Free If He's Wild by Hannah Howell

had before,” said Aldus. “The sort of information that could be very useful if we get our hands on one of the ones who was involved. A mention of such details, the sort only those involved could know, can make a prisoner think you know it all, that one of his own has or is betraying him.”
    “And it assures us that we are on the right path, have not been wasting our time,” said Gifford. “We do that too often in this game.”
    Alethea smiled, relieved and pleased. “I know you cannot tell people how you came by the information and were concerned that that made it all useless. It is good to know that it can serve some purpose, be of some help to you. As Iago said earlier today, what is the worth of such gifts if they cannot be put to some use?”
    “I, for one, wish we could put them to even greater use,” said Aldus. “The possibilities are endless, and both time and work could be saved, used more profitably elsewhere. And lives could be saved as well, many lives. Unfortunately, acceptance of such things is not widespread, as you well know.”
    “Even those who do believe can be most reluctant to deal with such gifts in even the smallest way.”
    “Or can begin to wish one could still pile kindling around your feet,” drawled Iago.
    Everyone winced, and the conversation turned back to what little they had learned. Sensing that the Vaughns were in need of some time to recover from their ordeals, Hartley soon brought an end to the meeting. He still found it all unsettling, but he could no longer deny the truth. Alethea Vaughn had visions, and Iago Vaughn saw the dead. Part of the birth of his new belief was because of the Vaughns themselves. He realized he trusted them implicitly, and there were few people he could say that about.
    “Damn my eyes, but I wish we could use this information openly, without fear of ridicule over how it was obtained,” said Aldus as their carriage started on its way back to Hartley’s home.
    “We shall just have to think of some clever story to explain how we know what we know.” Hartley thought of the possibility that his sister’s children were still alive and fought against the surge of hope that tried to rise up within him. “And soon.”
    “You think your niece and nephew may still live?” asked Aldus.
    The man had always been able to sense what was on his mind, Hartley thought and sighed. “’Tis a possibility, a small one. They were just children. Yet Germaine was always a strong, clever girl. If any young girl could survive such a tragedy, survive on the streets of the madhouse that is now France, it would be Germaine.”
    “Even with a young boy to protect and care for?”
    Hartley nodded, absolutely confident in his opinion of his niece. “Even then. In fact, that would make her even fiercer and more determined to survive. I fear having my hopes raised, but I cannot stop it from happening.”
    “Perhaps seducing Claudette—”
    “No. A woman who kills so easily will not be brought down by seduction and pillow talk.” Hartley grimaced. “I would also fail in seducing her now, I fear. I will never be able to look at her, touch her, without seeing the faces of Peterson, Rogers, the compte and his lady, and those two innocent babes.” He silently admitted to himself that even his baser lust had stopped being tempted by the woman from the moment he had stared into a pair of silvery blue eyes.
    Gifford nodded. “Just do not tell our superiors that.”
    “Why not?” Hartley asked. “I shall need to explain why I am turning away from her.”
    “Oh, you will still be able to do that, but I think we shall say that our knowledge comes from a careless slip made by Claudette as you worked your magic upon her.”
    Hartley hesitated for only a moment and then nodded in agreement. It was a good plan. Unease tickled at him, however, and he suddenly realized it was because he did not want Alethea to hear that he was still sniffing after Claudette. He inwardly shook his