to take their leave of Bolbec and Guebertin, but finally they were able to board their carriage and begin their journey. “This is a lovely vehicle.”

“It is indeed, my dear,” Granger said. “It is quite generous of Talleyrand to treat us so nicely.”

“I would suspect that he will want something in return,” Daventry said.

“You do not think that my friendship is enough for him to put himself out like this?” Granger joked.

“I am willing to wager that has nothing to do with it,” Daventry said.

“You are most likely right,” Granger said. “I sense that he knows that Bonaparte’s vendetta against me will ultimately derail, or at least damage, the talks. I am guessing that peace is important to him.”

“Why would he be so anxious for peace?” Caroline asked.

“I suspect that he has already lined up several commercial ventures that will be put into place as soon as trade is opened up,” Granger said with a smile. “Those should yield vast riches to Talleyrand, and he values money before anything.”

“I feel like I am dealing with the Guild again,” Caroline joked, making all of them laugh.

“He is only a bit more honorable but much more charming,” Granger said. “When you meet him, I think you will feel as if he is from another world.”

“Another world?” Daventry asked.

“Perhaps that is wrong,” Granger responded. “I should have said a different era. He has all the class, grace, and charm one would expect from someone from the ancien régime. It is not difficult to imagine him at Versailles.”

“He sounds like a most interesting man,” Caroline said.

“And a dangerous one,” Daventry said, shaking his head. “He will no doubt run circles around Cornwallis.”

“No doubt,” Granger agreed. “It was sheer folly to send him here in this role.”

“I think that he summed it up himself,” Caroline said. “He perceived this as nothing more than a ceremonial role, one he could fulfill by signing a few papers after which he’d be lauded and fêted in Paris.”

“Instead, he will be stuck in Amiens,” Daventry grumbled.

“With you,” Granger said, taunting his friend and getting a dour expression in return.

“I am sure it is a beautiful city,” Caroline said with just a bit of sarcasm.

“I’m sure it is a lovely town next to a lovely river,” Daventry said. “I am more interested in the lovely young ladies to be found there.”

“My lord, to speak of such things,” Caroline said, acting offended.

“His lordship truly has no decency,” Granger teased as he continued to playfully jab his friend.

“Despite his inappropriate comments, I am very pleased that Lord Rugby is travelling with us. Nonetheless, I am wondering why he is doing so,” Caroline said. “I would have thought, as Cornwallis noted, that he would be better served arriving with the delegation.”

“That is a good question, my dear. I will be compelled to appear before Bonaparte and that will not be pleasant,” Granger said. “I will need his lordship there not only to support me, but to witness what was said.”

“That makes sense,” Caroline said.

“And this discussion reminds me that I am remiss in telling you how grateful I am that you are doing this,” Granger said to Daventry in a meaningful way. The intensity of their attachment surprised Caroline and made her wonder if there was a romantic link between them.

“That is what a good friend does, just as you have been beside me, supporting me when I have challenges,” Daventry replied.

“And why is Bonaparte so vexed with you, George?” Caroline asked, desperate to turn the discussion away from their sappy friendship moment.

“In addition to my role in destroying the French Mediterranean fleet, he is angry with me because he thinks I had sex with his wife,” Granger said.

“You told me that you did not,” Caroline said, although it was more of a question. Granger found that irritating in the extreme, because it was as if she was questioning his word, but he opted not to be petulant.

“I was honest with you,” Granger said.

“Then why does he think you did?” Caroline asked.

“There were rumors that Madame Bonaparte had slept with an English prisoner of war while Napoleon was in Egypt,” Granger said. “He assumed that person was me.”

“Were there other English prisoners of war in Paris?” Caroline asked.

“Evidently,” Granger responded, unwilling to share with her that Eastwyck had been in Paris with him. They rode on, traveling as far as they could before night fell.

November 18, 1801

Paris, France

“We have made excellent time on this trip,” Daventry noted. They’d only taken two carriages, the one behind them being occupied by Winker, Jacobs, Boles, McGillivray, and Dr. Jackson, along with a sizable amount of baggage. Granger had invited the doctor to travel in his carriage, and in his curious way, he would sometimes join them and sometimes ride with the others. Regardless, taking only two carriages had allowed them to adopt a very fast pace.

