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

by St. Clair, Ellie

  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.

  Chapter 4

  If Calli didn’t have an ulterior motive for staying at this house, she most assuredly would have been gone by now. It was no wonder all the other nannies and governesses had quit. The problem was not, in her opinion, the children, but the man himself, who was too pretentious for words.

  She was still practically shaking in her fury when she relieved the maid who was watching the children during her short and pointless meeting with the duke.

  “Well?” she said, hands on her hips as she looked down at them, already sick of these four walls that closed them in. “What would the two of you like to do this afternoon?”

  “Go to the park?” Mary asked hopefully, to which Calli nodded.

  “Very well,” she said. “To the park we will go.”

  They looked at her expectantly, their faces full of hope and innocence, and Calli felt renewed heartbreak for them.

  “Let’s find our cloaks and gloves, then, shall we?”

  She stepped into her room and picked up her cloak, but before she could swirl it around her and place it over her shoulders, a frog jumped out and stared at her with a loud “ribbit,” before jumping away.

  Calli stared at it in shock, then turned to find two faces peering at her from the doorway, expressions filled with amusement, guilt, and, at the edge, a very small helping of fear.

  She lifted her eyebrows at them, looked at the frog, and then, she couldn’t help it.

  She started to laugh.

  The children stared at one another in amazement before turning their gazes toward her as though she had gone mad.

  “Ah, Miss Donahue?” Mary said hesitatingly, “why are you laughing?”

  “Why, at your joke,” she said, deciding the best way to handle this was to do the last thing they would expect. “It was meant to be funny, was it not?”

  “Well, yes,” Mary said, her brows furrowing. “But not to you.”

  “How was I supposed to react, then?”

  When Mary said nothing, Matthew jumped in. “You were supposed to scream and run away, and then go talk to Uncle and tell him that you are leaving.”

  Calli sobered and nodded her head thoughtfully. “I see. You do not like me, then? You wish for a new governess?”

  Now the children were speechless, and Calli quickly realized what the issue was.

  “Or were you hoping at some point that your uncle would grow tired of hiring governesses and spend more time with you himself?”

  They hung their heads and refused to look at her.

  Calli crouched down to their height to look them in the eye.

  “Your uncle is a busy man,” she said, frownin
g as she realized she was only echoing his own words to her, “but when he has the time, he would love to spend it with you.”

  “He never has the time,” Matthew said, kicking the toe of his shoe into the floor.

  “He will,” Calli said, determined to ensure that she was not making an empty promise. “Now, let’s take this frog outside where he belongs, shall we?”

  “Are we still going to the park, then?” Mary asked hopefully, and Calli considered the request for a moment before shaking her head.

  “We will go outside to the green, but you’ve lost the chance to go to the park today. Perhaps tomorrow.”

  They sighed but didn’t argue as they gathered their cloaks and trudged out the door.

  Calli stooped and picked up the frog, capturing it between her palms as she followed them down the stairs.

  Her gaze was on her hands as the frog jumped around within them, rapidly trying to free himself, when they stopped on the first floor landing.

  “Let’s take the shortest way out,” Calli decided, knowing that would be the front door. “Then you can direct me to the closest pond.”

  “Very well, Miss—” Matthew began, but then was cut off, and Calli furrowed her brow as she looked up to see just what could have caught his attention.

  She swallowed hard when she found herself staring into the white linen shirt that was stretching over a wide torso, the muscles nearly visible from where she stood.

  “Miss Donahue,” his voice, that silky baritone that seemed reserved for her and her alone, did not have the short clipped words that he used when speaking to everyone else. When he said her name, it was almost like a caress.

  He was clad in shirt, cravat, and waistcoat, having divested himself of his jacket at some point in the day.

  “Your Grace,” she practically squeaked.

  “Whatever do you have there?”

  “Nothing, Your Grace,” she said, quickly shaking her head as she stepped around him. “Just something the children and I are placing outside, is all.”

