by Steven Neil
‘Go on.’
‘We will not be passing gold coin to Louis Napoleon in large sacks. That would be vulgar. Instead, the money will go into a trust in your name. The trust will purchase property. I will be the sole executor of the trust. Loans will be advanced to Louis Napoleon, secured against the properties. Provided Louis Napoleon succeeds in his ambitions and he is in a position to repay those loans, the proceeds will come back to you.’
‘I see.’
‘Good. It is an elegant arrangement, even if I say so myself.’
‘What if he does not wish to repay the loans?’
‘We think he will. It will be a matter of honour. The only reservation would be if he failed in his ambitions or if he fell out with you. As I say, I think there will be motivation enough to ensure that neither of these situations arises.’
‘Indeed. What is in it for you? Do you mind me asking?’
‘I would be surprised if you did not. I will take a management fee for my services, as trustee and executor. It will be quite modest. And, of course, I will have the great pleasure of our regular meetings to update you on your portfolio.’
‘That is very gallant. But tell me, this does not seem to have Sly’s mark on it.’
‘That is correct. He knows nothing of this. He is inclined to favour the stick, rather than the carrot. I think we are beyond that now. I trust you will not tell him if I don’t?’
‘Of course.’
‘Now, the matter in hand. I hope you will like the house we have found. We have taken a lease on it. Have a look around. I will take my leave shortly. Once you are ready, send word to the Prince. If there is anything more, send a message through Francis. I will be in touch.’
***
Louis Napoleon moves around the drawing room at Berkeley Square, taking in the ambience. He looks closely at some of the paintings adorning the walls. At one point, he moves back to take a closer look at one of the signatures in the corner of a large hunting scene. He nods approvingly, so it seems to Harriet. He stares at a portrait of Horace Walpole. Walpole stares back. Eventually, Louis admits defeat and turns away.
‘You told me you were looking for something more suitable,’ she says. ‘Somewhere the boys could be with you. I have taken the initiative. You will find me very direct. Please take a look around. There are three floors. If it meets your requirements, we can move in straight away. If that is what you wish, of course.’
‘Have I not said so? You can be assured of my feelings.’
‘I am pleased. Men can be capricious. They say one thing upstairs and another downstairs. I don’t want to press myself.’
‘You are a remarkable woman, Harriet. I am indebted yet again.’
‘Don’t feel that you should be. We enjoy each other’s company and I am in a position to make our arrangements more comfortable and to help you. That is all.’
‘Your generous nature does you great credit, but what of your needs? What is important to you?’
‘I am happy to live a modest life. Family is important to me. My son is my first priority. We share that view, I think?’
‘Completely. We are in accord.’
‘I have arranged for my son, Martin, to be educated nearby. He will have a tutor. Your sons could join him there if that was convenient for you.’
‘Thank you again. That would be most agreeable.’
‘I do my best.’
‘You seem able to secure everything you want. I am impressed.’
‘My trustees are there to look after me and they abide by my expressions of wishes. There is no obstruction. If I wished to advance something to a friend, I could arrange it without delay. Is there something more I can do for you?’
‘I have ambitions, Harriet. France is in disarray and my associates tell me that I would be welcomed back in Paris. France needs stability. I can provide that. As you may know, the call has come before, but we have not achieved success. Next time, there must be no failure. Timing will be all important. Preparations will need to be put in place. I will need resources. Those who feel they can help me will be rewarded, of course.’
‘I know little of politics. I am simply following my intuition. You will find me constant in my affections. I ask for nothing in return.’
‘May I?’ he says. He points to the staircase in the hallway.
‘Take your time.’
***
It is dusk by the time Harriet reaches Gore House. She is familiar with the layout and the rooms now, and she comes and goes as she pleases. She does not wait to be formally received and introduced, and Rogers, Lady Blessington’s butler, indicates, with a wave of his gloved hand, towards the orangery. Margaret and Harriet have, despite the essential inequality of their relationship, achieved a certain ease together. D’Orsay appears not to be in favour and is never mentioned by either of them. They both enjoy visits to the opera, although Harriet cannot bear the theatre now. They often ride together in the mornings and sit together talking in the evenings. The older woman, some thirty years Harriet’s senior, has a fund of scurrilous stories about famous people and a ready wit. It would be hard not to enjoy her company. There can be no doubt that Lady Blessington has done her best and more to make Harriet’s situation as bearable as possible. Sometimes, Harriet almost, but not quite, forgets why she is invited to Gore House. At some point, it always begins “Forgive me, Harriet, I must ask…”, by which Lady Blessington means “You need to tell me what is going on because Sly needs my report”.
‘Forgive me, Harriet, I must ask. Did everything go well today?’
‘Louis was very enthusiastic about our plans.’
‘Can any difficulties be foreseen?’
‘None at all.’
‘He suspects nothing?’
‘No.’
