* * *
Calli squeezed her eyes shut tight as she waited for the horse’s hooves to pound over her, and she prayed that she could keep Matthew out of harm’s way.
When the impending doom didn’t arrive, she cracked open one eye and then the other, even as Matthew began to squirm in her arms, apparently no worse for his near brush with death.
“Miss Donahue,” he grunted as he squirmed. “Miss Donahue!”
“Miss Donahue!” Another voice came from behind her, and she closed her eyes once more when she heard it. The intensity of it was enough to remind her that she was Miss Donahue. At least for the time being.
That voice did not sound particularly pleased so she decided to just ignore it for a moment.
She released Matthew, setting him back on his feet.
“Are you all right?” she asked, running her hands over him. “Are you hurt at all?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, Matthew, you had me so worried,” she said, her heart still pounding in her chest. She could still see him running out in front of the horses, sure that he was going to be trampled to death. She would never have been able to bear it.
Mary came running up to them and immediately began to scold her brother. “That was stupid,” she said, her hands on her hips. “You were nearly killed.”
“I was not!”
“You were too!”
“Everyone is fine,” Calli said as she turned over, except that as she did, she realized there was one person who was not entirely fine.
“Matthew, Mary!”
They all turned as one to see the duke striding toward them, his gait powerful, purposeful, and altogether displeased.
“Your Grace,” Calli said, attempting to get to her feet to curtsy, but as she stood, she nearly fell back over when her ankle didn’t seem to want to cooperate and hold her up.
“What is the meaning of this?” the duke thundered, and Calli winced as she placed a hand on the shoulders of Matthew and Mary, in part to offer them her support and in equal part to hold herself up.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” she said, still slightly winded from her sprint across the park. “Matthew got away from me and by the time I caught up, I was nearly too late.”
When the duke lifted his hat and wiped a hand across his forehead, Calli realized that he was not so much angry, but he was worried — which, she supposed, was a stride in the right direction to actually caring for the children.
“My God, Matthew, you were nearly killed — by my own horse,” he said, horror in his voice at the thought of just what could have happened.
“Luckily you appear to be a rider of great skill,” Calli said in an attempt to lessen the severity of the duke’s anger. “You managed to stop in good time.”
“Yes,” he said, turning his stormy gaze toward her, “but if you hadn’t caught Matthew, it would have been Davenport who would have run over the child.”
“Although I like to think that I am of equal, if not greater skill to Hargreave here,” said a handsome man with light, curly locks escaping from beneath his hat as he strode over from where the horses were now tied, sending Calli a wink and then a grin that she couldn’t help but return. He was an attractive man, that was for certain, and obviously a charming one as well. Was he really friends with the duke?
Calli’s employer turned his withering stare on the man and shook his head.
“Not right now, Davenport,” he said before looking at Calli, his gaze now levelled, something in his eyes akin to… was that respect? “You risked your life for my nephew, Miss Donahue.”
Calli shook her head, not wanting such praise. She didn’t deserve it. “I was just trying to keep him safe, Your Grace. Anyone would have done the same.”
“They most certainly would not have,” he said, his voice brokering no argument. “Assuredly none of the boy’s other governesses. Now, I’m also not sure that any of them would have had the courage to take these two children into Hyde Park, but as you were foolish enough to do so, I appreciate what you were willing to do.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, unsure how else to respond to what she assumed was a compliment, coming from him.
“Since you are here, now, Uncle, would you like to spend some time with us?” Matthew asked eagerly, sweeping his arm back behind him. “Miss Donahue said you couldn’t accompany us because you are working, but it seems that you are riding.”
“That was yesterday,” Calli murmured toward him, her cheeks burning hot at being caught in the lie, even by a child. “Your uncle is a busy man.” She turned back to the two gentlemen. “We shall be going. Come along, children.”
She began to urge them back toward the path, but as she tried to step onto her right ankle, she gave a hiss of pain.
“Miss Donahue?” the duke stepped toward her. “Are you all right?”
“Just fine,” she said, waving him away, wishing he would leave now. She was sure if she was able to make it back to the carriage and the footman who awaited them, they could be home quickly, before she made a spectacle of herself.
“It looks to me that you have injured your ankle.”
“It’s just a sprain, I’m sure of it,” she insisted, knowing that it would hurt a great deal more if it were anything worse. She had experienced such injuries before.
“Sit.”
“Oh, no, really, I—”
“Sit.”
When the Duke of Hargreave commanded someone, it was obvious that he accepted no answer but acquiescence. Even the children looked at her with the expectation that she obey. Calli sighed and sat down on the grass, even as the second gentleman crossed his arms over his chest and looked on with a smug grin on his face that Calli didn’t quite understand.
The duke held out his hands to her, and she looked up at him, confused. From what her siblings had told her, gentlemen were not supposed to touch ladies in public. Except, she supposed, she was not exactly a lady and they were not exactly in public.