“It took me ten days to get from Paris to LeHavre when I last made this trip,” Granger said. “Then again, we had a couple of carts trailing us.”

“That would do it,” Daventry joked. They stopped talking as the coach drove through the gates to Talleyrand’s townhouse on the Rue de Bac. Granger smiled, because it was just as he remembered.

“This looks lovely,” Caroline said.

“Unlike many of the homes and palaces in France, this one is kept in pristine condition,” Granger said. The coachman braked and brought the vehicle to a halt, while footmen hurried forward to hand them down. Caroline emerged first, followed by Granger and Daventry, then they made their way up to the entrance of the house.

The doors opened almost magically, and beyond them stood Talleyrand’s butler, Servienne. When he was last here, Granger had grown to appreciate this man with his cool and calm efficiency. “Welcome back, my lord.”

“It is good to see you,” Granger said warmly. “This is my wife, the Countess of Brentwood, and my dearest friend, the Earl of Rugby.”

“His Excellency is pleased to receive you in his drawing room, while we will work with your staff to integrate them into our household, my lord,” Servienne said.

“That is most kind of you,” Granger replied, then followed him into the drawing room that appeared unchanged since his last visit.

Servienne announced them, prompting Talleyrand to rise up to greet them, which he managed to accomplish in a truly graceful way, despite the fact that he had a clubfoot. “Lord Brentwood, I cannot express how glad I am to see you,” he said, and stepped forward, taking Granger’s hands in his, a singularly intimate gesture.

“I have missed Your Excellency, but I treasure your letters which make me feel as if I had never left Paris,” Granger said with just as much charm. “Would you allow me to introduce my companions?” They’d been announced, but a more formal greeting was appropriate in this situation.

“But of course,” he said with a flourish.

“This is my wife, Caroline, Countess of Brentwood,” Granger said.

Caroline did a perfect curtsy, to which Talleyrand gave the slightest of gestures with his right eyebrow to signal his approval. He then bowed, moving so fluidly it was almost mesmerizing, and kissed Caroline’s hand. “What an honor it is to meet Your Excellency,” Caroline said in a slightly stunted way. Her French was good, but she was not nearly as fluent as Granger and Daventry. “I cannot thank you enough for how you helped my husband return to England.”

“The little assistance I gave to his lordship was well repaid by his company. I must say that the rumors of your beauty were woefully inadequate to describe your ladyship,” he responded, flirting with her in his overt style. “I can see now why Lord Brentwood was in such a hurry to get home.”

“Your Excellency is too kind,” Caroline said, and seemed almost nervous, as if she were a child greeting a prince.

“I think you will enjoy Paris, but I am sure Paris will enjoy you even more,” Talleyrand said, then focused on Granger’s other companion.

“Your Excellency, this is my dearest friend, Charles Daventry, Earl of Rugby,” Granger said.

“Your Excellency has often been described as a man who represents the elegance of France, and I can see why that is true,” Daventry said, bowing formally.

“The famous Lord Rugby,” Talleyrand mused. “Interestingly, you are not formally a diplomat; yet your skills have eclipsed those of us who have styled ourselves thusly.”

“Your Excellency flatters me,” Daventry said.

“I hope I have not inconvenienced you by bringing Lord Rugby with me,” Granger said to Talleyrand. “I wish for him to support me when I am ultimately received by the First Consul.”

“Lord Rugby’s presence is not an inconvenience; it is a joy.” Talleyrand said. “And as the First Consul can be a most volatile person, it is wise to have someone backing you up.”

“Thank you,” Granger said, smiling at this man that he considered a friend, but that he could not trust.

“I am sure that after the rigors of your journey you will want some time to settle in,” Talleyrand said. “I have an engagement that unfortunately prevents me from remaining here and enjoying your company, but I have left orders for the staff to prepare supper for you.”

“That is most kind, Your Excellency,” Caroline said in her most flirtatious way.

“I have made sure my morning tomorrow is clear for us to confer,” he said to Granger. “I am hoping I will be able to get an appointment for you to call on the First Consul within the next few days.”

