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

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “I’m sure it would be good for the children to get out into the country. Unless that is a problem for you, Miss Donahue?”

  Calli forced herself to shake her head.

  “No, most certainly not.”

  “Good. Be ready to leave by tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  Her head snapped up. She would have to work quickly to get word to her family.

  “Yes, tomorrow,” the duke said, his blue eyes staring near through her. “Is that acceptable to you, Miss Donahue?”

  Noting his mocking tone, she nodded, although she didn’t break his gaze, accepting the silent challenge he put forth to her before she returned her attention to the children, who wore grins now as they stared at their uncle.

  “Grandmother isn’t going to be there, is she?” Matthew asked with some trepidation, but Jonathan seemed to be covering a smile as he shook his head.

  “We haven’t been to Kent in some time, Uncle!” Mary exclaimed, to which the duke grunted.

  “No. Business has kept me in London. But we should try to spend the summer there.”

  Mary and Matthew clapped their hands excitedly, and Calli couldn’t help but look at them with a sad smile. She would be long gone from their lives by summer… another person who came into their world and then left, other priorities much more important.

  But what was she supposed to do?

  “Well, children,” she said, brightly — perhaps too brightly, “I suppose that is enough spelling for today then. Shall we prepare for our journey?”

  They agreed excitedly, beginning to run around the room and pack nearly every belonging they owned for the short stay.

  As the duke walked away, his footsteps echoing in the near-empty corridor, Calli searched desperately for a piece of paper. She had a letter to write.

  * * *

  Jonathan paced the foyer, arms crossed as he waited. And waited.

  He was not a man of patience.

  “Thurston!”

  “Yes, Your Grace?” The butler stopped abruptly from the path he had been treading while overseeing the travelling arrangements.

  “Where are the children? They were supposed to have been prepared to leave near an hour ago.”

  “I shall go check, Your Grace,” he said, but before he could start up the stairs, a loud clatter arose from above, and soon the children were racing one another down the steps, with Miss Donahue in their wake.

  She wore a creamy white gown today that accentuated her olive skin, and while he knew he should be reprimanding the children for running in the house and potentially falling down the stairs, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  She was stunning. He knew the gown was nothing particularly elaborate and would have been frowned upon by any self-respecting woman of the ton, but it didn’t matter.

  Miss Donahue reminded him of a goddess come to life. Before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, he had stepped up to the stairs as though he was escorting her through some ball and held his arm up to her.

  Her eyes flashed in surprise, but she placed her fingers upon his arm anyway, letting them rest tentatively.

  “Your Grace?” her lips parted on the near breathless words.

  “You’re late.”

  Well, that was not exactly what he had meant to say, but it was the only thing that came to mind besides telling her just how beautiful she was, which he absolutely could never do.

  The spell between them broken, she dipped her head. “My apologies. There was just so much the children wanted to take with them. We must have packed and re-packed dozens of times, but it should all be prepared now and in the carriage.”

  Her gaze flicked through the doors to the waiting carriage out front as though it held her most prized possessions, which was ridiculous of course. The woman would have nothing more than a few gowns and whatever materials she used for teaching the children.

  “Very well. Off we go now. Children, into the carriage.”

  He led her out and held up a hand to help her in. She turned around, looking back over her shoulder, her hat dipping low over her eyes, and Jonathan had to stifle a groan at the picture she made, half-bent so that she wouldn’t hit her head on the door.

  “Are you not coming?” she asked, and Jonathan was tempted to run up the carriage steps and follow her in.

  But that would never do.

  He shook his head adamantly. “I shall ride General beside the carriage. We haven’t far to go.”

  She nodded and disappeared, though Jonathan couldn’t avert his gaze until his groom appeared with his horse.

  “Your Grace.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  And they were off, without a look backward.

  * * *

  Calli peered out the window, grateful that the duke hadn’t turned around.

  For if he had, he might have seen a tall presence lurking within his front rose bushes.

  A presence who looked an awful lot like Calli herself.

  Lifting the curtain of the window on the side opposite the duke, Calli stretched her hand out into the air with a quick wave for Xander. Her note had gotten through to her family. They knew where she would be and hopefully wouldn’t worry about her. At least not too much.

  She drew in a breath as she leaned back against the squabs. She, however, was worried. Worried about the effect the arrogant, belligerent duke was having on her. He was too handsome for his own good, and while Calli typically despised men who told her what to do, somehow when the duke commanded her, it sent delicious thrills down her spine.

  And here she was, working on swindling him, stealing his most prized painting. She wondered if he would have more adorning the walls of his country home. Would there be a gallery of paintings, she wondered? And just what would she do if there was?

  She groaned at her wickedness. She was caught between two worlds, and she had to admit that she didn’t properly belong in either one. But her family was her family. Arie had taken Xander in for his abilities, and had agreed to look out for her as well. She was finally repaying him the only way she could, and she couldn’t take that responsibility lightly.