‘Then the cards are dealt. We must see how they fall.’
Fourteen
The Return
London, England
Paris, France
1848
Lord Normanby and Lord Palmerston meet at the Reform Club in Pall Mall to review the situation in France. It has been a worrying time for Britain, with revolution so close at hand.
‘Are we seeing the end game now?’ says Normanby.
‘I believe so. It has been an extraordinary year.’
‘Indeed. I suppose once the King abdicated there was an inevitability about how things would turn out.’
‘Yes and no. Once the mob takes charge, the outcome is impossible to predict. I think, however, that once the general parliamentary vote elected Louis Napoleon, in the department of Paris, the course was set.’
‘But that was not the end of mob rule.’
‘True enough, but the June riots were not a popular movement. More a case of extremists and anarchists flexing their muscles. Actually, it played into Louis’s hands. It meant the executive committee resigned and a state of emergency was declared.’
‘Meaning he had the chance to be elected a deputy under new elections?’
‘Exactly so. And once he is a deputy and the new constitution is approved, all roads lead in the same direction. I think we will have our man.’
***
In the drawing room at Number Nine Berkeley Square, Louis Napoleon paces. He bites at his nails. His face looks more than usually puffy and pale, and his hair sticks to his forehead in small curls. He rakes the fire. He sits briefly at the desk in front of the window and peers out into the street. Leaves swirl around the square and the few people taking the air are swathed in heavy winter coats and furs against the cold. A knock at the door brings the long-awaited messenger and seconds later, Louis rips at the envelope. His face lights up in a wide smile.
‘Good news from Paris?’ says Harriet.
‘The news from Paris is extraordinary. We are elected presid
ent. I leave for France immediately.’
‘Immediately?’
‘France speaks. She will have what she wishes. I stand ready to serve.’
‘Naturally.’
‘I must answer first to my people now.’
‘Can you spare the time to drink some champagne? We should mark the occasion. France has waited long enough. She can wait a little longer, perhaps?’
‘Yes, certainly. You will not be forgotten. I will send for you.’
‘You do not wish me to travel with you?’
‘Not yet. There are arrangements I must make. Trust me, Harriet.’
‘I hope I have been of help. In a small way, of course.’
***
No sooner has Louis Napoleon’s carriage disappeared into Bruton Lane than another liveried carriage draws up in the square. A tall gentleman, wearing a very tall, silk top hat enters the door at Number Nine.
‘Lord Normanby,’ says the footman.
‘I trust I am not disturbing you?’ says Normanby to Harriet.
‘No, I am alone. Louis is travelling to Paris now. You have just missed him. He says he will send for me.’
‘I know. He will. We have our own informants inside his entourage. He intends that you should be in Paris within the week.’
‘Thank you for taking the trouble to let me know. You have always been kind. I am grateful to you. You seem to be taking a special interest in matters.’
‘We will be seeing a great deal of each other. My role as ambassador to France is about to take on an even greater importance. If all goes as we expect, we will be neighbours.’
‘I see.’
‘I hope you do see. I wish to make some things even plainer. Her Majesty’s Government is in your debt. You have done well with our mutual friend. Louis Napoleon is as good as president of France. Only the formalities have to be put in place and we are already in discussions with his people about an alliance. I must tell you, though, that there was a view in some quarters that you had served your purpose and that you could be disengaged from your current assignment.’
‘Thank you for letting me know that, also.’
‘I and others take a different view. We think there may be further to run. We want you to go to France and see where the relationship will take you. You will continue to live very comfortably. I understand that Martin gets on well with Louis’s sons, Eugene and Louis Alexandre, and that they live as brothers together. There is even talk in France that all three are your sons. There will be some opposition to an English mistress, of course. However, we have little to lose.’
‘Am I to have a say in this?’
‘I was coming to that. I cannot pretend that you have complete freedom in the matter. Nevertheless, I am interested in your view. I will try to take it into account. I rather assumed that you wanted the adventure across the channel.’
‘You speak as if there is no danger in going to France. Do not the French still have the guillotine for spies?’
‘We will look after you. Quite apart from any arrangements the president will make, you will be invited to the embassy at receptions and ball, as befits an Englishwoman of your status and independent wealth. Lady Normanby will guide you. If there is any hint of suspicion, you will be withdrawn immediately.’
‘Can you influence events so readily? Am I not under the direction of Mr Sly?’
‘Sly cannot be completely ignored and yes, he continues in his role. However, there is a bigger picture here and he is a small cog in the wheel. You must trust me that you have friends who will continue to look after your interests. Mr Strode is taking care of things. He is most diligent. Now, what do you think: shall you join me in Paris?’
