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

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “Excellent,” Jonathan said. “Will you see to all of the business in order to inform the tenants of the new owner?”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Shepherd said with a nod before they proceeded to go over the ledgers that Shepherd presented.

  “Shepherd,” Jonathan said just as the man was about to leave.

  “Yes, Your Grace?”

  “We have talked before about the fact that I should soon take a wife.”

  “We have, Your Grace,” Shepherd said, hesitating slightly. “I know it is not my place to offer an opinion, but some of the houses that we oversee, well, it would be helpful to have a woman worry about many of the household issues instead. And then there are the children to consider. If you didn’t have to be the one considering governesses and things…”

  The governess. Exactly what was on his mind.

  “How much scandal do you think it would cause if I were to marry a woman from outside of the nobility?”

  Shepherd’s eyes rounded, but he knew better than to offer much commentary. “I—I couldn’t say, Your Grace, not being from the nobility myself.”

  “Right. Perhaps I better ask Davenport. I am due to meet with him shortly. Good day, Shepherd, and thank you.”

  “Your Grace,” Shepherd said with a nod, and when he was halfway out the door, he turned around and looked at Jonathan. “One more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “There are a pair of feet beneath your curtains.”

  Jonathan heard the giggle before he turned to look, and he let out a sigh.

  “Come out, Mary.”

  She scrambled out of the curtains, coming to stand in front of his desk with an eager smile.

  “Are you going to marry Miss Donahue?”

  Jonathan fixed what he hoped was a stern look on his face. “Now, Mary, I never said such a thing, you know that.”

  “But you said you were going to marry… and someone outside of the nobility. It must be Miss Donahue.”

  “I was simply asking a question about… something I was pondering,” he said, willing the child to stay silent about what she had so proudly discovered. “Now, speaking of Miss Donahue, where is she?”

  “Looking for me, undoubtedly. I hid the one place she wouldn’t dare look.”

  “Go find her, or I shall have to return you to her myself, which you most assuredly do not want.”

  The child heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Very well.”

  Jonathan shook his head as Mary skipped out of the room. He honestly didn’t think there was anything Calli or any other governess could ever do to tame these children. They had minds of their own. And the truth was? He was coming to appreciate them. Most certainly far more than he ever thought he would.

  He called for his hat and cloak and soon found himself within the hallowed grounds of White’s. He was not a frequent visitor — not as his father had been — but he far preferred the establishment to those that were of lesser repute. At least, at White’s, one knew what to expect. Who to expect. Even if that company was not always welcome.

  “Hargreave, is that a smile I see on your face?”

  Jonathan looked up to find Davenport awaiting him at a table, a decanter and two glasses in front of him.

  “Davenport, I see you’ve started without me.”

  “Well, I knew you weren’t likely to imbibe much anyway, so I might as well enjoy.”

  Jonathan nodded in agreement, even as he noted Davenport tilting his head to the side as he studied him.

  “Something is different about you,” Davenport finally said.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure,” Davenport mused. “At first I thought it was something you changed in your appearance, but the more I look at you, the more I wonder…”

  “What?” Jonathan said, becoming annoyed now.

  “You know,” Davenport put a finger on his lips, tapping it against them, “I think you actually look happy.”

  “When have I not been happy?” Jonathan asked, to which Davenport let out a bark of laughter, although he quickly sobered at Jonathan’s glare, belatedly attempting to cover his levity with a cough and a sip of his drink.

  “Well, you are usually a bit more… severe.”

  “Severe?”

  “Imposing.”

  “I see.”

  “No insult intended, Hargreave. Just an observation. But tell me… has anything changed?”

  “Well…” Jonathan hedged. He had wanted to ask Davenport his opinion but now was unsure whether or not his friend would simply ridicule him. Finally he sighed, his need to discuss the matter winning out over how Davenport might react. “I am thinking of getting married.”

  Davenport eyed him over the rim of his glass. “Getting married as in holding a ball to determine whether there might be a young woman who would suit, or getting married as in actually having a woman in mind with whom you would tie yourself for the rest of your life?”

  “The latter.”

  Davenport paused, studying Jonathan for a moment.

  “Good God, man!” He said, slamming down his now-empty cup. “You are serious.”

  “I am.”

  “Who is she?”

  Jonathan hesitated. “I’m not entirely comfortable in saying as of yet, for I have not actually discussed such a thing with the woman.”

  “What woman wouldn’t marry you?” Davenport asked with a snort. “She would be a fool to say no to a powerful man such as yourself.”

  “That’s just the thing, Davenport,” Jonathan said, his own wonder at the entire situation growing. “I think she is the one woman who actually sees me for who I am and not what my title is.”

  Davenport leaned forward on his elbows, staring at Jonathan with more intensity than he ever typically held.

  “Go on.”

  “There’s not much more to say,” he said with a shrug. “She just seems to understand me in a way that not many do. Even puts up with my… gruffness.”

  Davenport laughed at that. “Not many do.”

