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

Chapter 3

Jonathan woke the next day in the foulest of moods.

He kept his eyes closed even as his valet opened the curtains, trying to remember what had caused his ire.

There was the party, which, while many would have called it a success, his mother would consider a failure for he had not danced — not even once. None of the women were enticing enough, nor promising enough to attract his attention, and he certainly had no wish to lead on any woman who might be holding out hope to be his bride.

And then—oh yes, and then.

There had been one woman whom he had considered with more than a passing glance. A woman with red, rosy lips that stretched into an all-too-enticing smile. One certainly too enticing for a governess. A woman with a beauty mark that drew attention to the most peculiar violet-blue eyes which widened in an innocence that his niece and nephew were going to take advantage of in no time at all. A woman whose form was too curvy in all the right places, with hips that invited him to cup, breasts that were far too pert and welcoming, and a waist he wanted to span with his hands.

The governess. The woman who would now be living in the same house as him, tempting him, taunting him, when she was supposed to be keeping the children from destroying his life.

Once she had stood from his desk and he had gotten a good look at her, he had been tempted to tell her to turn around and leave. He knew, however, that it might be difficult to find another governess, and he was in a rather tight spot already. But he had enough to worry about without a siren under his roof, most especially a siren who didn’t seem to understand the proper protocols in the house of a duke.

Such as not sitting in his chair. Not entering his study without permission. And not suggesting that he watch the children as though he was a nursemaid himself.

The memory of her cheeks turning a most endearing shade of red did summon forth the ghost of a smile, however, and that was when his valet, Oxford, greeted him.

“Tea, Your Grace?”

“Very well,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Eleven o’clock, Your Grace.”

Two hours, then, until his meeting with the governess. He should have Mrs. Blonsky do it. But then, Mrs. Blonsky had made it clear she wanted as little to do with the children as possible. He sighed and squared his shoulders. Best to do this himself.

* * *

Calli’s brotherhad prepared her for many circumstances that might arise from her foray within the nobility. He had not, however, foreseen that she just might become a governess.

Which meant that she had no idea just what, exactly, she was supposed to do with these two children.

Breakfast took up the first hour — which, they told her, they never ate with their uncle.

Afterward, they sat around the small round table in the corner of the nursery with its rather blank walls that Calli felt required much more adornment, looking at one another with open curiosity.

“How often do you see him?” Calli asked, trying not to appear overly curious, as she wondered just what the relationship was between these children and their standoffish uncle. He didn’t seem particularly interested in them.

Matthew shrugged. “Sometimes for dinner.”

“But not often,” Mary added. “He doesn’t like us much.”

“What are you talking about?” Calli exclaimed. “Of course he likes you!”

Mary snorted, her expression advanced beyond her years. “You don’t know him. He doesn’t like children, and he wishes he’d had nothing to do with us. He’s still mad at Mother for leaving us.”

“Oh, I’m sure she had no choice,” Calli said, her heart opening to these children, knowing that their mother must have passed in order for them to have been left alone.

“She did,” Mary said with a curt nod of her head, her blond hair dancing around her chin as she did so. “She ran off to America. Her new husband didn’t want us, so she left us behind.”

Calli stared at them, speechless.

“No…”

“Yes,” Matthew said with such emphasis that Calli realized how deep the children’s scars must be right now. “But it’s fine. We have each other. Right, Mary?”

“Right,” she said with a small smile, and if Calli’s heart wasn’t already aching for these children, it began bleeding anew. They may not feel wanted, but whatever time she was going to be spending here, she would show them that they were worth something, that she enjoyed their company.

As long as they never found out her true reason for being here.

“What would you like to do today?” she asked, perhaps overly brightly.

“We don’t have to do any schooling?” Mary asked, her eyes widening hopefully.

“Not today,” Calli said, shaking her head. She would have to figure out that aspect of her job here — sometime between actually caring for these children and painting. “Let’s do something fun.”

“Go to the park?” Matthew asked, and Calli nodded.

“A fine idea, for later in the day after I meet with your uncle.”

“Do you think Uncle would come with?” Mary asked in a small voice, her gaze on the table, and Calli shrugged.

“Perhaps,” she said, although she had a good idea just what the duke would say to the suggestion. “I shall ask him. I cannot make any promises, though. Even if he would like to come, there is a good chance he might be busy.”

“He’s always busy,” Matthew said, with forced bravado in his voice.

“Your uncle is an important man,” Calli said carefully. “Now, come. We have a couple of hours until I must meet with your uncle. Until then, we shall play a game.”

“What kind of game?”

“What kind do you like?”

“Charades?”

“Very well,” she said with a smile. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

“Enter,”Jonathan called at the light knock on the door.

Miss Donahue stepped into his study at his call, but he didn’t look up as he kept his eyes on the ledger before him. He was reviewing his stock in the shipping company in which he had recently invested. Many men of his station refused to sully their hands or their money in trade, but Jonathan didn’t see why he shouldn’t invest his funds to grow them further. It would only help the entirety of the estate.

He remained so focused in part because he didn’t want to rest his eyes upon this new governess until she was sitting down, so he wasn’t tempted once more by the luscious curves he knew she possessed. Hopefully today she was wearing something that did much more to hide what was beneath.

Sensing her presence hovering next to his desk — a scent of honeysuckle suddenly invading and nearly overwhelming him — he found he had no choice but to look up.