  “Miss Donahue? Are you all right?”

  Calli cracked open an eye to peer across the carriage at the children, who were staring at her with a great deal of concern, and she managed a smile for them.

  “Just fine. My apologies.”

  “You look like you swallowed a grasshopper,” Matthew said, his face screwed up as he studied her.

  She barked out a laugh at that. “And just how do you know what it looks like to swallow a grasshopper?”

  “We tried it last summer.”

  “Oh,” she said, not wanting to pursue that matter any further — although she did have to make sure they wouldn’t do it again under her watch. “And… how did you find that?”

  “Not something worth repeating.”

  “Oh, good,” she said, exhaling slowly.

  “Let’s play a game,” Mary said.

  “Very well. What shall we play?”

  At Mary’s request, they began a game in which they had to guess objects through clues, and when Mary said she spied something black, Calli knew, following her gaze, that it was her uncle’s jacket. As she guessed correctly, she couldn’t keep herself from watching the duke. He was so proper, so particular, so focused on doing what he was supposed to do. She wondered if he knew what it was like to have fun, if he ever threw off the cloak of responsibility to discover what else life had to offer.

  Then he turned toward the carriage, causing Calli to quickly drop the curtain as she slammed back into the seat.

  But it was too late. He had seen her.

  * * *

  “Your Grace?”

  Jonathan rode closer to the carriage and when Miss Donahue stuck her head out — this time wanting his notice. He had to say he had enjoyed seeing her flustered when he had caught her staring.

  “Yes?”

  “Th
e children would like a break.”

  “We shall be there shortly.”

  “Yes, I know, but perhaps, if there is a chance, they could stop and stretch their legs? Cook packed a lunch as well. It might be nice to eat outdoors.”

  Jonathan looked at the road ahead with longing. He hated to delay travel, but he supposed with children, one must, now and again, make allowances.

  “Very well,” he grumbled, riding forward to speak with the carriage driver.

  Soon they came across a small clearing on the side of the road, and they pulled over and alighted. The children bounced out of the carriage as though they had been trapped within for days instead of hours, Mary executing a perfect cartwheel as they ran across the clearing.

  “Children!” Jonathan called after them, but Miss Donahue waved a hand. “They won’t go far. They’re too hungry.”

  She was right. Soon enough they came wandering back, eager to discover the contents of the basket Calli held within her hands.

  Jonathan had to admit that he was equally curious.

  Packed on top of the food was a blanket that Miss Donahue stretched out on the grass before she began to pull out chicken legs and various fruits and vegetables.

  She looked up at him from beneath her lashes when his stomach growled.

  “Perhaps you were hungry,” she said teasingly, and he grunted in response, not willing to accede.

  She was right, however, which must have been apparent when they all dove in and began to eat, so focused that they didn’t say anything for a few minutes as they stared out ahead of them at the wide open fields and forest beyond.

  “Is this what your land looks like?” Miss Donahue asked him, and he nodded. “Some of it. The parts that aren’t currently used for agriculture.”

  “I see. I’m sure we would love a tour of it once we arrive.”

  “Perhaps,” he said, not promising anything.

  “Miss Donahue, Uncle, shall we play a game?” Matthew asked once he was done, and Jonathan waved him on.

  “You go ahead.”

  “A quick game of tag, please?” he asked, looking at them pleadingly. “It’s not much fun with just two.”

  “Very well,” Miss Donahue said, “I shall play for just a few minutes, and then we must continue on. Your uncle has much work to do in Kent. Now, get running, for here I come!”

  The children took off with shrieks while Miss Donahue followed with a laugh. Jonathan sat back, wrapping one arm around his knee as he watched them. What would it be like, to be so carefree, to be able to run without so many responsibilities weighing one down, near choking him?

  He didn’t have much longer to think about it, for Matthew ran by and slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Uncle, you’re it!”

  “Pardon me?”

  “You’re it!” Matthew laughed as he ran away, and Jonathan slowly got to his feet, looking around to see where the rest of them were. Little Mary was near Matthew, while Miss Donahue, perhaps not realizing the threat he posed yet, was nearing him.

  The color had risen in her cheeks from her exertions, her bonnet was hanging down her back from its ribbons, and her hair had escaped most of its pins, tangled around her head in a riot of wild black curls — curls that he longed to reach out and capture within his fingers.

  “Miss Donahue!” he called out, and she turned to him, her chest heaving from running. “Here I come!”

  She let out a yelp as he began to give chase, and he caught her just as she began to run down an incline. He tripped as he reached out toward her, and before he knew it he had lost his footing and was falling to the ground, taking her with him.

  He managed to turn at the last moment, taking her weight so that she wouldn’t be hurt, and the two of them tumbled over one another until they finally came to a rest.

  Mortified, Jonathan pushed himself up and hovered overtop of her. “Miss Donahue, are you injured? Did you hurt your ankle again? I’m so sorry, I—”

  She looked up at him with bright, laughing eyes.

