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front. In the back was a large wine cask that was held together by rope. A twine fuse was positioned in the back of the cask.

Marie stepped closer to the wagon and pointed at the fuse. “You light the slow match and you quickly leave Fieldstone Square without attracting too much attention.”

“That fuse isn’t very long,” Baldwin commented.

“It doesn’t need to be,” Marie remarked. “It is slow burning and will only present a small glowing tip after you light it.”

Baldwin lowered his voice and asked, “What do you estimate the blast radius to be?”

Marie met his gaze. “I would just run, and don’t stop running until you are as far away from the blast as you can be.”

“I understand.”

Placing a hand on the wine cask, Marie ordered, “Get the wagon as close as you can to the stage and let the machine infernale do the rest.”

Baldwin’s eyes scanned the bomb. “I will do my best.”

“If you don’t succeed, I will kill you,” Marie said in a stern voice.

His eyes snapped back to hers. “I understand my job.”

A smile came to Marie’s lips. “Good, but I am coming with you to ensure that we have no mishaps along the way.”

Fearing he’d misheard her, he asked, “Pardon?”

Marie lifted her brow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, you are more than welcome to come along.”

Walking around the wagon, Marie stepped up to the driver’s bench. “Shall we?” she asked. “I would hate to miss Lord Desmond’s rally.”

Baldwin’s eyes scanned around the buildings before he sat next to her on the bench. As he urged the team forward, he felt something jab him in the ribs.

He glanced over in surprise and saw Marie holding a pistol in her hand.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Marie said. “I knew you had every intention of betraying us, just as I intend to betray your countrymen.”

“How do you know?”

Marie smirked. “Morton is a fool, and he trusts entirely too easily. But I had my suspicions about you from nearly the moment he told me about you,” she explained. “He just saw you as the perfect scapegoat, blinding him from the truth.”

“Which is?”

“That you are Lord Hawthorne,” she said. “I followed you one night out of the rookeries to Hawthorne House. I doubt you ever suspected a woman was following you.”

“I did not,” he replied, keeping his gaze on the street.

“Women are often overlooked here, are they not?” she asked. “The British don’t seem to think women make very good spies, but France has been using women for years in subterfuge.”

Marie tilted her head. “Although, you may have noticed me following you, if you hadn’t been so distracted by Mademoiselle Dowding.”

He clenched his jaw so tightly that a muscle below his ear began to pulsate. “Did you abduct her?” he growled.

“I did,” she replied unabashed, “but I have no intention of killing her, assuming you move forward with our plan.”

“Where is she?”

“In the outbuilding behind the orphanage,” she answered.

Baldwin glanced over at her. “You are lying,” he declared. “That building was searched by a teacher at the school.”

Marie smiled victoriously. “That would be me.”

“You worked at the orphanage?”

“I was the French teacher,” she shared. “Mademoiselle Dowding’s solicitor helped arrange the job for me so we had a place where I could build a bomb without causing suspicion.”

“Am I to assume you were the one who abducted and killed Miss Hardy?”

With a shake of her head, Marie replied, “I don’t know why you sound so surprised. Miss Hardy started asking too many questions, and she became a liability. You, of all people, should understand that.”

“You didn’t need to kill her.”

“But I did,” Marie said. “I don’t like having too many loose ends.”

Adjusting his grip on the reins, Baldwin asked, “Why did you betray Morton?”

“I have no doubt that your agents raided the Blue Boar the moment we drove away,” Marie said. “I could have warned him, but I found him rather irksome.”

Baldwin slowed the wagon as a street urchin ran into the street, passing right in front of the horses.

“I was sent by a group of radicals in France that wanted to ignite a revolution in Britain,” Marie continued. “But I decided I would much rather seek revenge on Lord Desmond. After all, he was one of the agents that betrayed my father.”

“I had no idea that Lord Desmond was even an agent.”

“Soon, it won’t matter,” Marie said. “After the machine infernale blows up Fieldstone Square, Lord Desmond will be dead.”

“If your entire plan revolves around killing Lord Desmond, why do you intend to kill all those innocent people?”

“No one is truly innocent,” Marie spat out. “Your people are fools for living under the oppression of the mad King George and his worthless son, Prinny.”

“Your logic is faulty.”

“Perhaps, but at the end of the day, I will still be alive, and you won’t.”

They had just passed the buildings that lined Fieldstone Square when Baldwin pulled back on the reins, knowing this action could very well be his last. Up ahead, he saw a large crowd had assembled, and they were all standing around a stage that had been erected for the rally. He could scarcely make out Lord Desmond’s words as he directed his comments towards the crowd.

“I won’t drive this cart into the crowd,” he declared, dropping the reins.

“Then Miss Dowding will die.”

“So be it,” Baldwin replied as he kept his face expressionless. He knew that Miss Dowding was rather clever, and he hoped she had already managed to get herself to safety.

Marie shoved the pistol further into his ribs. “And you will die.”

“I have no doubt that you planned to kill me either way,” Baldwin said. “You might as well do it now and save us a load of trouble.” He paused. “Although, firing a pistol so close to a bomb might not be the smartest idea.”

“You are right,” Marie said, pulling back the pistol slightly.

That was all the encouragement he needed, and he swiftly brought his hand up and shoved the pistol away from him and the wagon while simultaneously

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