“Please sit.”

She did as he bid, and he tried to keep himself from too openly appraising her, as difficult as it may be.

Her hair today was much looser, tendrils of curls escaping the chignon at the back of her head to wave around her face. He guessed that she had help preparing herself yesterday, and struggled now to tame what looked to be a wild mane. He wondered if it was any sort of reflection on her own personality. Would she be a difficult woman to employ?

The thought of wild abandon brought altogether wicked thoughts to his mind, which he pushed away as quickly as he could. That was not why this woman was here.

Jonathan was not a rake of any sort, although he was not a saint either. Why this woman caused such notions to fill his head, he had no idea.

Today she wore a dress of navy blue, as demure as the gown she’d worn yesterday, yet somehow it highlighted the color of her eyes and accented her cheekbones.

“You wished to speak to me?” she said, her smooth, rich voice filling the silence, and Jonathan cursed himself for losing control. The woman must have bewitched him last night for him to be acting such a way.

“Yes,” he said with a nod, finding a sheet of paper on the corner of his orderly desk. “Here you will find your salary for each week. I am sure it will meet with your approval. You have every Sunday evening off to do as you please. The children are expected to learn reading, writing, arithmetic, history, geography, and general etiquette. You will teach them accordingly. They are to remain in the second story unless invited to the ground floor. If you are required elsewhere, Mrs. Blonsky can look after them for brief moments of time. Do you have any questions?”

Expecting none, he returned to his ledgers, only to hear her clear her throat expectantly.

“Yes?” He raised his eyes to her once more, making it apparent that he had other things to do than continue with this meeting.

“Where do the children dine?”

“Primarily in the nursery.”

“What if they would like to dine with you?”

“I don’t often dine with the children.”

“Yes,” she persisted, “but what if they would like to?”

“I will request their presence when necessary,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Very well,” she said, with a sigh that was obviously supposed to portray her resignation. “Am I permitted to take them on outings?”

“Of course,” he said, “as long as it is somewhere respectable and a groom and a footman accompany you.”

“What of their parents?” she asked, catching him off guard.

“What of them?”

“You never told me the situation of how the children came to be here. I think it is important if I am to understand how to teach them.”

“You teach them subjects, Miss Donahue, not about their family.”

“Yes, but—”

“Their father died when they were but a year old in a shooting accident. Their mother left them last year.”

“So it is true, then,” she murmured, and when he met her gaze he was shocked to find it full of such sadness.

“You already knew the story?” he asked, his ire growing at the fact she was making him talk about such things.

“They told me, but I couldn’t believe such a thing,” she said. “A mother not wanting her children?”

“I suppose you were blessed with a doting mother,” he said, his voice laced with smoky tension that was supposed to warn her off.

She either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“No, actually, my mother died when I was young,” she said. “I would have given anything for more time with her.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said awkwardly, unsure of just how to respond to that. “I am most sorry for your loss.”

She waved a hand in the air, and Jonathan couldn’t help but notice how much her gestures spoke for her. “It was a long time ago,” she said. “Besides, my brother and I were taken in by another… family, and I am as close to them as I could ever imagine being to my true family.”

“Very good,” he said curtly. “Well, if we are done here—”

“I actually have one more question.”

He didn’t bother to attempt to hide his annoyance any longer. “Yes, Miss Donahue?”

The sooner this woman and her generous curves, captivating eyes, and plump lips that were practically begging to be kissed if only so she would stop talking, left his study, the better off he would be.

“The children have requested to spend some time with you. What should I tell them?”

He stared at her incredulously. “You are telling me that the first day you begin working for me, they are already bored of your company?”

She flushed in a most arousing manner.

“I don’t believe they are sick of my company, Your Grace, but they would like to get to know their uncle. I don’t believe this is the first they have brought up the matter, but perhaps no governess before me has brought forward their request.”

Not bloody likely. Most governesses seemed to know their place and understood that it was their job to keep the children entertained and not begging for their uncle — a duke with far more important things to keep him busy — to spend time with them.

“If I ever have a moment, Miss Donahue, I will be sure to come check on them as well as on your performance,” best to keep her on her toes, “however, you must understand that I am a very busy man and I do not have time to be running around the nursery.”

Properly chastised, she dropped her hands to her lap, although he didn’t miss the flash in her eyes as she did so, and he wondered whether she was fighting back a retort. He didn’t care what she thought, but he did hope she understood when to keep those thoughts to herself.

“Understood, Your Grace.”

“Good,” he said, standing now so that she had no choice but to do the same. “I have a prior engagement. You may go.”

She nodded and walked to the door, and Jonathan had to swallow a groan at the way her hips swayed back and forth with each step. She surely couldn’t be doing this on purpose just to torture him — could she?

Grateful she was actually leaving, he let out the breath he had been holding, but found that he was to be disappointed.

“Your Grace?” she called back over her shoulder after cracking open the door, and he couldn’t help but notice the long strands of black curls that were now falling from the pins at the back of her head.

“Yes, Miss Donahue?” he said tersely.

“Would you like me to meet with you to provide you with updates on the children’s progress?”

“No. Just don’t quit, and all else will be fine,” he muttered, knowing that her suggestion was a good one, but unable to manage the thought of spending another moment alone in her presence.

“Very well, Your Grace,” she said, turning back around. “I won’t.”

With that, the door clicked shut behind her, and she was finally, blessedly, gone.