They did not have time to haggle with Éléonore. Nor did he want to draw more attention to the courtyard. Matteo decided it was time to give up their cover and stop her once and for all. Nodding at Simon, he signaled the guards to detain her.

No one moved.

Simon said, “Men. Now.”

Still no one moved.

“Having a bit of trouble, my dears?” Éléonore’s smug tone raised the hairs on his arms.

Scarlet whispered, “These aren’t our men.”

The shrill laugh Matteo had come to loathe sounded hollow as it echoed off the walls of the prison. “Do you really think, Matteo, that I would not know my own guards? Seize the one they call Simon.”

Immediately the two guards nearest Simon grabbed his pistol and his sword and shoved him to the center of the group to join the others.

Matteo bore down on him. “How did you not know?” Anger brimmed below the surface and desperation filled him.

Scarlet laid a soothing hand on his cheek. “He has not met all of the league. More join every day. He couldn’t have known.” She tilted her head to the side, presumably to get a better view of Éléonore. “My dear! Hello. We meet again. Come closer so that I may see you better and greet you properly.”

As soon as Éléonore moved into her line of sight, she exclaimed, “Oh, perfectly dreadful still. Your complexion. You look as though you never see the light of day.”

“A bit peaky, yes.” Matteo pulled her closer to him and whispered, “But I don’t think now is the time—”

“Oh, nonsense. What is a bit of fashion advice between friends? Now, where will you be taking us?”

“You will head straight to La Conciergerie tonight and to the guillotine tomorrow. All of you.”

A few of the children whimpered, and one lad put his arm across the shoulders of his sister.

Éléonore continued. “Unless . . .”

With raised eyebrows, Matteo shared a look with Simon.

“Unless you can produce the Pimpernel, who will stand in your place.”

“Really, Miss Duplay.” Scarlet’s voice sounded surprisingly calm. “You will march all of us across Paris to Île de la Cité and La Conciergerie? Tonight?”

A strong voice approached from their right. “What is this, Éléonore?”

“Oh, Robespierre, darling. Just stopping a bit of an escape. Nothing for you to concern yourself with. All is in hand.”

His gaze darted over their group, searching. They stopped on Scarlet. “You there, young lady. Turn your face so that I might see you.”