  “There is just one problem,” Jonathan said, with a slight grimace. “She is not from the nobility. Not even close. I don’t even know who her parents are. She was orphaned at a young age.”

  Davenport sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, this is interesting.”

  “How much of a scandal do you think it would cause?”

  “It would be the talk of the ton for a time, that is for certain,” Davenport said, scratching his chin, “although likely only until the next great scandal came along. You know how they all are.”

  “Do I ever,” Jonathan muttered.

  “I suppose,” Davenport said, tapping his glass against the table, “You have to decide what is worth more — spending your life with a woman of your own choosing, or with one who the ton would approve of?”

  Jonathan nodded. “I know I do not spend a great deal of time in the public eye, but there are times when I have to play host or attend dinner parties for one reason or another. I would not want my wife to be ridiculed.”

  “No,” Davenport said, although he seemed in agreement, “but for how long would they ridicule a duchess until they realized it was not in their best interests? If the woman is strong enough — and I would guess she is, if she is willing to go up against you — then I am sure she would be well prepared to take on whatever comes her way.”

  Lightness began to fill Jonathan’s chest.

  “You’re right,” he said, already rising without having taken a sip of the drink in front of him.

  “Leaving so soon?” Davenport asked, a twinkle in his eye, and Jonathan nodded.

  “Yes, I have… business to attend to.”

  “Give Miss Donahue my best.”

  “I wi—” Jonathan whirled around, his mouth open. “How did you know?”

  Davenport laughed with a shrug. “Lucky guess, I suppose. Best wishes, Hargreave.”

  Jonathan shocked Davenport by answering his wi
de grin with one of his own, and then he was out the door, off to win over his governess.

  * * *

  “Miss Donahue! Miss Donahue, it’s your turn to hide!”

  Calli ran across the green to find a place behind one of the benches, knowing she was not terribly well hidden but at least it gave her the ability to keep an eye on the children. She didn’t particularly enjoy playing hide-and-seek with Mary and Matthew for they were far too cunning and clever and she didn’t quite trust them, but she had run out of ideas to keep them entertained.

  “Calli.”

  Calli turned quickly to find Xander in the bush behind her and she toppled backwards. When she pushed herself back into a crouching position rather ungracefully, she glared at him.

  “Why must you continue to frighten me?” she hissed. “Now is not the time. The children will be here in moments.”

  “I know. I will be quick. Arie wants to see you. Tonight.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You must.”

  “I can’t. I am almost done with the painting. I need just a couple more nights.”

  “You should have been done days ago.”

  Calli cast her brother a withering glare. “I have been occupied.”

  “There she is!” Calli heard Mary exclaim, and she motioned Xander away.

  “I’ll be back for you at midnight,” he said as he slunk backward. “Be waiting by the servants’ entrance. Bring the statue.”

  Then he slipped away before she could respond. She was still wearing her frown when Mary found her, and she forced a smile upon her face.

  She had a lot to decide before she met with Arie tonight. She had thought she could do this, what her family expected of her, but after last night with Jonathan… her doubts grew as her affection for him increased. She had to decide what she wanted — approval from her family, or to earn Jonathan’s trust. She knew he had provided her with a great gift, and she couldn’t seem to find it within her to squander it.

  But how was she to make her family understand?

  * * *

  Jonathan felt all eyes on him once more during dinner.

  He knew it was likely because he couldn’t stop smiling. He had even found himself humming again at one point in time, until Matthew had pointed it out.

  Tonight. Tonight was the night. He was going to ask Calli to be his wife. He had a fine plan. It would just be the two of them. He would send his valet to bed early, would prepare the room himself. He wouldn’t tell anyone until afterward. He looked at Mary and Matthew, who seemed perplexed now, but who, he knew, would be so pleased when they shared the news with them.

  He couldn’t remember ever acting so impulsively — at least, since he had learned his lesson — but it felt better than he ever could have imagined.

  “Why did you invite us to dinner, Uncle?” Mary asked, never one to mince words, and Jonathan couldn’t help but smile.

  “Did you not enjoy dinner together when we were at Wyndmere?”

  “Yes, but you said we would only eat together there.”

  “Well, I find myself away from Parliament tonight, so I thought we could dine together.”

  “That is very thoughtful of your uncle, Mary, is it not?” Calli asked with a pointed look at her charge, who nodded slowly.

  “Yes. It is odd though.”

  “Mary.”

  “Sorry, Miss Donahue.”

  “Apologize to your uncle.”

  “Sorry, Uncle.”

  “Nothing to worry about.” He took a bite of the duck, prepared perfectly by the cook who had been with him for years. “Miss Donahue, you seem quiet tonight.”

  Calli’s dark head snapped up. “I do?”

  “You do,” he said, although he softened his words with a smile.

  She shrugged. “Just tired, I suppose.”

  “Not again,” he said, curling his mouth into a wicked grin as he recalled — in detail — just exactly what had kept her up all night. She flushed as she took a sip of her wine.

  “I shall be fine with a good sleep tonight,” she said with determination as she set the glass back down.

