Two minutes later he was in her bedroom with the door locked behind them.
In the early hours of the morning Aimec smuggled him downstairs and out into the street through a door in the garden wall that led into the Champs Elysees.
That day Roger lay long abed contemplating his position with very mixed feelings. All prospect of marrying Pauline was now gone, and with it that of some well-endowed post as a member of the Bonaparte family. On consideration he decided that the latter was more to be regretted than the former. He had never been afraid of work or of taking responsibility, so he would have enjoyed using his’ talents as the Viceroy of some French-dominated territory; whereas Pauline's light-mindedness and instability of character might have caused him many irritations if he had married her; and she was now, once again, his mistress.
It was as clear as crystal that she had married the Roman Prince only for his title, his family jewels and because he was so rich she could indulge to her heart's content in every kind of extravagance.
She had told Roger that, on the rare occasions Borghese did come to her, it was always before midnight; so at that hour Aimee could safely let Roger in by the door in the garden wall and bring him to her. If at any time there was a risk of his being caught in her room, he could go out on to the balcony and clamber down into the garden. With his happy memories of their tour through Navarre and Provence, and stay at St. Maxime, this opened a prospect that half the men in France would have envied him. But there was another side to his return to Paris which was far from being so satisfactory.
Napoleon had evidently never had the least intention of letting him marry Pauline and, instead of saying so frankly, had used his guile both to break up the affaire and to prevent it from developing into a scandal. No doubt his ambition had been gratified by his sister marrying a millionaire Prince and he had derived considerable amusement at having rid himself of his troublesome A.D.C. in a way that should teach him not to be presumptuous. But what was he going to say when he learned not only that Roger had returned to Paris but had also, as his police would soon find out, again become Pauline's lover? Added to which there was the most unpleasant fact that by this time Davoust would have had 'Lieutenant' Breuc posted as absent without leave.
After much thought, Roger dressed in civilian clothes, called a sedan chair and had himself carried round to the Rue du Bec. Having waited for well over an hour in an anteroom, he was received by Talleyrand. Gracious as ever, the Minister rose from his big desk, extended a perfectly manicured hand and said:
'Cher ami, you must forgive me for keeping you waiting but, try as I will, I simply cannot avoid sometimes having to attend to affairs of State. Where have you been all this time, and why are you not wearing your beautiful uniform?'
Sitting down in a gilt Louis Quinze elbow chair, Roger crossed his long legs, gave a rueful smile and replied, 'The First Consul decided that I should be taught the rudiments of soldiering, so sent me to Davoust's school for young officers at Bruges.'
Talleyrand raised his eyebrows, 'So that is where you were. Not a very pleasant experience, I imagine. But I did hear a rumour that he had sent you out of Paris because he was annoyed by your attentions to a certain lady.'
Roger grinned, 'So you know about that. I might have guessed it.'
'The lady happens to be one of a dozen or so about whose—er—activities I find it useful to keep myself informed. Her marriage must, I fear, have been something of a blow to you. But she was so set on it that she refused even to wait until her period of mourning was over; and Napoleon, fancying himself as the brother-in-law of a Prince, was persuaded to give way to her.'
'Well, it is a fait accompli; and on account of it I've landed myself in a fine mess. When I learned of her marriage I was so infuriated that I took horse and rode straight to Paris; so I am a deserter or, at least, absent without leave.'
'The devil you are! That is no laughing matter. What stupid things we do on account of women. Really there are times when I feel it would be wiser to become a Trappist monk and be done with them for good. But I simply could not live without these silly creatures.'
'Nor I,' Roger agreed. 'Of course, what I ought to have done was to write to Napoleon and say that now the cause for his sending me out of Paris was removed, would he give me leave to return here? As things are, when he is informed by that awful man Davoust that I've deserted he will be furious.'
'You must sec him and endeavour to put yourself right with him before he hears from Davoust.'
'I should have done so yesterday but I missed my chance. As he charged Davoust in a personal letter to put me through the mill, I count it certain that by this morning a despatch from the General reporting my disappearance will have reached him. If I present myself, the odds are that his Captain of the Guard already has an order to arrest me and send me back to Bruges.'
'That would mean a court martial and your complete ruin. Your only chance is somehow to persuade Napoleon to sec you, complain of his harsh treatment of you, declare that he has punished you enough, and plead your past services to induce him to call off Davoust.'
'I entirely agree. And that is why I am here. Would it be asking too much that you should speak to him on my behalf and induce him to give me a hearing?'
Talleyrand considered for a moment, 'Out of friendship alone I will do that; and in any case I consider you too valuable a man to be deprived for good of a place near him, if that can be prevented. I think, too, that you had best send for some things and remain here for the night. If Davoust's courier has arrived in Paris this morning, an order for your arrest may already have been issued. If so, the odds are that the Provost Marshal will go straight to La Belle Etoile as the first place to look for you. I will take you with me to the Tuileries tomorrow. But, should Napoleon consent to see you, I would not count on his restoring you to his good graces. Desertion is a crime that you may be sure he will not look upon leniently.'
Roger made a grimace, 'I know it; but if I can see him at least I will have some chance of mitigating his anger.' He then thanked his friend most gratefully for the help he had promised to give him and, a few minutes later, Talleyrand sent for his steward to tell him that Roger would be staying there that night.
That evening the Foreign Minister had first to attend a reception then a ball; so Roger dined alone and spent the time browsing through some of the beautifully-bound books in the library. Next morning there was a breakfast for eight at which many of the topics of the day were eagerly debated; but Roger's mind was so taken up with wondering whether he would be free or a prisoner by dinner time that, though he smiled automatically at the witticisms uttered by the others, he hardly took in what they were talking about
At midday he accompanied Talleyrand in his coach to the Tuileries. In Napoleon's antechamber there was the usual crowd of Ministers, Generals and functionaries waiting to be received in audience. Several of them smiled at Roger and asked him where he had been. Anxious to avoid being drawn into conversation, he only returned their bows and replied that he had just come back from the coast.
The twenty-minute wait seemed to him interminable; but at last an usher, with a list in his hand, called out Talleyrand's name. Roger had expected the Minister to go in and plead his cause while he went through another ten minutes or more of agonizing suspense. But Talleyrand transferred his cane to his other hand, smiled at him and said, 'Mon cher Colonel, be kind enough to give me your arm.' And next minute they were walking towards the great double doors.