If He's Wild by Hannah Howell

smiling at the wrong man.”
    “How grossly unfair. Iago, I am a Vaughn despite my married name. If not for the fact that you are young, titled, and unwed, I would not be invited to these events anyway.”
    “If people knew you—”
    “If people truly knew me, I would never be invited anywhere save for a few small teas or salons where I would be expected to tell someone if their husband is faithful or whom they might wed. I would be the entertainment. I am not even an heiress some mother might wish to grasp for her son. I am just a young widow with enough of a portion to live in a small manor on a small acreage several days’ journey from London. What I am is the sort of woman men like Redgrave want as a lover.”
    “Alethea—”
    “No, Iago. This must be my decision. If ’tis folly, then so be it. If I end up heartbroken, then so be it. When this trouble ends, I go back to Coulthurst with Kate and Alfred. That is my future as it stands now. Would you begrudge me a short time of pleasure, of testing my wings?”
    Iago sighed and shook his head. “No. As you say, you are a widow. Few know that you had no true marriage, and widows are allowed some freedom as long as they are discrete. Redgrave is discrete.”
    “Then how does everyone know he is a rake?”
    “Discrete just means that no one can confirm what is going on save for the ones directly involved, that the affair is not flaunted before one and all.”
    “I do not think I will ever fully understand society.”
    “Do not even try.”
    “And this discussion may prove moot anyway. Hartley must continue his attempt to seduce secrets from Madame Claudette.” Alethea was surprised at how it hurt to even state that cold fact, but only a little. She had already guessed that she was in grave danger of losing more than her innocence to the far-too-handsome Marquis of Redgrave.
    “I would be most surprised if he could even stomach being in the same room as that woman now. How could he not see the blood on her hands, mayhap even that of his niece and nephew, simply because she cast them out alone in France when she had their family murdered? He must be trying to think of a way to escape that duty even now, having lost all urge to do it.”
    “Not even for king and country?”
    “Ah. Forgot that. Will that trouble you?”
    “I cannot say I will enjoy watching him ply his charms on another woman when I should very much like him to ply them on me, but I want her brought to justice. Not only for the lives she has already taken, but for the ones she plans to take.”
    “Such as Redgrave’s.”
    “Exactly. Remember, I saw her when I had the vision as I held Germaine’s locket. The woman had two small children, a good man, and his young wife slaughtered so she could have jewels. There may have even been some petty need for revenge for some imagined insult. If not for Germaine’s wit and strength, four children would have died on that beach. She did it all for gain, and that sickens me. Oh, yes, she may have had more reasons than simple robbery and revenge, but I know, deep in my heart, I know, none of those reasons go beyond her own greed and vanity.”
    “Somehow, I do not believe seduction will work to get information out of such a woman.”
    “No, it will not, but Hartley’s superiors think it will, and Hartley is, above all else, a good soldier. Since he cannot tell his superiors how he knows what he now does about Claudette, I think he will have to continue the game.”
    “We shall see how he plays it soon,” said Iago as their carriage pulled to a halt before an elegant townhouse well lit by torches. “Both he and Madame Claudette will be here tonight.”
    As Alethea allowed her uncle to escort her into the Lorings’ home, where the grand ball had already begun, she fought the urge to turn and flee. Her mind knew Hartley but played a game with Claudette, that he had been ordered to woo the woman and that in doing so he might find clues to lead him to