To say that Marguerite was in shock would be an understatement. She would remember if she had died. But what other explanation was there for showing up in a place like this? Absently, Marguerite reached up and touched her neck. Perhaps she had gone into such shock that she had indeed been forced to kneel before the blade of the guillotine, died as her husband had. Would Armand follow, then? Oh Armand, the little brother she had raised and done everything for.
And then she heard someone asking her a question and the red head blinked and pulled herself from the shock she'd been feeling. Or was still feeling, if she were being truthful. That sort of shock didn't just go away. Nor did the pain of losing her husband in such a violent way right in front of her. In knowing that Armand would follow after she was killed. The clothing on the woman was nothing like Marguerite had seen in either France or England. But then again, she had already realized she was in neither place and that the accents were different as well. Normal circumstances would have Marguerite be slipping into actress mode. The French were far more passionate than their English counterparts, it was a thing she would tease Percy on before their marriage. But some things? Some things Marguerite kept to herself. At least with strangers. Because that would have led to her being unable to survive before. And she was the greatest actress in Europe.
She just didn't have the energy to do so. To try. Instead she just wiped her eyes and tried to catch her breath so she could at least form a response to the woman.
"I.. am uncertain. I think I'm lost...." Or dead. But this surely was not heaven for Percy was not there. And as far as she could tell, it was not Hell. Unless it was a trick. Or Purgatory for what she had done. To save her relationship. To save her brother. Perhaps had she not said anything, at least Percy would still be alive. If she had just gone in search of Armand herself. She was a fool and this was her punishment.