As the Seamstress finished the last stitch, the noise of the crowd escalated to an unheard-of level. Her eyes flew to the window.

Oh no.

Once again, the tide of goodwill among the revolutionaries had turned and the sun had set on the Society of Revolutionary Republican Women. The Seamstress swallowed and took a long, slow breath. She should have predicted their arrest to happen even sooner than this. No one remained in the good graces of the committee for long, not even the committee itself.

They fought fiercely against their brothers in arms from days ago, all Jacobins working for the same goals, but that did not matter.

No match for Robespierre’s army, most women succumbed to the force and strength of the soldiers. But Claire and Pauline and a small group of the others kicked and fought the best they could to avoid capture.

A rock broke through Scarlet’s window. With a yelp of surprise, she flung herself to the ground, clutching the gown to her breast. Any delay in this lace reaching the eyes of Robespierre was a good one. She smiled from her vantage point on the floor.

The sound of boots entering her workshop hushed her breathing, and she lifted her eyes. Men stormed in through the door.

One guard bore down on the other. “We are to bring the women without harm.”

“You try to detain them without harming them. They’re vicious, they are. Take a look at that, will you? Teeth marks!” The smaller guard showed his arm to the others.

A pair of boots approached Scarlet at her place on the floor. “Ah, here she is. The Seamstress, I take it?” He peered down at her.

She nodded her head.

“We are to instruct you to hand over the list. He said you would know what I’m talking about.”

She rose, dusted off her dress, and then handed the dress to the nearest guard. “Careful, there are pins.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking over the gown, but said nothing.

“You will come with us. You are under arrest as a traitor to the republic.” A different guard moved to her and would have tied her hands.

But she said, “No shackles are necessary. I come willingly.”

They raised their eyebrows and moved to tie her up anyway. Wincing, preparing for rough ropes on her wrists, she widened her eyes when the men fell away and Robespierre entered.

“Citizen Robespierre.” One of the men saluted him and stepped forward. “The women are being gathered at this moment. All is going according to plan.”

“I see that, Marcos. Well done. The Seamstress and I have some business to take care of. Guard the doors.”

The guards exited, and Scarlet felt her breathing quicken. Hiding behind the character and personality of the Seamstress, she cooled her features and allowed an appropriate amount of fear and deference to show. “The guards have my latest list.”