  Not if he had anything to do about it.

  He tried not to overtly watch her as they were served one course after another, finishing with chocolate cake that Calli refused but Jonathan relished, and he caught her eye as he took a bite, licking the last bit of icing from his lip. Calli looked away, but he could tell from the rise of her breast and the pulse that beat within her neck that she was not as unaffected as one might think.

  She took the children to bed shortly after dinner, and Jonathan found it difficult to keep himself occupied and not think of what was to come in the hour or so that followed. He prepared his bedchamber with candles, stoking the fire continually to ensure it was warm enough for her, and even brought in a bouquet of red and yellow flowers he had spied on the hall table, as foolish as he felt in doing so.

  But he wanted everything to be right.

  He walked over to the chest of drawers in the corner, pulling out the middle drawer, feeling around beneath the garments within until he found the hard box he was looking for.

  He snapped open the lid, staring at, for the first time in many years, the ring his grandmother had worn. He had given it to another, once, and had been fortunate enough to have it returned — at least, after he had threatened complete ruination.

  Jonathan intended that the next time he gave it away, it would stay on the finger of the woman for the rest of her life.

  Now all she had to do was agree.

  Finally, the hour was sufficient for him to go to her. Secretly, he had been hoping that she would return to his bedroom herself, but he could understand her hesitancy in doing so.

  He took a breath before knocking lightly on her door, waiting with great anticipation for her face to peek through.

  But there was no response.

  He slowly turned the knob and pushed open the door, only to find the room void of any presence, the fire even down to embers in the hearth.

  Calli wasn’t here — so just where had she gone?

  Chapter 19

  “Arie, I really don’t have time to be here. I told Xander that.”

  “So he related to me. But Calli, I don’t have time to wait any longer either. My buyer is running out of patience. This entire affair should have been dealt with days ago.”

  “Replicating a master’s work is not as simple as you might think.”

  Arie fixed a benevolent smile on her, one that she hated, for it made her feel like a young child.

  “That is not what you said when you assured me weeks ago that you could take this on. Something has changed, Calli. Best you start telling me just what that is.”

  Calli looked around the room for sympathy from her other siblings. But Diana, of course, stood beside Arie, his ever-faithful general, while even Xander seemed to be awaiting her response. Damien looked pained, as he always did whenever he could sense controversy within the family.

  “You must understand, Arie, that I am working with the children all day and then painting all night. It is exhausting.”

  “Right,” Arie said, standing from the chair that Calli knew he considered his throne of sorts before he walked toward her. He leaned over her chair, holding her captive between his arms as he stared her down. “So none of those nocturnal hours are spent… otherwise?”

  His eyes flashed and, in that moment, Calli knew. He was aware of her relationship with Jonathan. How much he knew, she had no idea, but however much it was, it was enough.

  She must act ignorant. She gasped aloud indignantly. “How dare you?”

  “How dare I what? Find out? I have eyes and ears everywhere. Even in a duke’s castle.”

  Calli cast a look over at Xander, who wouldn’t meet her eye. She gritted her teeth, for she was well aware where those ‘eyes and ears’ usually came from — pretty maids or serving girls that Xander charmed.

  “There is nothing to discover. The duke and
I have become… friends, yes, but nothing more. Which is a good thing, for then he has little cause to suspect me.”

  “And you still feel that you can betray your… friend?”

  Arie leaned back now, releasing her, and Calli took a breath of the air that seemed to return once he gave her space.

  “If I am to be honest, I will tell you that I do feel some guilt at the fact that I am deceiving him, yes,” Calli said, determined to hold true to the promise she had made to herself. She was going to make this right. She was going to make all of this right. She just wasn’t sure how. Not yet. “He took me into his home, gave me a position on his staff. It just feels… wrong to do this to him.”

  As Diana’s eyes widened, Arie snorted in disgust.

  “He is a duke, Calli. It will make no difference to him whether or not one painting goes missing. For him it is equivalent to anyone else losing a pound note. He likely won’t even be the wiser.”

  Except Calli would know. And she knew far better — yes, it may be inconsequential to Jonathan in terms of wealth, but if he were to discover her deception, it would change everything. He would not only never want to see her again, but he might be forever changed.

  She swallowed, standing as she faced Arie, determined not to let him intimidate her.

  “I would know, Arie.”

  He scoffed at her. “You never were quite one of us.”

  The words struck her painfully deep within, far more than she could ever allow him to know, causing her to shake so hard she had to grip her hands into fists at her side to keep him from seeing their trembling. Diana’s gaze flicked down, perceptive as always.

  “Arie,” Xander said, unfurling his long frame from where he sat astride a hard-backed chair. “That’s not fair. Calli has never been anything but loyal to all of us.”

  “Until now, apparently.”

  Xander looked uncertainly from Arie to Calli, as though unsure of just where his loyalty should lie. That hurt nearly as much as Arie’s words for, if anything, she thought she would always have the support of the brother who had been there since the day she was born.