“I am most grateful for your efforts,” Granger said. They bowed or curtsied to each other, then Granger and his party left the room, allowing the footmen to lead them to their bedrooms. Caroline had a lovely suite across the hallway from Granger’s, while Daventry occupied the same room as Eastwyck had.

“This is right nice, my lord,” Winkler said as he surveyed Granger’s set of rooms.

“These are the same rooms I stayed in when I was last here,” Granger explained. “There is a wonderful advantage in that there is a bathtub in that room.” Granger gestured to one of the doors.

“Will you want a bath, my lord?” Winkler asked.

“Perhaps after supper,” Granger replied. “You will have to let the staff know so they can obtain water that does not come from the Seine. They should be familiar with that process because they did it that way when I was last here.”

“I will attend to that, my lord,” he said.

Granger gave him some coins. “To reward them for their efforts.”

“Of course, my lord,” he said with a smile, then vanished, leaving Granger in this suite with so many memories. He walked into his bedroom and smiled, thinking of how much fun he’d had here with Eastwyck. The man had been a sexual dynamo and had used his body to heal Granger’s soul as they had endured captivity in France. He looked at the bookshelf and saw that the same books he’d been reading were still here, so he picked one up and perused it until it was time for supper. After that, he indulged himself with a bath and slept quite soundly in the familiar bed.

November 18, 1801

Rue du Bac

Paris, France

Granger had woken up early, as was his habit, and had spent those early hours strolling about Talleyrand’s house. There were small changes to the décor, but it was much as it had been when he had left it. The staff had made him breakfast, which was quite thoughtful since it would have been easier to wait for Caroline and Daventry. Granger made sure to let them know how much he appreciated their good care.

He had just finished and stood up from the dining room table when Servienne walked in. “Good morning, my lord.”

“A good morning to you as well,” Granger said pleasantly. “I am wondering if Monsieur Talleyrand has arisen yet?”

“His Excellency is reviewing correspondence in his bedchamber, my lord,” Servienne explained. Talleyrand worked quite diligently, but one almost never saw him doing it because he did most of his laboring in his bedroom, reviewing documents and dictating to aides. “If you would not find such an environment inappropriate, he has bidden you to call on him.”

“With pleasure,” Granger said. He followed Servienne up the stairs and into the palatial suite that constituted Talleyrand’s bedroom.

“Your Excellency, Lord Brentwood has agreed to call on you,” Servienne said.

“Thank you,” Talleyrand said politely, then snapped at his aides. “Leave us.”

“Your Excellency,” Servienne said, then they exited. The aides left with much less dignity than Servienne exhibited.

“I must thank Your Lordship for calling on me in my boudoir,” Talleyrand said.

“I remember that some of our best conversations were had in this very room,” Granger said. He sat next to the wily diplomat without invitation because he had earned that level of informality during his last visit.

“I have so looked forward to your visit,” he said.

“I have as well, especially since this time I arrive not as a prisoner of war, but as your guest,” Granger responded.

“On the one hand that is a very positive change, but on the other you will have to deal with Bonaparte, and that will not be very pleasant,” he said more softly. It was likely that his house was well supplied with spies, but his soft tone was less about avoiding being overheard than making Granger feel as if Talleyrand was confiding secret information to him. The man was quite adept at manipulating people.

“I have heard much of him, but I have met him only once, and that encounter was quite brief,” Granger replied, matching Talleyrand’s volume.

“One of the finer arts of diplomacy is good communication, but unfortunately the First Consul is lacking in that area,” Talleyrand cautioned. “You will find that he is a narcissist and has a regrettable habit of raising his voice to get his point across.”

“I have heard rumors to that effect,” Granger said smiling. “I did not have carnal relations with Madame Bonaparte, so I can pledge my word to him without reservation.”

“It is quite possible that he will not accept such a pledge,” Talleyrand said.

Granger raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You are telling me that it is quite likely he will question my honor?”

“I am saying that it is a possibility,” Talleyrand said.

“Then I shall have to challenge him to a duel,” Granger said seriously, then laughed when he saw that Talleyrand had believed him for a second.

“Fighting a duel with a head of state with whom one’s country is trying to negotiate a peace treaty is most likely not a good idea,” Talleyrand said with his wily smile. “It would start the peace off on a bad footing, especially if you were to prevail.”