***
France has its president. Britain has its ally. In the Hotel du Rhin, on Place Vendôme, Louis Napoleon sets up an interim headquarters, while preparations are made to arrange the Élysée Palace to his liking. A rather battered portrait of his illustrious uncle hangs on the wall behind him. Louis is in his finery today. A public appearance is planned later. The dark blue jacket of a general is deemed suitable. It is rather flamboyantly set off with gold epaulettes and a gold sash, and matched with red trousers with black side stripes. His private secretary, Jean Mocquard, makes a note of requirements, as the president walks backwards and forwards, his hands crossed behind his back.
‘There is an English woman named Harriet Howard. Please grant her every wish. She will arrive shortly with our three sons. She is a great friend. We could not have achieved this return without her support. Find somewhere near to the palace,’ says Louis.
‘I will see to it,’ says Mocquard.
In fact, Mocquard has already anticipated the requirement. A townhouse in rue du Cirque, between avenue Gabriel and rue du Faubourg, and within tiptoeing distance of the Élysée Palace, is currently undergoing an extensive redecoration. Mocquard looks forward to meeting the incoming occupant. Normanby has told him a lot about her.
Not everyone is so enthusiastic. As Mocquard leaves, Louis Napoleon’s first cousin, Princess Mathilde, arrives. He has not seen her since before he was imprisoned. The pretty young girl he remembers has grown into a beautiful woman and he is pleased to see her. They engage in polite reminiscence and she congratulates him on his appointment. It does not take her long, though, to give her esteemed relation, not to mention sometime fiancé, the benefit of her opinion of his English mistress.
‘She is an adventuress, a courtesan. I am surprised you could be so easily duped.’
‘She is a wealthy heiress.’
‘Is that what she says? Do you believe her?’
‘She has been constant throughout. There is no reason I should doubt her.’
‘I think you will one day regret that woman.’
‘Without “that woman”, you and I would not be here today. You will learn to appreciate her as I do.’
‘We will see.’
***
On the rue de Rivoli sits the elegant Hotel Meurice. Locals call it “L’hotel de l’Anglais”, on account of the favour it finds with the English aristocracy. Harriet enjoys the irony of her situation. She recalls visiting her grandfather at his hotel, the Castle, in Brighton when she was a little girl. She remembers it smelled of boiled cabbage. She receives Lady Blessington in her own suite of rooms. The tables are turned somewhat when compared with Gore House. Harriet is now the more expensively dressed. She positively ripples with jewellery. Here, it is Harriet who waves Lady Blessington to her seat. It is Harriet who commands the attendants and who asks the questions. She presses for an assessment of her situation, now she is in Paris.
‘I would say that you are in a powerful position,’ says Lady Blessington. ‘Nathaniel has ensured that you will have your own wealth. Your parents are safe. Your son’s future is secure. Normanby takes a great interest in you. Louis Napoleon is in love with you. I would advise you to follow the inclination of your heart, as I did. You may be an empress one day.’
‘Empress?’
‘Louis will not stop at president. Mark my words. His course is set. It would suit you very well.’
‘I think not. Louis Napoleon is in love with me, as you say, but there are several others with whom he consorts. I make no waves and I make no demands. He is a considerate lover. The arrangements meet both our needs for now, but I have never really loved him. And I am not a princess.’
‘I have misjudged the situation. I am sorry. Your circumstances are still very satisfactory, though, don’t you think?’
‘In many ways, yes, but I still must answer to Sly. He
hates me.’
‘Forget about Sly. The world moves on. He cannot touch you here.’
‘There is someone Sly can still hurt and who I care about.’
‘You need not worry about Francis. He manages ver
y well. He pines for you, but he will get over it.’
‘It is not Francis I worry about.’
‘Then who?’
‘Jem Mason.’
‘Mason? Be very careful.’
‘You are changing your advice.’
‘Harriet?’
‘To follow the inclination of my heart. My heart is with Jem. That can’t change.’
‘I didn’t know you still carried that with you. Is he not married now?
‘I don’t blame him. I betrayed him.’
‘Surely you saved him.’
‘In one way, yes, but I didn’t tell him the truth and I promised I always would. He was the person I trusted and he trusted me. I broke that trust.’
‘You cannot punish yourself all your life.’
‘Perhaps. I am surprised how easily the lies come now. Almost everything I say to Louis is a lie.’
‘I think if we tell a man something he really wants to believe, then it doesn’t count as a lie, even if it is.’
‘You are very cynical.’
‘I prefer to say that I am a pragmatist.’
‘Do you know how many people say “You must trust me, Harriet”? Francis, Normanby, Louis, Strode. Who can I trust?’
‘I cannot answer for all of them, but I think they all have your welfare in mind.’
Harriet gets up, walks to the window and opens a blind. She looks out at the street scene and the Tuileries Palace beyond, then turns, with the sunlight framing her silhouette, to face her guest.
‘There is something I have been meaning to ask. Can I trust you, Margaret?’
‘What has brought this on, Harriet? Are we not friends?’
‘You said once that you saw me as an actress. Where was that?’