The Art of Stealing a Duke’s Heart: Thieves of Desire Book 1

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “We tried,” Mary said with a sigh, “but we were bored so we came up here. But then we found it boring here too.”

  “Until we found a spider,” Matthew said with a grin, “so we put it in on one of the maid’s pillows. Then we were coming back to you, Miss Donahue.”

  Calli rubbed the bridge of her nose, wondering how she was ever going to get through to these children.

  “At least it wasn’t your bed, Miss Donahue!” Matthew exclaimed at her look of chagrin. “We like you too much.”

  He seemed as pleased with the words as Calli was, but now wasn’t the time for praise. She awkwardly bent to kneel on the floor.

  “That doesn’t make it right, Matthew,” she said. “Now that lovely maid will likely be unable to sleep.”

  He looked off in the distance, his actions and his conscience apparently at odds. “Very well,” he muttered.

  “Very well, what?”

  “I won’t do it again.”

  “Good. Now, back down to the nursery for you two. I’ve got a spider to catch.”

  The duke persisted in seeing her up the one flight of steps, where he left her, although Calli could feel every imprint of his gaze upon her back.

  “Miss Donahue?”

  She turned.

  “You did well.” He nodded, and then was gone, his enigma maintained.

  * * *

  Jonathan couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, fortunately long enough after Miss Donahue and the children were out of earshot.

  She was surprising, this one. She most certainly was far from what he would ever expect from a governess in every way, but perhaps she was what these children needed.

  He only wished that he wasn’t so in tune with the sway of her hips as she walked away, nor quite so affected by the curl of her smile, the teasing look in her eyes as she regarded him, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. He could only pray that she had no inkling whatsoever of his thoughts, for then he would be a doomed man.

  “Your Grace?”

  He turned to find his butler at the end of the hall, watching him with an amused expression on his face that Jonathan had no wish to speculate about.

  “Yes?”

  “Shepherd is here to meet with you.”

  “Ah, good.” How had he forgotten that his man-of-business was to arrive at this hour?

  Oh, yes. Because Miss Donahue had distracted him.

  Not on purpose, but still, distract him she had.

  “Please see him into the study,” Jonathan said, then turned around, clasped his arms behind his back, and returned to where he belonged.

  Chapter 8

  Calli stared at the note in her hands.

  Family meeting. Xander will fetch you at midnight.

  She sighed. There had been no mistaking that thick black scrawl. Arie expected her and she knew he would not take no for an answer. Even if her “no” was on account of her requiring more time to work on the painting.

  The truth was, however, that while she was falling behind in her self-imposed timeline, she knew part of the reason she was doing so was her own self-doubt.

  Not doubt in her abilities — she knew she was capable of replicating even a master, for it came down to copying, stroke for stroke. A true expert would realize that it was a fake, that was certain, but she wondered if the duke even appreciated what he had.

  At least she tried to use that thought to make her feel better.

  She balled the note in her hand now as she crept down the stairs and then through the house to the servants’ entrance. Fortunately, all were abed now, the maids and the cook having to wake in just a few hours to prepare the household.

  Calli herself would be getting no sleep tonight. She sighed once more dramatically as she let herself out into the cool night air, wondering how she was going to get through an entire day with two children and no sleep.

  Obviously, her eldest brother didn’t care.

  “Calli!” Xander jumped out of the shadows, wrapping a hand around her arm so quickly that she jumped and would have yelped had she not been accustomed to expect the unexpected.

  “Xander,” she said, swatting him instead, “you nearly scared me half to death.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “Best go quickly. Carriage is waiting.”

  Calli’s family was one of the few living in St. Giles who could afford a carriage. But that was part of the spoils of their business — and also a necessary piece to many of their plots.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Xander asked, stopping suddenly, staring down at her ankle, and Calli realized belatedly that, while her ankle had healed quite a bit since her fall a few days ago, she was still favoring it.

  “I rolled my ankle,” she said, tugging at his arm and urging him forward, eager to have this meeting over and done with. If she was lucky, she might be able to return home for an hour or two of sleep.

  Her breath caught.

  Home? By home did she mean the duke’s townhouse? She was obviously far too tired already for her thoughts weren’t even making sense.

  “How did you do that?” Xander asked, his brows furrowing together in concern.

  “I had the children in the park,” she said, deciding not to elaborate any further. Xander had spent his life worrying about her, and there was no point in exaggerating that worry when there was really nothing to be done about it anyway.

  “And?”

  “And I had to chase one of them and rolled my ankle. It’s fine. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

  He nodded as he held out a hand to help her up into the carriage, but when he turned and the moonlight struck his face, she saw the worry there and knew she was going to hear about it in his own Xander way.

  “Calli, I’m worried,” he said predictably as the carriage began trundling down the pavement, away from this expanse the duke — and apparently, now Calli — called home.

  “Why?” she asked, turning her gaze on him, burrowing into her cloak for warmth.

