Georgiana fully understood the Frenchman's arrangements.
Whether it was keeping watch to prevent her from being with other men or selling out France's interests to the British, he needed Madame de Montesquieu's help to keep an eye on her.
In fact, she had learned quite a lot while staying with Madame de Montesquieu. In a sense, Madame de Montesquieu represented Montesquieu himself.
She had to do her utmost to safeguard her "husband's" dignity rather than let him abuse his authority or strength to stand up for her. Not only would that cause disputes, it would also make others look down on her, thinking she was the sort of woman who ran wild simply because someone had her back.
And more than dignity, she feared that intense sense of insecurity. Ufral reminded her of the Jacobins, which in turn reminded her of the assassination attempt on December 24, 1800. Hathor had protected him last time—who would protect him this time?
That "prophecy" had been based on historical records. The current world no longer had much to do with "history," and she feared that her interference would cause him to die young like Caesar.
Or worse, he might become Antony, betray "Rome's" interests to "Egypt," and then be killed by enraged Frenchmen and paraded through the streets.
Either outcome was worse than becoming a prisoner. She believed she could make his imprisonment very different, almost like a vacation, provided that he remained "alive."
Napoleon Bonaparte had been dead for two hundred years. How could he possibly still be alive?
Yet the effects of Waterloo had endured into the twenty-first century. Even the closed-off wizarding world knew his name.
An uncontrollable vanity rose within her. A mere schoolteacher was actually fooling around with the First Consul of France. With a single word from