Northern Suburb of Paris.
On the "Gem VI Model" carriage, Joseph looked over the report in his hand and said to Berthier, seated across from him, "So the British only sent another ten thousand soldiers and seventy-five cannons to Portugal?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Joseph shook his head. "That little expenditure of troops is nowhere near enough to make Grenville feel the pinch.
"Hmm, Wellesley certainly has confidence in himself. It seems we need to put a little more pressure on him."
The Chief of Staff hurriedly asked, "Your Highness, do you mean we should also send reinforcements?"
"Yes, reinforcements." Joseph nodded. "Have General Massena lead twenty thousand soldiers to Iberia. Also, have Madrid continue sending more troops. The money they got from the church is enough to support seventy or eighty thousand men in battle."
Berthier hesitated for a moment before cautiously asking, "Your Highness, but you previously said that our country should keep the scale of our involvement in the Portuguese war situation under control."
"Yes, preferably within five thousand men."
"But you just said to send twenty thousand reinforcements—"
Joseph smiled faintly. "Massena's troops may travel very slowly and not reach Gascony until the end of the year. Of course, the send-off ceremony must be made suitably grand. Have Scheller write a press release as well."
Berthier immediately understood. "You intend to use this to provoke the British?"
"Exactly."
This was an open conspiracy through and through.
France had made it plain that it was sending reinforcements to attack Coimbra. Britain could only choose to send more troops as well, and they could not delay, either. After all, the Duke of York must have already recorded just how fast the French could march in his report to the military.
By the time the British troops reached Coimbra, Massena