“No need to be afraid of me ravishing you in the middle of Hyde Park,” he said rather snidely, earning snickers from Matthew and Mary — and his friend, who at least tried to cover his with a cough.
“I would never dream of such an occurrence, Your Grace,” she said, holding her head high, knowing that he would never deign to consider a dalliance of any sort with a woman like her — a woman in his employ, far from the standard of delicate beauty he would be used to.
She did, however, remember Diana’s suggestion that Calli would make a most enticing mistress for a gentleman, should the situation ever require it. Arie had become so angry at the idea of it, however, that Diana had quickly abandoned it.
When Calli found herself nearly trembling at the duke’s strong, firm fingers near her ankle, however, she pushed the thought away as quickly as it had invaded.
He didn’t look at her as he deftly untied the laces of her boot before slowly sliding it down her foot. It would have been a seductive moment in itself had it not caused a bolt of pain to shoot through her ankle, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
The duke’s firm fingers now stroked over the stockings covering her leg, feeling for any damage, and he asked her to turn her foot one way and then the other, still not looking her in the eye.
“How does that feel?” he asked, finally looking up to meet her gaze, and she had to swallow hard when he did, for his eyes had turned a rather dark, intense shade of blue.
“I-it hurts a bit,” she said, “but I can certainly still move it.”
“Good,” he said curtly. “Where’s the carriage?”
“We left it — with the driver and the footman — near Rotten Row,” she said.
“The footman should have accompanied you,” he muttered, before turning his head, not letting go of her foot. “Davenport, would you make yourself useful and ride over to find the carriage? Tell the driver to bring it back here, closer to where we are. That way we won
’t be on display before the eyes of anyone out for an early stroll.”
“I am not your servant, Hargreave.”
The duke closed his eyes for a moment, clearly vexed.
“Please?” he said, the word nearly indecipherable due to the growl that accompanied it.
Davenport grinned in return. “Very well. Since you asked so nicely.”
He began whistling as he strode back to his horse, and soon enough he was thundering by them, leaving the four of them alone.
“We’ll meet them at the road,” he said before lifting Calli’s boot and attempting to slide it back on, but it was no use. The ankle was too swollen. “Damn it, I should have left the boot on,” he said, lifting his hat and running his hand through his hair. “I cannot have you walking in your stocking feet. If you even are able to walk, that is.”
“I am perfectly fine, Your Grace,” she said, shaking her head insistently. “Perhaps if the children can find me a stick of some sort, that would help me walk to the road.”
She looked up at them with an earnest smile, but before anyone could respond, the duke had risen to his feet, and then was bending down, scooping his arms beneath her.
“Your Grace, what are you—” Calli exclaimed, but it was too late. She was in the duke’s arms. And it didn’t seem likely that he was letting her go.
Chapter 7
This was madness. All of it.
The ride through Hyde Park. The children’s inability to behave. And this damned woman, who kept appearing everywhere he didn’t want her to be.
Jonathan didn’t know what was wrong with her — or with him — but it seemed she had somehow invaded his every sense. When he walked into a room, he sniffed for honeysuckle, when he took his breakfast, he listened for her sultry voice, when he strode down any London street, he looked for her shining head of black hair, even when he knew full well that she was at home under his own roof.
By God, he had only known her for two days, and she was his governess.
But who in their right mind would ever suggest this woman for a governess? Her lush curves sank into his arms as he carried her, his face far too close to her ample bosom, though it was tactfully covered. Now the scent he always searched for was not only present but somehow within him and he wondered whether he would ever be able to rid his nose of the honeysuckle that currently filled it.
“Matthew, Mary!” she called out, startling him.
He turned around to find the children were still waiting in the field. They answered her summons, running after them, apparently deciding to race one another.
“They really do need to learn to listen,” she said, a frown on her face.
He grunted in response.
It was not that he was overly exerted from carrying her. It was that he was overly exerted from trying to keep command over all of the desires that were currently telling him to dump her into the carriage, climb in after her, and then shut the door to everyone else.
But, of course, there were the children. And Davenport. And her position in his household. And propriety. And everything else that would make that the entirely wrong thing to do.
Davenport beat the carriage back and seemed to accurately assess the situation in front of him.
“The carriage should be here in just a couple of minutes,” he said, looking at Calli and then back at Jonathan. “Would you like me to hold onto Miss Donahue while we wait for it?”
His eyes sparkled, and Jonathan shot him a look that told him just exactly what he thought of his little jest.
“I am just fine.”
“I can stand, really,” Miss Donahue said from within the circle of his arms, but he ignored her. He was fine. Even if it was to himself that he needed to prove it.
“Does she need to see the physician, Uncle?” Mary asked.
Before he could say anything, Miss Donahue interrupted. “No, of course not. I’m sure I will heal in just a couple of days.”
Jonathan looked down at her now, chagrined to find that their faces were but inches away from one another, those plush red lips all too tempting.
