Free If He's Wild by Hannah Howell Page A

head when he next realized that the only woman he wanted now was Alethea Vaughn, a woman who had a gift that sent chills down his spine.

Chapter 5
    Biting the inside of her cheek to curb the urge to smile, Alethea greeted Hartley as he was shown into the small blue salon. He looked nervous, a look that did not sit well on his strong, handsome face. She doubted it was because he found himself alone with her. He paced the room until Ethelred brought in some tea, wine, and cakes. The moment the butler left, Hartley sat down on the settee facing her.
    “Is Iago home?” Hartley asked, nodding his agreement when she silently gestured toward the teapot.
    “No,” Alethea replied as she poured them each a cup of tea. “This is the night he goes off with his friends. If it is important that you speak with him now, I believe Ethelred could tell you where to look or send a message to him.”
    “Ah, no. Do not do that.” He grimaced, a little surprised at how concerned he suddenly was with the proprieties. He had spent a lot of time in rooms alone with a lot of women and never fretted, but, then, those women had not been Alethea. “I did not expect to find you all alone.”
    “I am not a young maiden, Hartley. A maid will be chaperone enough.”
    “There is no maid here.”
    “There is, if anyone has the temerity to ask or imply otherwise.” She smiled faintly. “Do not fear. If you call for help, Ethelred and Alfred will immediately rush to your aid.” She ignored the disgusted look he gave her. “Why are you here?”
    Hartley took a bracing sip of the strong tea. “After what you told us two nights ago, after hearing all you had learned from simply holding that scrap of linen and lace, I began to think on what you might discover if you did touch something else, something that belonged to the prey instead of the predator.” He struggled to keep the image of her pale, tear-streaked face from his mind, because he needed her to do this, needed to find the truth.
    “As I told you, I cannot promise anything.”
    Alethea could understand what drove him to make the request. He needed to know what had happened to his niece and nephew. She could see the hunger for that knowledge in his eyes. Considering what might have happened to them, she was not eager to touch anything that might have been with the children that day, but she could not bring herself to refuse him. This was what her gift was for. If those children were alive, and she was, even in the smallest of ways, able to help him find them, then it was worth whatever unpleasantness she might have to suffer.
    When Hartley saw the faint look of unease on her face, the memory of how upsetting it had been for her to hold that handkerchief, the grim images she had been forced to see, slipped free of the bonds he had put on it. He hesitated to add to that, to chance giving her new, even more upsetting images, but only for a moment. For three long years he had wondered what had happened to his niece and nephew, had searched and worried. Although he had also worried about the compte, his wife, and their two children, it was Bayard and Germaine he had been desperate to find. Aside from a few distant cousins, they were all the family he had left. He could not fully discard what he had seen two nights ago, could not make himself dispute Alethea and Iago’s claims that the compte, his wife, and their two children were dead. His need to know the fate of his sister’s two children had grown with each hour since then. Hartley pulled Germaine’s locket out of his waistcoat pocket and stared at it for a moment before fixing his gaze on Alethea.
    “I bought this for Germaine when she was but ten,” he said. “It was one of the few things found at the place where the whole family was to meet with me and my men.” He frowned at her and then glanced toward the door. “Should we call your maid in case you will be needing her aid?”
    After considering that, Alethea shook her head.