  “Nothing to worry about. I am just fine.”

  “But—”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, reaching her hand up to cup his cheek, and he couldn’t help but lean into it, her touch soothing, calming. “Are you?”

  “Yes,” he said, nodding slowly. “Yes, I am.”

  He forgot everything in that moment. Everything but her, this woman in front of him. Below him. He leaned down slowly, seeing nothing but those plush red lips, wanting nothing other than to feel them on his.

  “Miss Donahue—”

  “Call me Calli,” she whispered, and he blinked.

  “Calli.”

  He leaned in, about to take her lips—

  “Uncle!”

  And sighed. He closed his eyes for a moment then met her amused gaze as he pushed himself to his feet while his niece and nephew came running to check on them.

  He didn’t know whether to be regretful or thankful for their presence.

  For he had been about to do something he had no right in doing.

  But something that he wanted to do very, very much.

  Chapter 10

  Calli did her utmost to carefully ignore the duke.

  She could feel his gaze upon her as she re-entered the carriage, her heart still pounding from the game of chase — a game that had ended very differently than she ever could have expected.

  He had nearly kissed her. There, in a field in the middle of nowhere, and in front of his niece and nephew, no less.

  Calli brought a hand to her lips, wondering what it would have felt like had they not been interrupted. Would he have kissed as intensely and as purposefully as he seemed to do everything else? Would he have been cold and refined, or rough and demanding?

  It was hard to know who he was deep within, as opposed to the façade that he presented to the world.

  He had been correct that Wyndmere, his estate in Kent, was not particularly far from their luncheon location, and it was impossibly too soon that he was holding out a hand to help her down from the carriage. She had to will every ounce of courage she possessed to look him in the eye as he did so.

  Much to the children’s chagrin but to her delight, once they were inside he soon took himself deep within — likely to his study, Calli supposed — and they were left alone with the housekeeper, who greeted them enthusiastically.

  “Hello! You must be the governess. And you, Mary and Matthew, have grown considerably since I last saw you.”

  The children looked up wide-eyed at the plump, spirited housekeeper who beamed down at them as they tried to make out what she was saying through her thick Scottish accent.

  “Thank you?” Mary said, scratching her head.

  “Come now, let’s take you up to your rooms and then you can be off exploring.”

  They followed her up the huge front stairway, which had even Calli looking around in wonder. The curving bannister with its mahogany handrail was polished near shining, and everywhere she looked it seemed there were portraits and landscapes staring down at her. Were these the work of masters or had they been commissioned for the family — perhaps both? She wished she was better educated, but from what she could tell they were all done with a hand that certainly possessed great talent.

  She sighed, wishing she could remain and study the work at length, but when she looked up, it was to find that the children were already at the first landing. She hurried up after them, the paintings reminding her of her own and the importance of keeping it from any prying eyes. She had been so rattled from her encounter with Jonathan that she had forgotten to fetch her things herself, and was now looking around desperately for her bags.

  “Mrs.…”

  “McDonald.”

  “Mrs. McDonald, do you know where our bags might be?”

  “I imagine one of the footmen will be delivering them to your rooms around the time we get there,” she said, looking back at her. “Is there anything you need? I’m sure we can come up
with something.”

  “It’s fine,” Calli said, knowing that there would be no reason for any footman to go through her things. She took a breath at the children’s quizzical expressions and followed them up, eager to continue on the tour.

  The nursery was most certainly designed for young children, and when she pushed open the door, it creaked from disuse.

  “Apologies,” Mrs. McDonald said with a shrug. “There hasn’t been much need for the room in many years. But we’ve cleared away the cribs and rockers, and moved in a couple of beds for the children. Miss…”

  “Donahue.”

  She truly hated to use the name of another woman as her own, but it wasn’t as though Calli had much choice.

  “Your room is just across the hall. There’s an adjoining sitting room as well.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. McDonald.”

  “Of course. Anything you need, just ask. Now, as much as I would love to stay with ye for the rest of the day, I best be going.”

  Calli smiled warmly at the woman who had been more welcoming than the rest of the staff thus far.

  With relief, she saw a footman approach, carrying their bags, and she had to stop herself from running down the hall to take hers from him.

  “Well,” she said to the children with a smile, “what do you say we do a little exploring?”

  They eagerly agreed, and they spent the rest of the day looking down corridors and finding hidden rooms, the children taking great delight in playing underneath sheets that had been draped over furniture in parlors and in bedrooms that hadn’t seen guests in obviously quite some time. Calli, who had always been used to a house — a smaller house of course, but a house still — that was practically bursting with people, found it rather sad. Lonely. How long had the duke been by himself? Where was his mother? Did he have any other siblings besides Mary and Matthew’s mother? Cousins? Or had he always been alone?

  It would explain a lot if he didn’t, Calli mused, as she followed the children down the hall, catching up to them when they stopped by what was apparently a locked door.