'That doesn't answer my question, caro...'

He knew it did not; he was trying to evade it. 'You are the ruler of Volterra by right, custom, tradition and the will of the people. But Bonaparte invaded it - along with most of the rest of Italy - and this peace they are signing still leaves the French in occupation. I can't see Bonaparte allowing the rightful ruler back into any country he is occupying.'

'Why not? It is my Kingdom!'

'That would be sufficient reason for him to refuse . . .'

'This Bonaparte - he would be afraid that I would rally my people and throw out the French?'

'Darling, you might - and would, I am sure - rally your people, but you could never throw out the French.' He loved the way she always referred disdainfully to 'this Bonaparte', but the habit could be dangerous. 'You must not underestimate "this Bonaparte". His armies probably total a million men. You'd be lucky to raise an army of a thousand -'

'Nico!' she said angrily. 'Many more than that!'

'Cara, you must be realistic,' he said, choosing his words very carefully: he wanted to convince her, but if she lost her temper it was impossible to reason with her. 'While you have been in exile, the French will have set up a government, as they did in Genoa, and new leaders will have emerged in Volterra prepared to work with them. There -'

'You are not suggesting my people would cooperate -'

'I am not suggesting it, I am telling you. There are always men who cooperate with an occupation army. If Bonaparte had ever occupied Britain there would be men – perhaps even people you know - eager to cooperate to get some personal advantage. It is the same in Volterra. Some of those who did not choose to escape with you when Bonaparte's Army of Italy marched in - why did they stay?'

He waited for the question to sink in. After several long moments she said: 'They had land, family, responsibilities...'

The Countess said: 'Gianna, you know that's not entirely true; you've complained to me about some that you suspected were staying to collaborate with the French.'

Gianna nodded miserably. 'Yes, but it is hard to believe people can be so wicked!'

Ramage said harshly: 'They can be and they are. Bonaparte obviously set up a puppet government in Volterra formed by people you know. If they heard you were coming down the Via Aurelia in your carriage, you'd meet with a fatal accident before you were within a hundred miles of the city gates.'

'But supposing I keep my arrival secret?'

'Assassins would find you in the palace corridors.'

'Then why did not the British insist that Bonaparte withdraw his armies from Italy?'

'We are not strong enough. When a peace treaty is being negotiated, the country with the biggest army and navy has the most say.'

'But you have just been saying that Hawkesbury -'

'Yes,' Nicholas interrupted, 'Bonaparte has the biggest army, but we have the biggest navy, and our blockade of France has left his dockyards empty of timber to build and repair ships, rope and canvas. France is short of food. That's why Bonaparte started the peace talks: he wants a year or two of peace.'

'A year or two?' Gianna exclaimed. 'Then what happens?'

'As soon as his warehouses are restocked Bonaparte will declare war again. There are still places for him to conquer. Britain, for example, quite apart from Egypt and India.'

"Then why does Britain accept his terms? Why negotiate? Why not continue the war?'

'Because this present government is weak and doesn't believe we can finance the war any longer.'

'Finance it! Which would Addington and Hawkesbury prefer - to be bankrupt or prisoners of Bonaparte?'

The Admiral coughed and everyone glanced at him. 'The fact is,' he said, 'most of the present government don't have the imagination to see that ultimately that's the choice. The people in the country towns and villages can understand it, but not the Addingtons and Hawkesburys. Pitt has many faults, but when he's sober he is a brilliant treasurer.'

By now Gianna was weeping and both had the embarrassed attitude of men facing tears. Nicholas deliberately avoided saying anything to comfort her because the 'this Bonaparte' attitude had to be changed, for her own peace of mind and safety.

'So traitors rule Volterra,' she sobbed. 'Perhaps even my own cousins . . . Yes, they would do anything to hold on to their wealth and lands . . .'

'And get control of yours, too,' the Admiral said quietly. 'That is why people collaborate with an enemy - for power and material gain.'

Two days later a letter arrived at Palace Street from the Secretary of the Admiralty, telling Ramage to report to the First Lord next morning at ten o'clock. Evan Nepean, the Secretary, gave no hint at what Earl St Vincent wanted to see Captain the Lord Ramage about, but it was typical of the irascible old admiral that he insisted on using Ramage's title.

Gianna was sure Ramage was to be sent to some distant part of the world with news of the peace, but both Ramage and the Admiral thought it more likely that the First Lord, as a gesture towards Admiral the Earl of Blazey, was seeing his son personally to tell him that once the ratifications had been exchanged - within two weeks at most, unless Bonaparte thought of more outrageous demands - half the Navy's ships were to be paid off and their officers put on halfpay.

'You have to admit that you have no experience of the Navy in peacetime, Nicholas,' his father said. 'I have, and looking at your service - where you've been able to pack more action into a very few years than any half dozen officers normally experience in a lifetime - I can't see you being able to put up with the boredom.

'Yes,' he said, noting his son's raised eyebrows, 'sheer boredom. The Navy in peacetime is concerned with filling in the right number of the correct forms punctually, doing every sail order in the signal book in the minimum time, and covering the maximum amount of ship with the minimum of paint. Your service in command of a frigate will probably comprise dancing attendance on an admiral who has enough political "interest" to keep himself employed.

'At sea you and the rest of the squadron or fleet will be in company with the flagship. When the admiral says tack, you tack; when the admiral says wear, you wear. Everything you do, as the ship's captain, will be governed by a signal from the flagship, from hoisting your colours by the flagship's drumbeat at daybreak to lowering them at her drumbeat at sunset.

'In port - which will be most of the time - you will dance attendance on the commander-in-chief, for several reasons. You are a very "eligible" bachelor, and the admiral's wife will have at least a dozen young daughters or protégées she considers suitable matches for you. You have a certain fame as a fighting officer, so you will be required to attend all social functions arranged by the admiral and his lady to give ton which the proceedings would otherwise lack. And you should remember that one word spoken out of place could lose you your command: for every ship in commission in a peacetime Navy, there are twenty captains on halfpay only too anxious to take over, and a vindictive admiral can put you on the beach.'

'I think you are deliberately painting a gloomy picture, father,' Ramage protested, but his mother shook her head.

'If anything it would be worse for you, Nicholas,' she said. 'From your first day as a midshipman until now there has been a war, with action, opportunity and promotion. You have come to think of that as normal naval service. But it is not. You may spend the rest of your life without hearing another shot fired, with promotion depending upon the captains senior to you dying of old age, not being killed in action . . . Nicholas,' she said with a seriousness he rarely heard, 'I do not see you as a naval officer in peacetime.'