The Art of Stealing a Duke’s Heart by Ellie St. Clair

Chapter 20

She should have just told him the truth.

But if she had, she didn’t think he would ever forgive her. And why, by all that was holy, did he want to meet her family?

While Calli hoped her explanations that night had been reasonable, she was aware that she had broken some degree of trust between them — trust that she knew Jonathan didn’t take lightly. For the past two days, he had kept distance between them, not coming to her at night, and all but ignoring her during the day. They did not eat dinner together as he was back in Parliament, and Calli found herself having to explain to the children their uncle’s seemingly sudden abandonment.

“He has been busy,” she said the following morning. “But he promised we would go to Gunter’s today.”

“He did?” Mary asked, her eyes brightening. “It has been some time since I have been to Gunter’s.”

“I have never been.”

They stared at her with mouths agape.

“You haven’t?”

“No,” she laughed at their shock. “I haven’t.”

She had sent a message to her family, addressing it to Xander. She asked if he and Damien would come, and hoped that Arie and Diana would not accompany them. Arie would raise all of Jonathan’s suspicions, while one never knew just what Diana was going to say. She would also certainly report everything back to Arie.

This morning, a cryptic note had arrived for her at the servants’ entrance — one the butler passed to her with as much wariness as Jonathan held for her.

It read, see you at Gunter’s.

Thankfully, Calli recognized Xander’s handwriting, but she had no idea just who would be accompanying him.

They would find out soon. Three hours later, she and the children were descending the staircase to meet Jonathan. She lifted her gaze to his with some trepidation, but his face was devoid of any emotion or sign of what he was thinking. She sighed.

“Come, children,” she said, leading them out to the waiting carriage, Jonathan following.

The carriage ride was filled with the children’s chattering, both of them excited for the awaiting treat. Calli sat across from Jonathan, looking out the window as she tried to evade his probing stare.

“Is there anything amiss, Miss Donahue?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” she said, forcing a smile. “Nothing at all.”

“Who from your family shall be joining us?”

“I am not entirely sure,” she said truthfully. They disembarked at Gunter’s, and Calli breathed in relief that it wasn’t crowded today, that at least there would not be many witnesses to whatever was going to occur here.

They descended from the carriage to find Xander — and Arie, who smiled at her with such slickness that Calli nearly went rigid. As it was, Matthew had to poke her to take another step into the small shop.

“Calli,” Arie greeted her as the two imposing men walked over toward them. “How good for you to invite us.”

“Your Grace, may I please introduce my brothers, Xander and Arie H—Donahue?” She fixed a gaze on them, pleading for them to go along, but she had nothing to fear. They were both well versed in the art of deception.

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” Arie said with a graceful bow. “And these must be the two amazing children our Calli has told us all about.”

Mary giggled while Matthew looked wary, and Calli was impressed that he could already see through her brother’s facade.

“Tell me, how fares your ailing—uncle, was it?” Jonathan asked warmly, and fortunately the only thing to skip a beat was Calli’s heart.

“Doing much better,” Arie said smoothly. “Much better indeed. We so appreciate Calli’s diligence to ensure that he is well.”

“Of course you do,” Jonathan said. “Why don’t I buy us all some ice and we can continue this conversation?”

“We can pay for our own,” Arie said, straightening, and Calli hoped he would not allow his arrogance to ruin everything.

“I invited you here,” Jonathan said, the ducal authority in his voice barring any argument. “I will pay.”

Arie held his head high as he eyed Jonathan, the two of them in some kind of masculine standoff, and Calli rolled her eyes as she stepped up between them to try to ease the tension.

“Thank you so much, Your Grace,” she said. “Shall we choose our flavours?”

Fortunately, the children broke much of the strains of unease with their exuberance, and soon enough they were all sitting around a table in a corner of the shop, licking their ices while they stared at one another. Calli would have found it comical was she not the one who was in the middle of it all.

“Tell me more about what you do,” Jonathan said to her brothers. “Calli tells me that you are in trade?”

“We are,” Arie said, a slow smile spreading across his face at Calli’s description of how they made their living. “We specialize in priceless items.”

“Such as?”

“Artifacts. Paintings. Items that usually go to auction. We find specialized buyers for them.”

“Sounds like something illicit,” Jonathan said, lowering his ice as he considered Arie, and Arie’s eyes darkened, causing Calli’s pulse to quicken. When Arie became angry, one did not want to be in his way.

“I assure you that all who we work with are deserving of what they receive,” Arie said, his words clipped, and Calli and Xander exchanged a look.

“Jon—His Grace has made investments in trade himself,” Calli added, trying to turn the direction of the conversation, “so he is interested in the work of others.”

“A duke who sullies his hands in trade?” Arie said, raising his eyebrows. “How intriguing.”

“Intriguing, or intelligent?” Jonathan shot back, and Calli sighed inwardly. This had been the worst idea anyone had ever had. Why hadn’t she tried harder to avoid it? “I have made far more through my investments than I ever have through my entailments. I am able to properly provide for others because of it.”

“Provide for people such as my sister?” Arie said, leaning forward now. “For I assure you that I can do a fine enough job of that myself.”

“Then just why did she find employment as my governess?” Jonathan asked, obviously quite interested now in the answer to the question, and Calli saw the flicker of annoyance in Arie’s eyes when he realized his misstep.

“I believe I can answer that,” Calli said, leaning forward from where she sat next to the children. “It is important to me to provide for myself, to have a purpose in life.”

Which was true.

“I see,” Jonathan said, although he eyed her with some distrust that caused an unease deep within her belly to grow. “Although I recall how you developed your interest in painting. I’m surprised that you were so in awe by my gallery if you are usually surrounded by works that your brother trades in.”

