Scarlet’s eyes widened, and she raised a hand to her mouth.

Nervously, he stammered, “You know, as if she had fainted . . . It is a bit gruesome, I suppose. We found a body that resembled her and everything, though a bit odiferous—”

Covering her mouth and wincing, she said, “Stop, no. It was brilliant, but I cannot stomach it right now.” Eyeing him again, she said, “Brilliant.” A new respect grew inside her for this man she had married.

She sighed. “Such a great loss. And now her children are alone.” They both stared out at the blue water, silent for a moment. She turned her cheek against Matteo’s chest. “But you were quite clever, darling. Thank you for trying.” Fatigue settled, and she worked to keep her eyes open.

Matteo squeezed her in his arms. “And my question? You must know I am quite anxious to discover your methods.”

She turned to him. Matteo’s eyes held such boyish curiosity that she gleaned energy from them. “Oh! Yes. How it all happened. Certainly I will explain the circumstances. These good people”—she held her arm out, indicating the passengers on the ship deck—“led by our dear friend Abelino, came to my rescue once, and at that moment, we set things in motion for them to lend assistance again.

“You see, when I turned myself in at the prison for your sake, I suspected that Robespierre and certainly Éléonore would not allow me to leave. These dear souls had already agreed to put themselves in prison, risk their very lives, so that Marie would have a means of escape, and I trusted they could aid in my own rescue, notwithstanding she did not accompany.”

Matteo nodded. “And your guards that Simon and I planted were also present.”

“Discovered, unfortunately. We have dressed as her guards before, and she is always suspicious.”

A young lad from the back called out, “Abella found them—she and Abelino.”

“And led them into the square at just the right moment.” Scarlet held out her hands, gesturing to include them all. Tears filled her eyes, and for a moment she couldn’t speak for the gratitude that welled up inside. For the first time, as she thought of her efforts, the memory of her parents did not haunt her. “And so you see, the Pimpernel isn’t any one person—just like you said, my dear husband—but instead, a feeling of selfless bravery. This strong motivation drives every one of us and those of the league who wait in France and England. We risk all.” Her voice wavered, and she cleared her throat, smiling through new tears. “We risk all, to save those who cannot save themselves.”

Author’s Notes