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

Chapter 22

“Idon’t understand, Uncle, why isn’t Miss Donahue with us?

“She wasn’t feeling well.”

Jonathan was, perhaps, prolonging the inevitable, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell the children that they might have to soon say goodbye to their governess forever.

Especially when they seemed to love her so much.

Her, after so many other governesses had fallen short.

“She seemed quite well to me,” Matthew said, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared up at Jonathan with contempt he did not quite understand. “Did you say something mean to her?”

“Pardon me?” Jonathan said, lifting a brow in an expression he hoped would command more respect from his nephew.

“She looked so sad when we saw her this morning. Mary and I thought maybe you said something to make her unhappy.”

Jonathan drew in a breath, attempting to find patience. “I told you that she wasn’t feeling well. That must have been it.”

“Do you love her?”

Jonathan started from his seat across from the children in the carriage. “Do I what?”

Mary tilted her head to the side in a look of understanding far beyond her years. “I can tell that you love her. It’s fine to say that you do.”

Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t love her.”

But… he just might. He recalled her words that she was falling for him. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, not even to himself, but he was beginning to feel the same way about her. But he couldn’t. Not when he didn’t know who she truly was.

“Children…” he said, wiping a hand across his brow, unsure of just how to make them understand. “Miss Donahue… she’s not who I thought she was.”

“What do you mean?” Matthew asked.

“She’s not actually a governess.”

That would have to be enough to mollify them.

Mary furrowed her brow. “You mean she is supposed to have a different job?”

“Something like that. She was just pretending.”

“But why?”

But why couldn’t they just accept what he said as fact? Everyone else in his life did.

“She lied because she wanted the job.”

Mary and Matthew looked at one another as they seemed to ponder what he said. Mary spoke first, apparently on behalf of the two of them.

“But she is still our governess, and she is a good governess. So why can’t she stay anyway? It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t a governess before. She is now.”

Jonathan opened his mouth and took a breath to respond — until he realized that Mary, actually, had something of a point.

“It’s just that she is not who she said she was,” he repeated, trying not to let his frustration show. “Who I thought she was.”

“But she is still the same person,” Mary insisted. “She wasn’t acting — was she?”

No. No, she wasn’t.

She was still Calli. The Calli that he had gotten to know. The Calli who had broken through all of his barriers. The Calli that he wanted in his life.

Perhaps… perhaps he had been a bit harsh with her.

“You’re right,” he said, looking at Mary wide-eyed, and the child beamed at him. It was likely the first time he had ever said such a thing to her.

“We best go back and get her,” Matthew said, to which Jonathan slowly nodded as hope filled him anew. He still didn’t completely trust her… but did he have to say goodbye forever? Maybe she deserved one last chance.

He rapped on the roof of the carriage before sticking his head out the window.

“Johnson — turn around! We’ve forgotten something.”

* * *

Calli’s brotherscame much sooner than she had been expecting.

“Miss Donahue?” Calli started when the housekeeper found her in Jonathan’s study — fortunately, finished putting her plan into action, although she could feel the perspiration sliding down her back from her exertions. It was not exactly a job for one woman, but she had mustered every ounce of strength she possessed in order to carry it out.

It had been worth it.

She had sat down on the chair in front of Jonathan’s desk, taking a minute to examine her work.

Mrs. Blonsky seemed slightly perturbed to find her in the study, which was reasonable.

“I was leaving a note for His Grace,” Calli explained, motioning to the desk in front of her where there was, fortunately, a neat pile of paper in the middle of the desk. “I might… I might not be here when he returns.”

“I see,” Mrs. Blonsky said, her smile as present as always, although if Calli wasn’t mistaken, she could sense that Mrs. Blonsky might know a bit more than she was letting on. “Very well. You have visitors. I have placed them in the back parlor.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Blonsky,” Calli said, her heart fluttering as she eyed the rolled piece of canvas in the corner. She could only hope that this would work. Arie and Xander were not easy to fool.

And they would be here now.

Mrs. Blonsky left her to find her own way, which Calli was glad for. She stepped into the parlor to find her two brothers leaning against pieces of furniture.

“You’re early,” she said by way of greeting, and Arie grinned while Xander still looked somewhat worried.

“Does it matter?” Arie said airily. “We were watching the house. Your duke is gone.”

“Yes, he is,” Calli said, holding herself up high.

“Where is your bag?”

“Packed, in my room.”

“Best go get it. We’ll want to leave quickly,” Arie said. “And your painting?”

“In the study. Next to the original,” she said, her heart beating rapidly at the thought.

“Why don’t you lead the way?” Arie said. “Then you can go fetch your things.”

“There are a fair number of staff still in the house,” Calli said, rubbing her forehead, trying to think of any other way to delay them. “I don’t understand why you didn’t wait until night, as we agreed upon.”

