“But there’s just one thing I don’t understand.” Matteo’s voice carried over the deck and drew a few back to them. He wrapped his arms around Scarlet as he leaned against the mast of the ship, she resting comfortably against the length of his strong body.

“Just one?” Simon quirked up his brow, and those nearest him laughed. More had left the rails of the ship and come to listen.

“And what is that, my darling?” Scarlet felt as though she might float away on the wind, so light and carefree was her heart at the moment.

“How did all of the prisoners come to have knives? And how did you know I would rescue them? It was but a whim to enter that hallway, and you were unconscious at the time.” He paused for a moment. “And how were the guards freed and on our side in the first place?”

The men of her league laughed. Simon quipped, “So many hows. Unfortunately, she never answers those kinds of questions.”

The others on deck joined in their laughter. One woman raised her hand and called out, “I can answer some of them. I was one that you thought you rescued.”
“Thought I rescued?”

Scarlet smiled with sympathy and turned to him. “Yes, my dear. You see, their doors were already unlocked. Abella saw to that. They were biding their time before they would leave their cells and release the guards, our guards, and come to the courtyard to aid us.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “And so, when I opened the doors and they joined us, they then became locked in a cell with us, truly locked?”

The woman called out, “That’s right. But it all worked out in the end, didn’t it? And you did save a few we didn’t know whose doors were truly locked, and I’ll bet they’re grateful.”

A few cheers and claps indicated they were.

“But how did you coordinate all of this in your feverish and unconscious state?”

Clucking his tongue, Simon muttered, “More hows.”

Matteo frowned.

“Now, darling, I will explain all; don’t listen to them.” She narrowed her eyes good-naturedly at Simon. “You see, these good people, and many more back in France, came to my rescue while I was trying to save Marie.” Her voice faltered, and she stopped.

“I’m sorry, Scarlet. We did everything we could. My plan would have worked and she would have been saved if they had not bumped up her execution by two days.”

“You had a rescue plan?” She warmed, grateful to replace previous doubts with a new pride in her husband.

“Yes, I was rather proud of it. They were to rescue Marie, replacing her with the corpse of a woman who had died in prison, carrying the deceased out to La Guillotine as if she had fainted, with the people of France none the wiser.”