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She shook her head, more gently this time.

“Lord Desmond,” Miss Gaillard replied. “When the bomb goes off in the crowd, I will be a short distance away with a rifle to ensure that he doesn’t leave the podium alive.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Madalene asserted. “You can just walk away from this, and no one else has to die.”

Miss Gaillard gave her a sad smile. “A part of me died the day my father was executed, and every day a little more of me dies inside.”

“Let me help you,” Madalene attempted. “I can give you money, lots of it, and you can just return to France.”

“This isn’t about the money,” Miss Gaillard said as she took a step back. “This is about revenge.”

“Miss Gaillard, please—”

“My name is Marie,” she said, speaking over her, “and I am tired of living a lie.”

Marie picked up a bullet from the table and placed it on the ground next to Madalene. “If you try to escape before the sun sets,” she threatened emotionlessly, “I won’t hesitate to kill you the next time we meet.”

Madalene’s eyes grew wide as she bobbed her head. It was evident that Marie meant every word.

“I’m glad that we can see eye to eye, Mademoiselle Dowding,” Marie remarked with a sinister smile. “Although, I am sorry that I have to kill Lord Hawthorne, but I have no doubt that you will have another suitor before long.”

Not bothering to wait for her response, Marie left, closing the door behind her. Madalene didn’t dare move from her spot until she heard the sound of the wagon being pulled away by a team of horses.

When it grew quiet once more, Madalene struggled to stand, then glanced out the curtained window. There was no one in the courtyard, and nothing that could help her. She turned back towards the table and saw a large shard of metal.

Madalene picked it up with her fingers and started rubbing it back and forth over the rope. It finally started fraying after what felt like hours but was probably only moments. She continued using the metal shard until the rope was weak enough that she was able to break through it.

As the rope dropped to the floor, she took a moment to run her hands over her reddened wrists and inspect the cuts on her fingers from the metal shard. She wondered what she could possibly do to warn Lord Hawthorne of Marie’s evil designs.

“Think,” Madalene said, thinking out loud. “What would Lord Hawthorne do?”

Madalene frowned, knowing exactly what he would say to her at this precise moment. He would have chided her for leaving the muff pistol in her reticule, which she had left on Edith’s dressing table. She hadn’t thought that through when she went to search the wagon and outbuilding. Then again, who would have thought that Miss Gaillard was mad and intended to use the wagon to blow up hundreds of innocent people?

Either way, she needed to retrieve the muff pistol and somehow find a way to stop Marie from killing anyone else.

Madalene opened the door and ran across the courtyard. She raced up the steps and nearly collided with Mrs. Kipper at the top of the stairs.

“Where have you been, Miss Dowding?!” Mrs. Kipper exclaimed in astonishment. “Whatever happened to you?”

“Follow me,” Madalene ordered as she ran towards Edith’s room. “I need you to send word to the constable that someone is planning on blowing up a bomb at Fieldstone Square during Lord Desmond’s rally today.”

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Kipper asked with labored breath as she stopped at the doorway.

Madalene picked up her reticule and reached inside for the muff pistol. She pulled it out and held it in her hand. The housekeeper’s eyes grew wide.

“Miss Gaillard is not who we thought she was,” Madalene explained. “She is mad and wants to kill hundreds of people.”

Mrs. Kipper frowned. “That is impossible. Miss Gaillard is such a nice woman.”

“We were all deceived by her, but she admitted to me that she killed Edith,” Madalene replied, returning the pistol to her reticule. “We need to stop her before it is too late.”

Mrs. Kipper’s face paled. “Why would she kill Edith?”

“That isn’t important right now,” Madalene asserted as she slipped the reticule around her right wrist, wincing at the pain from her earlier bonds. “I need you to focus, Mrs. Kipper. Can you go inform the constable of what Miss Gaillard intends to do?”

With a nod, Mrs. Kipper replied, “I will go myself.”

“Good,” Madalene replied as she hurried out of the room.

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