Madame Récamier, born Juliet Bernard in Lyon in 1777, was now twenty-four years old. Her father had been a notary, and she had spent her childhood in a convent. At sixteen, she married Jacob Récamier, a Lyon banker twenty-seven years her senior.
She was beautiful and elegant. In this frivolous, degenerate age, she was like a white flower in a salon.
She was a Neoclassicist, often dressed in long white gowns and reclining gracefully sideways on a boat-shaped chaise with a fixed backrest. This kind of chaise had become fashionable because of her and was known as a "Récamier." Georgiana had one in her room now.
According to the intelligence Brune had provided, that woman could hold the same pose for hours without moving an inch. She was the perfect model in any painter's eyes.
Her skin was so pale and translucent that one could almost see blood flowing through her veins. Her lips were lovely, and her small mouth was always slightly open, revealing neat, pearly teeth like seashells.
She took the initiative to befriend women and invite them into her home. No one in her social circle had a bad word to say about her.
That was precisely why Georgiana was so furious.
Oh, and her name was Juliet!
Who was her Romeo?
At Madame Récamier's home, she had also discovered quite a few pieces of furniture with lion legs. That was Napoleoni's mark. Georgiana felt less like a wife catching her husband in an affair and more like a "girlfriend" catching her lover in a lie.
She herself was hardly spotless. What right did she have to condemn Madame Récamier?
It was perfectly normal for a great banker to offer up his beautiful wife to someone powerful like Napoleon in order to protect his family fortune. Yet