“I… don’t often have a chance to see what he is working with,” Calli murmured as she eyed her ice, which moments ago she had considered absolutely delicious, but which now she was slowly losing her appetite for. She just wanted to have this over with, to get out of here and move on, keeping both parts of her life separate.

Until one would be lost to her forever.

“Tell us more about your gallery, Your Grace,” Xander said, a greedy flash in his eyes, while Arie sat back, allowing their brother to do the talking, although Calli was well aware he was just as interested.

“It’s simply a gallery of his favorite works,” Calli murmured, “a place for himself.”

“Any painters we might know?” Xander asked.

“A few,” Jonathan answered, but cleared his throat and said no more, his own intuition obviously picking up on the fact that this was not something he should be speaking about — at least, not with this family.

“Uncle has tons and tons of paintings on the wall,” Matthew added now, trying to be helpful, but Calli wished he would stop. “It’s creepy how all the people in them look down on you. I don’t even know how they all got up there, they are so high!”

“I can imagine,” Arie said with a grin for the boy.

“Calli showed you her paintings?” Xander asked now, apparently belatedly realizing what had first turned the conversation this way.

“I… stumbled in on one of her paintings,” Jonathan said, sending a look her way. “She’s quite talented.”

“That she is,” Xander said proudly.

“She tells me that she is only blood-related to one of you, is that correct?” Jonathan asked, looking at Xander, obviously realizing which one of them it was.

“Yes,” Arie said, the glint back in his eyes, “but we have been family for so long that it doesn’t really matter.”

“And just how did that come to be?” Jonathan asked, and Calli looked between him and Arie, wondering just why he would care so much about her background. She had told him everything he should need to know.

“Calli and Xander were on the streets. Alone.” Arie leaned forward again, his ice discarded beside him. “I provided them with a home. Purpose. Family. We built ourselves up from nothing.”

“Here in London?” Jonathan persisted, not cowed by the force of Arie’s words.

“Yes, here in London,” Arie said.

“Is that where you are from?”

Arie had always maintained just a touch of accent, while his Greek complexion always caused confusion for those who had not travelled much outside of England.

“No,” Arie said. “I am not.”

And it was obvious he would say no more.

“Well, this has been… enlightening,” Jonathan said, beginning to rise, Calli quickly following suit.

Arie was well-versed in the etiquette of the noble class, but he maintained his seated posture for a moment longer, as though to purposefully irk Jonathan.

“Thank you for the ices,” Xander said, before dipping into a bow in front of the children, who giggled at him. Xander had always had a way with the young ones. “My lord, my lady.” Belatedly he turned. “Your Grace. And Calli, I hope to see you again very soon, sister.”

“Of course,” she said.

“We shall be away for a couple of days,” Jonathan said, and Calli turned to him with some surprise. “My mother has just returned from Bath, and we will go to the country to visit her for the weekend while Parliament is in recess before we return to London.”

“Oh, dear,” Mary said, her face suddenly frozen in an unnamed fear, “not Grandmother.”

“She’s not that bad,” Jonathan said with a sigh, but as he ran a hand through his hair, Calli had the impression that he was in agreement with the children.

“Calli, before we go, might we talk to you for a moment— alone?” Arie asked, and Calli hesitated before Jonathan gave her a small nod.

They bid their final farewells to Jonathan and the children before they walked outside, down the street a way so that they would be out of earshot if Jonathan came outdoors.

“Seems like you’ve got yourself into a nice, comfortable family position with the duke and the children, eh?” Arie said, eyeing her, and Calli placed a hand over her chest in defense as she looked up at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m no fool,” Arie bit out. “There is something between you and the nob. If you’ve gotten closer to him to further our work, that is all well and good, but if you have feelings for him, Calli…”

“There is nothing between us,” she lied, hoping to convince Arie.

Arie roved his eyes over her face, assessing her.

“Good. Because you need to be thinking with your head. I’ve always taught you that.”

She nodded.

“But the duke obviously has some designs on you. Why else would he invite your family for ices?”

“I—” Her mind went blank. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

He and Xander exchanged a look.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Arie said, holding up a finger. “Make your excuses, but do not go with the duke and the children to the country. Remain in London. We will come and switch out the painting and you will be gone, along with the original, before he returns.”

Panic began to swirl within Calli’s stomach, before it began to claw its way up her throat. If she did what Arie said… she would never see Jonathan again.

“But what kind of excuse would I make?”

“Tell him that you are feeling ill, too ill for the trip. Then when he is gone, just leave a note saying that you had to return to your family or something of the like. Your name is not your name, so he will have no idea where to look for you — not that he is likely to do so.”

“Why — because I am so expendable?”

Arie looked at her with pity.

“You have many fine qualities, Calli. You are beautiful, you are intelligent, and you have obviously been good with his children. But there are more of you out there. He is a duke. It will not be hard to find someone to replace you.”

Calli had no idea whether he meant as his governess or in his heart, but somehow she had the feeling that it wouldn’t have mattered — Arie’s opinion would have been the same.

“I—” She felt sick, but she squared her shoulders as she looked up at them both. “I can’t do this.”

“You said that before,” Arie said, his mouth twisting into what she knew was supposed to be a smile but was, in fact, anything but, “and I told you what would happen if you didn’t go through with it. Do it my way, he never needs to know the truth about you. Force us to go your way, and I will end up with the painting while he will forever know your duplicity. Which do you prefer?”

“I’m your sister, Arie,” she pleaded, but that only served to harden his resolve.

“Yes. And as my sister, you should be loyal to me. Not a nob you only just met. We will see you in two days.”

Then they were gone, striding down the street, as Xander looked back at her with sympathy. All Calli could do was take a breath, turn around, and pray for a way out of this.