“I will endeavor to be patient, nonetheless,” Granger said.

“That is a good idea up to a point,” Talleyrand said.

“Indeed?” Granger asked.

“Bonaparte will often overplay his hand by giving in to his temper and find that he has stuck his neck out a bit too far,” he said. “In that case, it is important not to back down.”

“You are suggesting that there is a proverbial red line and if he crosses that, I must become more aggressive?” Granger asked.

“He is a warrior, so he respects strength,” Talleyrand said. “He will be probing you to try to discover your weaknesses. If you do not respond, he will conclude that you do not warrant his attention.”

“He sounds much like a schoolyard bully,” Granger said.

“That is not a bad analogy,” Talleyrand said. “I am not suggesting that you be disrespectful, but I am advising you that if he becomes offensive, you must call him on his behavior.”

Granger pondered his words, then smiled, surprising this accomplished statesman. “When I was in Russia, I found that it was helpful to be less tactful and more assertive. Perhaps such an approach would work in this situation as well.”

“The Russians are known for their bluster,” Talleyrand said, then chuckled. “I am confident that you will be able to handle your interview quite well, especially since you are largely immune from his wrath.”

“You do not think he will spirit me off to Vincennes to face a firing squad?” Granger asked playfully.

“I do not,” Talleyrand said. “Your travels have made you known to people with whom France needs to remain on good terms, most notably the Russians and, to a lesser degree, the Spanish. In addition, your reputation precedes you to the extent that even in places where you are not loved, you are at least respected.”

“I think that Your Excellency is indulging in flattery to the point that your words are untrue,” Granger joked.

“I am not,” Talleyrand said flatly. “I am telling you that you have some insurance against the First Consul because you have powerful friends who would create quite a firestorm if you were to come to harm at his hand. It is much the same as it was when you regrettably contracted the fever during your last visit and the Directory was concerned lest you die on their watch.”

“I am hoping that considerations such as that will prove unnecessary,” Granger said.

“I think you will be disappointed in that assumption,” he said.

“In essence, you are telling me that I should stand up for myself and not worry unduly about the consequences to be inflicted on my person,” Granger mused.

“That is a way to look at it,” he said.

“I appreciate your counsel as always, but even without that knowledge, I am not afraid of your general,” Granger said.

“I could not conceive that you would be,” Talleyrand said.

“When am I to meet with Monsieur Bonaparte?”

“Tomorrow at 10:00 in the morning,” Talleyrand said. “I would recommend that you wear your uniform with as many of your honors as feasible.”

Granger went back to his room and briefed Winkler on what he would require for his uniform, then lay on the bed and continued to read his book. Winkler prompted him in time for dinner. Granger exited the room to find Caroline just leaving hers. “My dear,” he said as he offered her his arm.

“I have felt so bad for how much you had to endure when you were captured, but seeing this place I am less sympathetic,” she said, making them chuckle.

“Speaking of endurance, you are about to experience a dinner with Monsieur Talleyrand,” he said.

“And what would make this different than a dinner with the Duke of Sunderland?” Caroline asked.

“It will be pleasant, the food will be amazing, but it will be very long,” Granger said. “Dinner with Talleyrand is not measured in minutes; it is measured in hours.”

“Thank you for that warning, although I’m not sure how much good it will do me now,” she said, since they were about to enter the dining room. Granger was surprised to see that Daventry was already there.

“I did not think you could get more beautiful, Lady Brentwood, but you have proven me wrong,” Talleyrand said as he kissed her hand.

“I must thank Your Excellency for your kind words,” Caroline said as she curtsied. They took their seats at the table and the meal began, moving as fast as a tortoise.

“I am hoping that you will join me this evening, but you are under no obligation to do so,” Talleyrand said.

“Where are you going?” Granger asked.

“I have promised Madame de Staël that I would attend her salon tonight,” Talleyrand said. Granger had gotten to know this formidable woman when he’d been here as a prisoner. She had tried to help him get paroled, but her efforts were never successful.

“I would be delighted to join you,” Granger said.