  “I don’t like you all alone in that house, doing this without any support from the rest of us.”

  “I understand, but it’s too late for that now, Xander. I can do this. You know I can. Arie has never trusted me with anything like this before, and I want to prove to him that I’m as worthy as the rest of you.”

  “Calli…”

  “It’s true. You have the quick hands, Diana has always been the manipulator, Damian has the brute strength, and Arie, of course, is the master schemer. I have barely done anything to earn my keep.”

  “That isn’t true, and no one sees it like that. You help hold the entire family together.”

  “Well, maybe I want more.”

  The words were harsher than she meant them to be, and as Xander flinched and sank back into the shadows, she instantly wanted to recall them. But there was too much truth within them.

  “We’ll speak with the rest of them,” he finally said, crossing his arms over his chest and settling back against the squabs. Agreeing to disagree in silence, Calli closed her eyes for the rest of the short drive to St. Giles.

  Which was why it seemed like just a few minutes later that she was seated in her usual place in the corner of the sofa, back within the comforts of her family home, in the company of those she loved more than any others.

  It was a familiar scene, one that should fill her with warmth and the reminder of everything and everyone she loved.

  But tonight she was uneasy, on edge.

  “Calli,” Arie said from his Louis XV chair with its off-white hide near the fireplace, looking his part of the head of a criminal organization. Even if that criminal organization was his family — a family that he had pieced together over the years. “It is good to have you home.”

  “It is good to be home, to see you all,” she said, even as Damian nudged her playfully and Diana studied her thoughtfully. Nothing here had changed, it seemed. Diana was still suspicious of everything and everyone, including her own family.

  �
��Diana told us all what happened the night of the party,” Arie continued, his voice deep and unyielding, somewhat questioning. “You thought quickly on your feet.”

  “Thank you, Arie,” Calli said softly, proud at his words.

  “Are you sure, however, that this is a good idea?” Arie continued. “How is the work coming along?”

  “The painting?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is… coming. But slowly,” Calli said, looking around, slightly uneasy to find them all staring at her with such question, as though they were wondering if this was something she could actually achieve. Well, she would show them all that they had not made a mistake in placing their faith in her.

  “The painting itself hangs in the study, which makes it difficult to properly copy. However, I have the initial sketch completed and I hope to start painting tomorrow.”

  “Why is it taking so long?” Arie asked, ignoring the work she had already completed. Arie was never one to focus on accomplishments, always looking forward at what was still to come.

  “I am with the children all day,” she explained as best she could, hoping they would understand. “I hardly have a minute alone. It is not until everyone is abed that I can truly work, and even then, it isn’t long as I have to rise early to see to the children’s needs.”

  “How long until you are finished?”

  Calli nibbled her lip as she considered the question. “Another two weeks, maybe three at most? It is an intricate painting with much detail.”

  Arie was silent for a moment, considering.

  “Very well. Xander will continue to check up on you. In two weeks, we will plan a date to help you to switch out the paintings.”

  “Thank you,” Calli said, glad that this had gone better than she had hoped.

  “There’s one other thing that Arie and I have discussed,” Diana said, no longer silently watching, and Calli’s heart dropped. She loved Diana, but Diana was rather… detached. Unsentimental.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t get close to those children, do you hear me?” she said, holding up a finger, although her face was not unkind. “You have a tender heart, Calli, and if you get too close to that family, you are likely to back out of this altogether. I know you.”

  “Calli?” Arie sat forward, peering into her face. “She’s right.”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Calli said, leaning back self-righteously, annoyed that they would all doubt her, even though they had a point, for she was already feeling her fair share of pricks of guilt. “I am going to do this — to make you proud, to steal the painting, to help sell it for a great profit. It will turn out — just you wait and see.”

  * * *

  Jonathan ran his hands through his hair as he paced the study back and forth.

  Shepherd had presented him with quite the opportunity today. The question was, did he take the risk and go ahead, or stay the course?

  If he bought the land attached to his current home in Kent, it could further his rents and estate for years to come.

  But he had already decided to expand into shipping, and he didn’t want to leave himself stretched too thin.

  He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t hear the sound of a door closing, somewhere deep within the house. Almost.

  But it was far too late for any servant to be up. He had even sent his valet to bed, telling him that he could manage, despite the servant’s protest to the contrary.

  He was going to leave the noise, sure that it was nothing of note, but then he worried that perhaps one of the children had risen from bed and was now wandering the house. Did children sleepwalk? Having little experience with children, he had no idea, but knew that a staircase could be treacherous for a young child who didn’t know the house well.

  He opened the door and walked to the foot of the stairs, looking up to see if anyone was about, but it was far too dark without any lanterns. He turned around to fetch a candle from his office — and ran right into a cloaked governess.

  “Not again,” Miss Donahue mumbled, and Jonathan nearly smiled, but he was too concerned as to where she had been and what she had been up to.

