She opened her satchel, but before she could speak, Claire began. “All in the tatting. You must first see the lace.”

Scarlet cleared her throat. “Yes, we are able to tat names in the lace, in symbols, code. And therefore send any message or denouncement without anyone else becoming the wiser. We can add it to our gowns at the hem, our sleeves, or our . . . neckline.” She cleared her throat and blushed.

Robespierre took the lace from her hands and studied it. “I cannot even find the message, and I am looking for it. Where is it? Will you show me?” He searched Scarlet’s eyes, and she blinked. Did she see actual kindness in his own?

She looked away and stammered, “Well, it is right here, you see.” She pointed out the letters and shapes in white hidden in an elaborate pattern in the lace.

He brought the lace up close to his face and studied it, following where her finger pointed. “Ah, yes! I see it! Ingenious.” He turned to her again. “You have a gift. This will save us, save the Revolution.”

“The ladies at the guillotine gave me the idea, with their knitting.” Scarlet looked down again at her lap.

Robespierre lifted her chin with his finger. “You seem a virtuous sort of person.”

She looked away again and shrugged.

“You understand what we aim to do here. Virtue is exactly what we are after. This terror . . . will bring virtue. It is the only way. If we do not enforce our laws with violence, all the sansculottes will. You saw what they did at the Bastille. Violence without law must be stopped. We bring terror as a means for peace.” He seemed so earnest, searching for her approval.

In her silence, she realized he waited for an actual response from her. What could she say to that? Even in her charade, she could not manage an agreement.

Claire jumped in. “Oh, monsieur. Citizen Robespierre. You are the savior of us all, the one who will bring about our liberation. As women, we long for the day when we too will receive equal justice.”

He nodded politely and then returned his focus to Scarlet. “Renée, is it?”

She brought her eyes back up to his face and nodded, thankful that the thick lenses distorted her view.

“What do you think?”

She swallowed. “I long for the day when France can be free. I long for justice, for peace. For a great love to exist amongst its people. That is the virtue I am seeking for in France.”

Robespierre searched her face in silence for a moment more. “You have spoken the inner feelings of my heart. Do you trust that I long for these same things?”

Scarlet started to nod her head but was saved from the most difficult lie of her life when a great pounding shook the door.

“Enter.” Robespierre stood immediately and went to the door of his small office.