When it would also be darker and harder to see.

“Xander has been watching the house and said that with the duke gone, most of the servants have gone out or are in their living quarters,” Arie said. “I figured, why not get a head start?”

“Arie, please, just try to understand where I am coming from in no longer wanting this to happen,” she said, desperate to try again. “Can we just leave it?”

He stared at her, unblinking, and Calli wondered for a moment whether her statue of a brother even had a heart.

“I told you the terms, Calli. So — do you want to do this efficiently in a way that he will never know, or would you like him to know all of your betrayal? Your choice.”

“Fine,” Calli said, trying to release her fists as her stomach turned. “But this must be quick. I shall let you into the study, and then shut the door behind you. As long as no one sees you go in, no one should be the wiser. Just pray a maid doesn’t come in to dust while you’re there.”

Xander gave her a jaunty salute which even Arie rolled his eyes at, before Calli led them slowly down the hall, as though they were breaking into the house and not invited to be here.

Although she didn’t think Jonathan would ever invite her brothers into his home, which meant that they were trespassing as much as anyone could ever expect.

She let them into the study, pointed out the painting, and was just about to leave when Xander placed a hand on her arm.

“Calli,” he said in a low voice, likely so Arie, across the room, wouldn’t hear, “are you all right?”

“Fine,” she said, forcing a smile that she knew would be strained and that Xander would see right through. But now wasn’t the time to discuss her feelings. “I’ll be back.”

She slipped out of the room and down the hall, up the stairs and into her small room. She took one final look around the bedroom and the nursery, her heart breaking with the sadness of never seeing the children nor the house again. She couldn’t even think of Jonathan.

She crossed to the schoolroom area of the nursery, taking a slip of paper and a piece of charcoal before dashing off a quick note to Matthew and Mary. Then she crossed the room, quickly unpacked her paint supplies from her bag, and left them out for them. She hoped they would be able to remember her with some fondness.

Calli picked up her bag and hurried down the stairs. She was just about to open the study door when a commotion arose from the front of the house.

“Miss Donahue? Miss Donahue, where are you?”

“Matthew? Mary?” She dropped her bag, her heart hammering in her chest as her joy in seeing them, even for this one last time, fought with her distress as to why they could be here and how she could get her brothers out of the house without anyone else the wiser.

She had to get everyone away from the study.

Calli hurried down the hall to the front foyer, coming to a stop when the children ran toward her, their arms outstretched.

“Miss Donahue! We came back for you!”

She didn’t say anything in response — she couldn’t, not when her throat was clogged with unshed tears. Finally she looked up from the children, who had their arms wrapped around her, to Jonathan, who stood there, unmoving, his cloak swirled around him imposingly as he stared down at them.

“Your Grace?” she said softly.

He cleared his throat.

“The children are correct. We have returned for you. Perhaps I was too… premature in my conclusions.”

“Oh, Jon—Your Grace, I… I don’t know what to say.”

Her stomach knotted as she thought about what was happening behind her in the house.

Was there a way that she could, potentially, get her brothers out and still go with Jonathan? Could she find a way forward with the man she loved?

For she did. She loved him, despite his obstinance and his distrust and, at times, hardness of heart. She couldn’t help herself.

“Just say yes to coming with us, and we can figure out the rest from there.”

She stood, nodding, beginning to back out of the foyer.

“I will. Thank you. I just must… go and fetch my things.”

She managed a smile before scurrying down the hall, the moment she was around the corner breaking into a run.

Fortunately, there weren’t any servants about, and when Calli skidded to a halt in front of the study door, it was just opening.

She wrenched it open, pushing back Xander and Arie, who swore as they stepped back.

She noted the canvas in their hands, looking back and forth from the painting on the wall to the two of them.

“Is it done?” she hissed, and they nodded, although Xander was looking at her somewhat strangely. She ignored him, focused on Arie, for he was always the one to worry about.

“We have a problem,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Jonathan is home.”

She didn’t even care that she had said his given name. Let them think what they wanted. She just needed them gone.

“They’ve asked me to go with them to Kent, and I’m going to go,” she said resolutely. “I told them I was going to get my bag. Hide in here until you don’t hear anything anymore. I’ll try to ensure we leave within fifteen minutes. Then you’ll have to sneak out on your own — but I’m sure you’re both more than adept at doing so.”

Xander smirked while Arie looked at her thoughtfully.

“You should come home with us.”

“I’ve made up my mind, Arie,” she said, her voice low. “I will come visit upon our return. We shan’t be long.”

She knew she was likely making the wrong decision. To extend her time with Jonathan was only going to prolong her heartbreak, for there was no way there would ever be room for her in his life as anything more than what she currently was.

But she would take what she could.

She took a deep breath, smoothed her skirts, and opened the door.

Only to come face to face with Jonathan.