The Seamstress finished the remaining stitches for Robespierre’s jacket, and she slipped a knife inside the sleeve to test her work. No one would be the wiser. She hoped her other alterations would also remain hidden. His jacket now contained weapons against him as well as places to conceal those for his own use. Grateful she was to the apothecary for the special deadly package, delivered late into the night. She had treated the powder with caution, wrapped in paper so it never came into contact with her skin, and carefully sewed the scroll into the back yoke of Robespierre’s jacket. If only she could find a way for the awful man to receive his clothing that did not involve her presence.

Claire walked in through the door on the street. “Renée! Oh, Renée, there you are.”

“Hello, Claire. Perfect timing, for I have just finished his jacket.”

Claire’s face turned worshipful. “Have you dared to put it on?”

She ran a finger down the sleeve, her face hungry. She began to caress the fabric until Scarlet said, “Oh, stop. Put it on, for all our sakes.”

Claire smiled. “His power excites me. All of Paris bows at his feet, you know.” She slipped her arms into the jacket and hugged herself.

A loud rapping startled them both. “We are here to see the Seamstress.”

Before Scarlet could walk the four steps to the door, soldiers opened it and entered the room. Claire immediately removed the jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair.

The men eyed her and said, “Citizen Robespierre sent us for his jacket.”

Scarlet reached for it and held it up by the collar. “Here you are. Just as he requested. Please handle it with care.”

The men nodded, obviously more than curious about the whole situation, but they said nothing, and the first man did carefully fold the garment over one arm. “He also sent this as correspondence.” He held out a folded slip of paper. “We are to wait for your response.”

Scarlet reached for it, opening it carefully. Claire came to stand beside her. The note said, Write the date and time of the event in your special manner. He wanted it in code.

Scarlet nodded. “Just a moment.” She dipped a quill in ink and scratched out tomorrow’s date and the other information as requested. She waved the paper, the air drying it, and handed it back to the soldiers.

They watched her with raised eyebrows but knew better than to interfere. Turning, they opened the door and exited out onto the street.

Claire bounced on her toes and squealed. “Corresponding with Maximilien Robespierre. Oh! Do you suppose he would ever replace Miss Duplay with someone younger, more blonde? Or maybe he needs more than one mistress.”