‘They’re now occupying the eastern part of the city. Mister Fox told us of the Delaunay estate, and the Prussians sent men to search the place. They found nothing.’
‘They certainly were there,’ Fox put in.
‘And it’s your belief that General Delaunay headed la Fraternité?’ the Duke asked Fox.
‘I’m certain of it, Your Grace.’
‘He’s dead,’ the Duke said curtly. ‘His body was identified at Waterloo.’
‘His widow,’ Fox went on, ‘seems to have inherited his ambitions.’
‘I met her a year ago,’ the Duke said, ‘English, yes?’
‘From Hampshire,’ Fox said.
‘Daughter of Rear Admiral Sir Philip Latimer, Your Grace,’ an aide offered.
‘Unpleasant woman,’ Fox said.
‘I rather liked her,’ the Duke said, looking at his aide. ‘Maybe a dinner invitation?’
‘Surely unwise, Your Grace?’ Fox suggested. ‘The woman’s an avid Bonapartiste.’
‘Her father,’ the aide put in diffidently, ‘was snubbed at court. I believe the family felt the insult was grievous.’
The Duke dismissed the explanation brusquely. ‘The woman’s hardly likely to assassinate me at dinner. She has manners, Fox.’ He picked up a cold slice of toast and spread it with butter. ‘So who was the man who shot at you just now, Sharpe?’
‘One of Colonel Lanier’s men, sir, from the battalion the Prussians claim doesn’t exist.’
‘You’re sure of that?’
‘Certain, Your Grace.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘I’ve been watching them, Your Grace. We recognised the officer leading the men.’
‘There was more than one?’
‘Four of them, Your Grace.’
‘A prisoner would have been useful.’
‘They fled, Your Grace. And a pursuit through the city might have meant a running fight.’
‘Which we do not want,’ the Duke said heavily. ‘Parisians are excitable, so let’s keep them calm. Gordon,’ he was talking to the aide, ‘Request the Prussians to keep a close watch on the Delaunay place.’
‘There’s a tunnel, Your Grace,’ Sharpe said, ‘from the Delaunay cellars to a tavern outside the wall.’
‘Those damn tunnels,’ the Duke growled. ‘Tell them that, Gordon.’
‘Of course, Your Grace.’
The Duke bit into the toast and grimaced at the taste. ‘So does la Fraternité exist still?’
‘Yes,’ Sharpe said.
‘No,’ Fox said at the same time.
‘No? Yes? Which is it?’
‘It’s medieval claptrap,’ Fox said.
‘Medieval claptrap can kill you, Fox.’
‘Delaunay’s dead and la Fraternité died with him, Your Grace.’
‘You know that?’ the Duke demanded.
Fox hesitated. ‘I surmise it, Your Grace. The man Collignon promised me a list of la Fraternité’s members and there were just two names on the list. Delaunay and Lanier.’
‘Not much of a fraternity,’ the Duke said caustically.
‘Their purpose,’ Fox went on, ‘was to protect the Emperor in battle and avenge his death if that should occur.’
‘And he’s alive,’ the Duke said, ‘somewhere. Any news on that?’ The question was addressed to the aide, who shook his head.
‘Somewhere to the south of Paris, Your Grace, but we still have no definite news.’
‘So what you’re saying, Fox,’ the Duke looked back to the tall man, ‘is that la Fraternité was never the conspiracy we believed it to be?’
‘Indeed. We exaggerated its potential, Your Grace, for which I must take the blame.’
The Duke grunted at that, then looked at Sharpe. ‘You concur, Colonel?’
‘I believe la Fraternité is a danger so long as Lanier is alive.’
‘I know of Lanier,’ the Duke said, sounding disapproving, ‘one of their more capable officers.’
‘His battalion was in Delaunay’s Corps,’ Fox said, ‘and from what I understand he took a few men to help at the widow’s estate. They’re smuggling wine, not trying to start another war.’
‘Then why shoot at Colonel Sharpe?’ the Duke asked.
‘Colonel Sharpe, Your Grace, has a talent for aggravating people. I ordered him to watch Lanier, and I suspect Lanier resents that.’
‘You agree, Sharpe?’
‘I think Lanier’s a dangerous man, Your Grace, and that so long as he’s in the city he must be watched.’
‘Then we’ll let the Prussians aggravate him,’ the Duke said. ‘They must watch him. We have other fish to fry.’
‘The Musée Napoléon?’ Fox enquired eagerly.
‘The Louvre, indeed. That’s your responsibility, Fox?’
‘Indeed, Your Grace.’
‘And if we clean it out we’re likely to cause resentment?’
‘I’m sure of it, Your Grace.’
‘Yet the Foreign Office insists it must be done.’ The Duke glared at Sharpe. ‘An order, Sharpe. Resume command of your battalion and assist Mister Fox. You will keep order at the Louvre.’
‘The Louvre, Your Grace?’
‘The damned French,’ the Duke snarled, ‘stole half the paintings of Europe and hung them in the Louvre, which they insist on calling the Musée Napoléon. We have a treaty obligation to return those paintings to their rightful owners. Your men will remain at the Bois de Boulogne, but you will take them to the Louvre every day, dawn to dusk, and keep order. There will doubtless be protests, maybe even attempts to stop us, but your battalion will keep order.’
‘Yes, Your Grace, but …’ Sharpe broke off.
‘But?’ the Duke demanded coldly.
‘If we’re to guard the place, sir, wouldn’t it be easier if we billeted there?’
The Duke grimaced. ‘The Parisians, Sharpe, consider the Louvre a temple to man’s highest achievements. If I quarter a battalion of redcoats in their damned temple they will be offended, and we are doing our utmost to keep Parisians calm. So try very hard not to start a war, Sharpe. Break some heads if you must, but I don’t want the streets of Paris running with blood.’
‘I understand, Your Grace.’
‘Do you, Sharpe?’ The Duke’s tone was now distinctly unfriendly. ‘You know what order is?’
‘I hope so, Your Grace.’
‘Threatening to flog Major Morris is not conducive to good order, Sharpe.’
‘No, sir.’ Sharpe was standing to attention now, his eyes fixed just above the Duke’s head.
‘Did you really promise to flog him?’
‘I did, Your Grace.’
‘You won’t, that’s an order. You understand?’
‘Of course, Your Grace.’
‘If Majors can be flogged, then Colonels can be hanged, and I will have order!’ The Duke sounded angry. ‘There will be discipline! No thieving, no rape, no provocation! We will give the Parisians no reason for insurrection!’
‘Other than stripping the Louvre,’ Fox muttered.
‘Then what do you suggest, Fox?’ the Duke demanded brusquely.
‘Make sure the theatres reopen,’ Fox said, ‘slash the duty on wine, and start importing the goods the Parisians have been missing. Coffee, for a start.’
‘We are not the civil power, but we shall lean on them. By God, we shall. Now go!’ Sharpe followed Fox from the room into the hall, where the tall man stopped. ‘No coffee left for us!’ he complained. ‘But at least we can get on with cleansing the Musée Napoléon. You’ve been there, of course?’
‘No,’ Sharpe said, collecting his rifle from the Corporal serving as the door-keeper.
‘Good God, Sharpe, how long have you been in Paris? At least a week and you haven’t visited the greatest art collection in Europe?’