The Josephine B. Trilogy by Sandra Gulland

celebrate—Fanny, my brother-in-law François (Marie is confined to bed), Aunt Désirée and even the Marquis. When the dancers leaped into the air one could see their garters and drawers. Fanny thought nothing of it, but I could see that the Marquis and Aunt Désirée were discomfited.
    November 27.
    Aunt Désirée is reading Fanny’s new novel to determine if I should be permitted to read it. I doubt that I shall—she makes the sign of the cross before picking it up.
    December 7.
    Monsieur de Beauharnais sent word that he is coming home. I haven’t seen him for five months.
    Wednesday, December 13, 11:30 A.M.
    Today is our first anniversary. But already Monsieur de Beauharnais is gone, on his way to join his regiment in Verdun. He was here for only four days.

In which I become a mother & discover a terrible truth
    Sunday, January 28, 1781.
    Aunt Désirée and I were summoned in the night. Marie’s labour had commenced. We hurried to her bedside, the horses slipping on the icy cobblestones. When we arrived, we were immediately taken to Marie’s bedchamber where Fanny informed us that Marie had fallen into unconsciousness. Aunt Désirée was overcome with uneasiness and took leave of the room, Fanny following. Soon after, the child was born. The accoucher asked me to hold the infant while she tied the cord. The baby did not cry; her eyes opened, her blue skin slowly turning pink, the miracle of life in my hands. My tears fell on her cheeks.
    The priest was delayed and Fanny was anxious that the infant quickly be baptized. I held the crying baby as Aunt Désirée poured water over her head, uttering the words, “I baptize thee.” Her name is Émilie. We pray for her. I pray for her.
    February 19.
    I’m with child again. I move with great caution.
    February 28—Brest
    Darling,
    Joy filled my spirit on receipt of your wonderful news. Be sure to do all as the doctor instructs. I have asked Patricol to outline a program of reading for you, for it is currently understood that a mother’s thoughts will produce a result on the infant she carries, both for good and for ill. I do not need to remind you that any reading of novels is forbidden—especially romantic novels. Refrain from situations that occasion strong emotions, and above all, do not go to the theatre!
    I have asked Aunt Désirée to obtain etchings of inspiring moments in Roman and Greek history to position beside your bed. In this way, by casting your eyes upon these heroic images, you will guarantee a good result. I forbid you to hire a wet-nurse as the milk will influence the character of the baby. If mothers nursed their own babies, many of the ills of society would be eliminated.
    I embrace you, ma tendre amie.
    Your husband, Alexandre de Beauharnais, vicomte
    Note—I suggest for this period of waiting you absent yourself from the company of Aunt Fanny.
    March 7.
    Fanny came by around eleven for tea. As she was going she put a small parcel in my hand. “Don’t tell Désirée,” she whispered. “And certainly not your father.”
    I’ve just now opened it. It’s Rousseau’s Confessions, which have been banned. I started reading it and was immediately shocked. I’ve hidden it under my mattress.
    March 15.
    Fanny came by before dinner. I didn’t think I’d get a chance to ask her about something in Confessions, but finally Aunt Désirée went out to see how the cook was managing with the rabbits Fanny had brought and I got up the courage. “You want me to explain?” she demanded.
    I realized from the look on her face that I shouldn’t have asked.
    “You know how certain things can… arouse a man?” she asked.
    Now it was my turn to blush.
    “Well—for Rousseau, he fancied a bit of a spanking.”
    I was shocked. “You mean…?”
    “For a man like that, carry a birch rod and make him beg, I say.” She sat back on the sofa with a maternal air. “Perhaps that’s what your Alexandre needs,” she mused.
    When Aunt Désirée returned I was