“I think that is most wise,” Talleyrand said with a smile. “If she were to find that you were here and did not go, I suspect you might be exposed to one of her tongue lashings.”

“That is surely something to avoid,” Granger said ruefully, thinking of how loud Madame de Staël could be. Caroline and Daventry agreed to accompany them.

After dinner, Granger led his small party up to his suite. “You had told me that Monsieur Talleyrand’s dinners were long; yet he was so charming it seemed as if time passed quickly,” Caroline said.

“It was still very long,” Daventry noted with a scowl, making them laugh. “Tell us about this woman, Madame de Staël.”

“She is fabulously wealthy. She is the daughter and heir of Jacques Necker, who was a banker and twice served as the Minister of Finance under Louis XVI,” Granger said. “As you may imagine, she is used to getting her way and can be a bit brash when someone puts an obstacle in front of her.”

“She sounds quite charming,” Daventry said skeptically.

“She is very charming, and she is also quite intelligent,” Granger said. “She likes to surround herself with learned people, and even someone as brilliant as you may find it difficult to keep up with her.”

“That is unlikely,” Daventry said with disdain, amusing his fellow Britons.

“I had hoped that we were going to an enjoyable party; yet you have now convinced me that it will be no more exciting than attending a university lecture,” Caroline jested.

“I think, my dear, you will find plenty of people to amuse you,” Granger said, and raised an eyebrow.

“We will see,” she said. They returned to their own rooms to get ready for their outing, then ultimately re-assembled in Talleyrand’s drawing room.

“You are all dressed so well I fear you will shame the others,” Talleyrand lied. “That is especially true for your ladyship.”

“The two of you are dressed almost alike,” Daventry noted. Caroline was wearing a light grayish-blue gown, one that almost matched Talleyrand’s jacket. Granger noticed that Caroline had opted to wear her diamonds, and the sparkling gems combined with the color of her dress almost made her appear icy, but the fact that they did not, made her look that much better.

“That is a high compliment you pay me, Lord Rugby,” Talleyrand said. He led them out to his carriage for the brief ride to the salon of Germaine de Staël.

As soon as their names were announced, Madame de Staël hurried over to greet them, focusing on Granger. “Welcome, my lord. It is so good to see you.”

“I am honored to be, once again, in your presence, Madame,” Granger said with a charming smile. He then introduced Caroline and Daventry.

“I am so glad you survived the machinations of the Directory,” she said with a scowl.

“And I must tell you how grateful I am for your efforts on my behalf,” Granger replied. Before their conversation could continue, he saw a familiar face behind her, one that he had not expected to see here in France. She followed his eyes and smiled.

“My nephew, Ernst, has been telling me all about your encounter in Stockholm,” she said, prompting the handsome young man to step forward.

“What a pleasure to see you here, my lord,” he said, then turned to Caroline. “I am glad I am here to welcome your ladyship to Paris. I am Count Ernst de Staël von Holstein.”

“Charmed to make your acquaintance,” Caroline said, flirting with him. Granger could hardly blame her. Von Holstein had blond hair that was slightly lighter than his own, along with a narrow face that seemed to form almost a triangle as it approached his chin, which was incongruously round. When von Holstein smiled, his face gave up its narrow, triangular shape and became much rounder. Von Holstein was one of His Swedish Majesty’s Gentlemen, which was the equivalent of being one of His Britannic Majesty’s Gentlemen of the Bedchamber. He was a man of much influence in Stockholm, despite his youth, for he must have been about Granger’s age or perhaps a bit younger.

“I am the one who is charmed,” he replied, then focused entirely on Granger. He saw that irritated Caroline and found it amusing. The Count had flirted with him suggestively when they’d met in Stockholm, but Granger had not responded in a way as to encourage von Holstein to explore that avenue. He had been trapped at a passively hostile Court in Sweden, and was too guarded to allow a liaison that could have caused him diplomatic problems. Now that he was here in Paris, where Swedish politics were seemingly remote, he was reevaluating that decision.

“My lady, perhaps we can mingle while his lordship catches up with his old friends,” Daventry said smoothly.

“I would be delighted, my lord,” Caroline said, and then the crowd around them vanished, leaving Granger alone with this handsome Swedish count.