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

Chapter 9

Calli stilled herself mid-yawn when she sensed a presence in the room. For she knew without turning around exactly who it would be.

“Uncle!” Mary exclaimed, and Callie sighed before standing.

“Children,” he greeted them perfunctorily before turning to Calli. “Miss Donahue. Tired, are we?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she said, even though she was perfectly longing to return to her bed and settle in for another few hours. Damn Arie and his late-night meetings. “What brings you here to the nursery, Your Grace?”

“Schoolroom,” Matthew noted from the table in front of her.

She nodded. “Apologies, Matthew. The schoolroom.”

“I believe I am allowed to go wherever I please in my own home, am I not?” he asked, and Calli’s ears burned. It seemed she was forever saying exactly what she shouldn’t. Would she ever learn proper manners before it was time to leave?

“I only meant… I was wondering if we could help you with anything.”

“At ease, Miss Donahue. I was only teasing.”

Calli’s eyes widened as she stared at him. The Duke of Hargreave… teasing? She squinted as she studied him. Could that possibly be the hint of a smile dancing around his lips?

“As it is, I have some news for all of you. We are going to be travelling to the Kent estate for a short time.”

Calli’s heart began to beat loudly in her ears. To Kent? But what about her painting? How easy would it be to pack the canvas and her supplies and transport them there? How would her brother keep watch on her? This was not part of the plan. Not at all.

But it wasn’t as though she was exactly in a place to voice those reservations.

“Is it not currently the Season, Your Grace?”

“It is, but we are coming close to the end and I’m sure Parliament will be fine without me for a short time. Let someone else worry about everything for a few days. I need to look at some adjoining land.”

“The children and I could remain in London,” Calli offered, her mind already speeding ahead, considering the ample amount of time she would have to sit and paint in the study, right in front of the original, without fear of being caught. Her memory was exemplary, that was for certain, and she had already managed a small reproduction to work from, but there would be no greater opportunity than painting with the work right in front of her.

“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?”

“The 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.