  “Miss Donahue,” he said dryly. “Fancy meeting you here in the middle of the night.”

  “You are awake quite late, Your Grace!” she exclaimed. “It’s near four o’clock in the morning.”

  “Is it?” he said, aware that he should likely get to bed, but that was one of the most wondrous things about being a duke — he could sleep when he pleased.

  Not that Jonathan slept much.

  “So tell me, Miss Donahue,” he said, ignoring her question, “just what are you doing up at such an hour?”

  “I—” her mouth opened and closed as she seemed to be deciding what exactly she should say, and his eyes narrowed as he became aware that whatever she was about to tell him would be an obvious lie. “I had a family emergency arise.”

  “Oh?” he said, stepping back so that he could better assess the expression on her face. Unfortunately, the corridor was too dark to ascertain what she was thinking. “What kind of emergency would that be, requiring you to sneak out of your employer’s house in the middle of the night?”

  “I didn’t want to go during the day and leave the children,” she protested. “This seemed like the best time.”

  He didn’t miss the fact that she was still avoiding his question.

  “What was the emergency?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She held her chin up defiantly, and Jonathan wanted nothing more than to take that chin between his fingers and force her to realize that she was under his employ, that what happened to her mattered to him.

  Although why, he couldn’t have said for the life of him.

  Her eyes glinted at him in challenge, however, and he knew he would never win a battle with her by forcing her to reveal anything to him.

  “If something is amiss… perhaps I can help,” he offered, and she looked up at him with surprise.

  “You could help?” she repeated incredulously.

  “Of course,” he said. “I consider anyone who works for me to be part of my family.”

  She snorted, causing him to take a step forward so he could try to ascertain just what she was thinking, throwing his words back in his face.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “You hardly consider your own niece and nephew as part of your family,” she said, color rising to her cheeks as she likely realized she had said the wrong thing, although it didn’t seem to stop her. “I hardly think you would feel such a thing about a woman you just met.”

  He was silent for a moment, anger brewing deep in his belly. Who did she think she was, this woman, to come into his house in the middle of the night and talk to him so?

  “Miss Donahue—”

  “Your Grace,” she cut him off, holding up a hand, and he was too shocked to reply for a moment. “Please, before you say anything… my apologies. It’s late. I’m tired, and I said things that I should not have said. Forgive me?”

  She looked up at him in such supplication, he found he had no choice but to agree.

  He couldn’t help himself. He stepped ever closer. So close, that when he did what he had been longing to do and brought his thumb beneath her chin, she had no choice but to follow his silent command and bend her head backward to look up at him.

  “You’re forgiven,” he whispered, his mouth but an inch away from hers, and he grinned in satisfaction when he caught the hitch in her breath. “But don’t let it happen again.”

  Before he did something he knew he would forever regret, he released her abruptly and strode away.

  It was only after she had escaped back up the stairs that he realized she never did tell him where she had been.

  She had won, after all.

  Chapter 9

  Calli stilled herself mid-yawn when she sensed a presence in the room. For she knew without turning around exactly who it would be.


  “Uncle!” Mary exclaimed, and Callie sighed before standing.

  “Children,” he greeted them perfunctorily before turning to Calli. “Miss Donahue. Tired, are we?”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” she said, even though she was perfectly longing to return to her bed and settle in for another few hours. Damn Arie and his late-night meetings. “What brings you here to the nursery, Your Grace?”

  “Schoolroom,” Matthew noted from the table in front of her.

  She nodded. “Apologies, Matthew. The schoolroom.”

  “I believe I am allowed to go wherever I please in my own home, am I not?” he asked, and Calli’s ears burned. It seemed she was forever saying exactly what she shouldn’t. Would she ever learn proper manners before it was time to leave?

  “I only meant… I was wondering if we could help you with anything.”

  “At ease, Miss Donahue. I was only teasing.”

  Calli’s eyes widened as she stared at him. The Duke of Hargreave… teasing? She squinted as she studied him. Could that possibly be the hint of a smile dancing around his lips?

  “As it is, I have some news for all of you. We are going to be travelling to the Kent estate for a short time.”

  Calli’s heart began to beat loudly in her ears. To Kent? But what about her painting? How easy would it be to pack the canvas and her supplies and transport them there? How would her brother keep watch on her? This was not part of the plan. Not at all.

  But it wasn’t as though she was exactly in a place to voice those reservations.

  “Is it not currently the Season, Your Grace?”

  “It is, but we are coming close to the end and I’m sure Parliament will be fine without me for a short time. Let someone else worry about everything for a few days. I need to look at some adjoining land.”

  “The children and I could remain in London,” Calli offered, her mind already speeding ahead, considering the ample amount of time she would have to sit and paint in the study, right in front of the original, without fear of being caught. Her memory was exemplary, that was for certain, and she had already managed a small reproduction to work from, but there would be no greater opportunity than painting with the work right in front of her.