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Baldwin glanced at Morton before saying, “Your father was a royalist. Aren’t you in favor of the British monarchy?”
“I am in favor of the French monarchy. I have no loyalty towards the British Crown,” Marie replied.
“Napoleon is exiled, and the French monarchy has been restored,” Baldwin pointed out. “Why do you hold such animosity for the British?”
Marie’s eyes grew hard. “After the failed assassination attempt, my father planned to flee Paris, and he turned for help from the British agents who had helped him devise the plan against Napoleon. But they had abandoned him, and he was captured. They left him to die.”
Walking closer to him, Marie cocked her head and asked, “Do you know what it is like to be betrayed, Baldwin?”
“I do not,” he replied.
“These British agents promised him their protection, but they turned on him,” Marie said, stopping in front of him. “Instead, my father was savagely executed in front of Napoleon, the man he hated the most.” She ran a finger down his cheek. “Was that fair of them?”
Keeping his face expressionless, Baldwin replied, “No, it was not.”
Marie’s eyes narrowed. “If my father had been successful, then the English would have branded him a hero. Instead, they abandoned him when he failed,” she growled. “My father’s death will not be in vain. The British will pay for what they did.”
Morton spoke up from behind Marie. “After Lord Desmond is killed, we will move forward with our plans and assassinate Lord Liverpool and Lord Sidmouth,” he declared. “The people will start to rally after Lord Desmond’s death, and the revolution will begin.”
“If everything goes according to our plan, we will continue assassinating one government leader each week until we are free of their oppressive rule,” Morton explained.
Marie remained rooted in place as her eyes searched Baldwin’s face. “I am not entirely sure about this one,” she said. “He doesn’t seem like he shares our same passion.”
Morton came to stand next to her. “I can vouch for Baldwin.”
“I should hope so,” Marie said, turning away from him. “We both know what is at stake.”
Baldwin shifted in his seat. “How will we get a cart with an explosive close enough to Liverpool and Sidmouth?” he asked.
“We aren’t going to kill them that way,” Marie replied, a wry smile on her lips. “Oh, no. We intend to blow up their carriages with bombs on their undercarriage.”
“That is clever,” Tom declared.
Marie walked back towards the center of the room. “Besides, I only have enough gunpowder to make one machine infernale,” she shared. “I have made the smaller bombs for the carriages.”
Morton bobbed his head in approval. “We will all need to reconvene here tomorrow.” He turned his attention towards Baldwin. “You will need to be cautious as you lead the team towards Lord Desmond’s rally. Avoid any dips in the roads. We would hate for the bomb to go off unintentionally.”
Baldwin scoffed. “Taking me with it.”
“Exactly,” Morton replied.
“The bomb will be inside of a big wine cask, and I will fill it full of gunpowder before the rally,” Marie informed them. “Any questions?”
Baldwin rose from his chair and said, “It would appear that I am the only one that could be arrested in this scenario.”
“Not if you stick to the plan,” Morton asserted. “You light the slow match and get out of there. Once the explosion happens, no one will be paying you any real heed.”
“What if I can’t get the wagon close enough to the stage?” Baldwin asked.
Marie shrugged. “Get as close as you can. The bomb will do the rest.”
“Can’t we just leave the wagon next to the stage overnight?” Tom asked.
Morton shook his head. “No, the constables would find it when they do a sweep of the square,” he replied. “They also check under the stage for any explosives.”
Baldwin lifted his brow. “If the intent is just to kill Lord Desmond, why don’t I sneak into his townhouse and stab him through the heart?”
“No, that wouldn’t work,” Morton said. “We are trying to start a revolution, and we need something to ignite a flame under the people.”
Marie clapped her hands together. “Are there any other questions?”
“Where are the powder kegs being stored?” Baldwin asked. “I don’t want to risk the gunpowder being bad and delaying the ignition.”
“I can assure you that it is being stored in a safe, dry place,” Marie replied.
“That is good,” Baldwin said.
Marie tipped her head. “Then let’s adjourn, and we will meet tomorrow.” She put her clenched fist up in the air. “To the revolution!”
“To the revolution!” everyone else said in unison.