“You could have been killed, you know,” he said, his voice harsh. “I could have killed you.”
“Enough of that,” she scolded as if he was one of her charges. “No one was killed, and everyone is fine.”
“Perhaps,” he muttered. “But you shouldn’t have taken such a risk.”
“Of course I should have,” she said indignantly. “I would never put a child’s life before mine.”
She looked past him, then, at the children, and he was struck by the honesty of her words. What kind of woman was she, that she would put the welfare of children she hardly knew before her own?
The carriage arrived before he could put voice to his thoughts, however, and he deposited her within it with as much gentleness as he could manage.
“I will meet you at home,” he told both her and the children, bending to lift the two young ones into the carriage, not even realizing how naturally it felt to do so until after he had done it and the three of them were all watching him in awe.
He cleared his throat, hoping they wouldn’t make anything of it, before he shut the carriage door, stepped back, and motioned the driver away.
Davenport was waiting.
“Say nothing,” Jonathan growled.
“I—”
Jonathan shook his head and glared. “Not a word.”
“Very well,” Davenport said, taking the lead of his horse as they walked back to Jonathan’s. But then Davenport began to whistle a tune that had Jonathan shaking his head as he hid the smile that threatened.
Lavender’s Blue.
* * *
Calli found herself quite spoiled over the next day or two. The duke had arrived home and quickly checked upon her, asking her and Mrs. Blonsky whether a physician was required. When they answered in the negative, he continued on his way. Calli did her utmost to entertain the children from a sitting position, and even found herself attempting to teach some basic arithmetic.
She was only glad that her pupils didn’t seem to be aware that she was not the most conventional of governesses.
Most of what she knew had been taught to her by Arie and then Diana, both of whom were more concerned about adding together figures in order to determine the worth of an item, how much expenses would cost them, and how to disperse their… earnings.
She tried to use much more appropriate items when teaching the children.
Apples, loaves of bread, bolts of cloth and the like. They were bright children, but bored easily, and Calli found herself grasping for ideas to entertain them.
“Let’s play a game,” Mary said decidedly one afternoon.
“Very well,” Calli said, ready to accept any suggestion. “What were you thinking?”
“Hide and seek.”
Calli mulled over the idea. Her ankle was healing, but she still found herself hobbling around.
“Only if we all stay on this floor,” she said. “I cannot be hobbling up and down stairs at the moment.”
“Of course,” Mary said brightly, and when Calli eyed her suspiciously, the girl smiled brilliantly.
“You must listen to what I say, Mary,” she tried to warn sternly.
“We always do,” Matthew added unhelpfully, for they most assuredly always did not.
“You count first,” Mary commanded, and Calli kept her eyes open a crack as she began. She wasn’t surprised to see the children dart off and take for the stairs. Interestingly, they went up instead of down, and she smiled to herself before opening her eyes and pulling out her sketchpad.
Which was how the duke found her ten minutes later.
“Miss Donahue?”
“Your Grace!”
She shot up straight, her sketchbook falling onto the chair behind her as she struggled to her feet.
He looked around the room, his brow furrowed. “Where are the children?”
“We finished our arithmetic lesson, so as a reward we
are playing a game. Hide and seek.”
“I take it they are hiding?”
“They are.”
“But you are not seeking.”
Calli bit her lip and tried not to stare right into those eyes, which seemed to render her senseless.
“I told them to stay on this floor, but they disobeyed and went upstairs. There is nothing above us but some store rooms. They will quickly tire and realize that they have nothing to gain from continuing to hide.”
“Until they continue up and reach the servants’ quarters.”
Calli’s mouth gaped open. She hadn’t considered they would go that far.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, limping out of the room as fast as she could, humiliation trailing after her. This man had a knack for seeing her at her worst. She held fast to the railing as she began to take quick, slightly painful steps upwards, until a large presence appeared beside her and lifted her lower arm onto his elbow.
“Allow me,” he said taking her weight and half-lifting her up the stairs. She wanted to tell him she was just fine, that she didn’t need his help, but they were both well aware how much of a lie that would be.
They reached the top level without incident, finding the rooms above empty of anything but old furniture and items for storage.
“Not here,” Calli murmured, before there was a slight shriek from the very end, and then the giggles of two children as they raced into the room and began their sprint toward the staircase.
Which they stopped short of when they saw Calli and their uncle.
“Uncle. Miss Donahue,” they both managed as they stared up at them, and Calli tried to hide her smile at the way they were trying to inch around the pair of them to the other side.
“Just what were you doing in there?” their uncle asked, raising a brow.
“Nothing!” Mary exclaimed at the same time Matthew said “hiding,” in a bored tone.
“And now you have come out of your hiding place, have you?” Calli asked, placing her hands on her hips. “I told you to stay on the second floor.”
The Art of Stealing a Duke’s Heart: Thieves of Desire Book 1 Page 5