If Bonaparte had to choose between Paris and the frontier, he would undoubtedly choose to protect Paris.
As Georgiana changed and went downstairs, she pondered this as she walked.
The trade treaty of 1786 had dealt a severe blow to Paris's textile industry. Factories lacked sufficient orders to operate, and unemployed workers had no income to buy bread.
Yet, just as she had anticipated, raising tariff barriers would first reduce customs revenue, increase smuggling and illicit trade, and decrease the transport of goods through legitimate channels. Shipping would be affected as well.
When she reached the hotel lobby, someone was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. It was Ledrell.
"Good morning, madam," Ledrell greeted her.
"Good morning, sir." Georgiana reached the ground floor. "Why are you here?"
"The First Consul told me that accompanying you would be my duty today," Ledrell said.
"Where has he gone?" Georgiana asked.
"Where are you planning to go?" Ledrell asked.
"I'm going to the docks..."
Before she could finish, Ledrell began to laugh.
"What are you laughing at?" Georgiana asked.
Ledrell gestured for Georgiana to go first.
She could not understand these Frenchmen. Taking Feilier and Fiegel with her, she boarded the carriage outside the hotel.
The journey was not far, since the hotel was already by the docks. The carriage stopped beside the Pomona.
She had bought quite a lot in Rouen. Aside from what had previously been disposed of in Bolbec, some of it had been brought to Le Havre and then carried aboard the ship.
Yes, she had spent a considerable sum on a complete set of mother-of-pearl furniture and arranged the ship like a suite. It seemed she really had been farsighted.
She had also bought some salted butter, a specialty of Brittany. Farmers had added salt