‘My dear sister,’ began the Emperor when they were alone together. ‘All this preoccupation with gaiety is causing a great deal of comment throughout Europe. You may be sure it is causing more in France. You are a Queen, and Queen of a great country. I would not suggest that you meddle in state affairs, but I beg of you, try to infuse into your behaviour a greater seriousness. We hear of your extravagance in Vienna – the jewels, the dresses, the way in which you spend your days. We have heard of your expenditure at your country house. It is fantastic’
Antoinette laughed. ‘Joseph, this is not Vienna. The people of France wish their Kings and Queens to look like Kings and Queens. They would not appreciate a Spartan Emperor.’
Joseph did not believe that. He was sure that he would be appreciated wherever he lived.
‘Your love of gambling could be disastrous,’ went on the Emperor. ‘You consort with the wrong people. That Madame de Guémenée is no friend for you. Her apartment is nothing more than a gambling den. I was shocked to see that last night in your presence someone was accused of cheating. Do you not understand what lack of dignity there is in that? And look at your hair!’
‘What is wrong with my hair? Does this style not become me?’
‘Become you it may, but it seems to me that piled up thus it is over-fragile to bear a crown.’
‘Joseph, you know not our customs.’
‘I know the ways of the world, and I believe that things cannot go on here as they have been going on. I am afraid for your happiness. Things cannot go on like this. You only think of amusing yourself. Have you no feeling for the King?’
He saw the look of pain in her eyes.
‘But,’ he went on, ‘if there were a child it would be different. There must be a Dauphin.’
‘Ah, Joseph,’ said Antoinette, ‘if that were but possible!’
The Emperor’s lips tightened. His look implied that, as with God, all things were possible with the Emperor Joseph.
In any case it was concerning this matter of the Dauphin that he had come to France.
Joseph walked about the streets of Paris in his plain brown coat, followed only by two lackeys in sombre grey.
He was noticed. It was inevitable, for no one else looked at all like the Emperor.
The citizens of Paris liked him – liked that lack of fuss and ceremony in him; that indifference to formality, which they so deplored in his sister, perversely they found charming in the Emperor.
‘Long live the Emperor Joseph!’ they cried.
He would hold up his hand deprecatingly. ‘My good people … my good people, I am sorry you recognise me. I had hoped to mingle among you like an ordinary man.’
‘How charming he is!’ they said to one another.
Like a plain citizen, he wandered into shops and bought goods. He chatted lightly and good-naturedly; he was always so eager to know about their lives, so very interested in the affairs of ordinary men.
The people of Paris felt more affection towards their Queen for possessing such a brother.
Joseph shut himself in with his brother-in-law.
Joseph, the older man, smiled benignly.
‘Well, Louis, my brother,’ he said, ‘this has been a delightful time for me. It is pleasant to see my sister in her home and to know that she has such a good fellow for a husband.’
‘I thank you, Joseph,’ began Louis.
But Joseph held up a hand. ‘You know, speaking as brother to brother, you would be more of a conversationalist if you practised talking more. You are inclined to let others do all the talking, Louis. You should make one of these ministers of yours listen while you talk. Don’t let the people shout you down.’
‘I … began Louis.
‘It’s quite simple,’ pursued Joseph. ‘Shut them up … just shut them up. There is one matter which greatly disturbs me, Louis. Now we must be very frank together. Well, after all, are we not brothers? I will make no secret of the fact; it is on account of this matter that you now see me here in France. The Queen is too frivolous, and it is clear that she is plunging into so much gaiety because she lacks more important pastimes. The Queen should be thinking of her children, Louis, not her gambling debts.’
‘If it were only possible,’ murmured the King. ‘It is the great grief of her life … and mine.’
‘Now, Louis, let us consider this disability of yours. Tell me all about it. Speak frankly. I am your elder brother, you know. Feel no embarrassment. There is too much at stake for embarrassment. There are operations – simple operations, you know – and our doctors have skill, greater skill than ever before. A little circumcision and then … all would be well, if what I have heard ails you is the truth.’
The Emperor took his embarrassed brother-in-law by the shoulders and shook him affectionately.
‘Now, Louis, have I your word that you will submit to an examination? But of course I have. You cannot so fail in your duty as to fail me … and your Queen and your country. We will give orders immediately, and the operation shall be performed.’ Joseph gave the King of France one of his hearty bourgeois slaps on the back. ‘Then I doubt not that all will be well in France.’
And such was the persuasive power of the Emperor that, before he left Paris, the operation had been performed.
It was not long after, that Antoinette was writing to her mother:
‘I have attained the happiness which is of the utmost importance to my whole life. More than a week ago my marriage was thoroughly consummated. Yesterday the attempt was repeated. I was in mind to send a special messenger to my beloved mother, but I was afraid this might attract too much attention and gossip. I don’t think that I am with child yet, but at any rate I have hopes of becoming so from day to day.’
The Court was seething with excitement.
‘Have you heard … ?’
‘It was that petite opération …’
‘Is it really so?’
‘Indeed yes. Have you not noticed the dark circles under the Queen’s eyes?’
It was indeed so. The King could not resist talking about it. He was so delighted.
Adelaide was at his side; the other two aunts not far off.
‘Dear Louis, but there is a change in you. You are a deeply contented man.’
‘I am indeed a contented man, dear aunt.’
‘It was … perhaps the petite opération?’
All the aunts came a little nearer. Three pairs of eyes studied him intently; they were like gimlets trying to probe his head, uncover the thoughts behind his eyes.
‘Yes, aunt, yes. It gives me great pleasure.’
‘It gives him great pleasure,’ said Adelaide to her sisters when they were alone. ‘Depend upon it, it will not be long before the marriage is fertile.’
Provence and Josèphe shared a great fear. Could it possibly be true? And if it were, there would be an end to hope, an end to ambition.
‘Watch the Queen,’ said Provence. ‘Watch her as we never watched her before.’
The Spanish Ambassador, the Sardinian Ambassador, the English Ambassador, were writing long letters to their governments.
The whole Court was waiting.
Provence breathed a little more easily. It was becoming clear that the new pleasure, discovered by Louis, did not appeal quite so much as hunting or making locks. A good sign. A very good sign.
Maria Theresa wrote frantic letters to her daughter. ‘Make sure that you retire early, at the time the King retires. Do not stay in your single bed at Petit Trianon.’