  “I see,” he said, staring after her, and she could practically feel his eyes boring into her back.

  The children quickly followed her, obviously, despite their wish that she tell their uncle she was quitting, not wanting her to share the full details of their practical joke.

  “This way, Miss Donahue,” Matthew said, pulling open the door, and she rushed outside, allowing the door to shut behind her.

  Except it didn’t. It was caught in a firm hand, and she realized belatedly that the duke had followed them out.

  “Your Grace?” she asked, turning to look at him, wondering just what he was doing.

  “Your secrets have intrigued me, Miss Donahue,” he said wryly.

  Calli swallowed hard at the thought of what she was truly keeping from him.

  “Please, do lead on.”

  She wished she could tell him to turn around and re-enter the house, but she was in no position to tell him to do anything at all, let alone anything of the sort.

  Instead, they made a small, strange party as they trudged across the lawn to the small pond that Calli had seen from her bedroom window.

  Both Calli and the children couldn’t help sneaking looks back at the broody, scowling duke who seemed to belong anywhere else on this massive London home but the green in front of it.

  The frog croaked and the children attempted to keep in their laughter, while even Calli let out an unladylike snort in an attempt to hold back her mirth.

  “Are you all right, Miss Donahue?” the duke asked, and she nodded. “Fine,” she said, choking back the laughter that threatened to remain unchecked.

  “Where are we going?” he asked from behind them, and Calli managed, “the pond,” in as ordinary of voice as she could accomplish, though she didn’t look back for his reaction.

  Finally, they arrived, and Calli was dismayed to find the pond was not much of a pond at all, but primarily a form of ornamentation on the large green lawn. Water trickled from a stone font above and a few small hedges surrounded the one side, but there was little place for the frog to call home.

  “Is this where he belongs?” Calli whispered to children, wondering how they had ever gotten their hands on such a thing.

  “No,” Mary whispered back, shaking her head. “He was from the kitchen.”

  Calli swallowed hard at that, reminding herself to always ask before sampling anything on her plate.

  “Well, perhaps he can still be happy here,” she said with a shrug as she knelt and released her passenger. He gave one more throaty gurgle before splashing merrily into the water, happy to be free of the trap of her hands and what would have most assuredly been his place on the dinner table.

  “Was that a frog?” the duke asked, incredulity in his voice from behind them, and Calli forced herself to turn and face him with chin held high.

  “It was, Your Grace.”

  “And just why, Miss Donahue, were you carrying a frog through my house and across my lawn?”

  “Well,” she began as diplomatically as she could, even as she felt Mary’s small hand touch the back of her leg through her dress in a silent plea for her to keep the secret. Which, Calli supposed, was fair, for she was keeping enough lofty secrets of her own from the duke. “The frog somehow found his way into my cloak. I decided I’d best return him to a place where he could be most comfortable.”

  “I see,” said the duke, missing nothing, his eyes roaming from his niece to his nephew. “And no one has any idea how it got there?”

  “No, Your Grace,” Calli lied.

  “Miss Donahue,” he said, his voice laced with warning, but Calli forced herself to stand her ground and not back up an inch, “I do not like it when people lie to me. Most especially my employees.”

  “I understand, Your Grace.”

  “See that you do,” he said, and Calli knew that he meant every menacing tone within his words. “Now, I think I have had enough exploring outdoors today. Good day to all of you.”

  “Good day, Uncle,” the children said in unison.

  He began his long, purposeful stride back across the green toward the house. As soon as he was out of earshot, the three of them burst into laughter.

  * * *

  Jonathan couldn’t have said what had compelled him to follow Miss Donahue and the children. There was something about that impish grin on her face that told him she was up to no good — even though he would usually suspect it was the children who were into some kind of mischief or another. When he had realized she was hiding something, his curiosity had become tinged with suspicion. He didn’t like when people hid things from him — even if it was something as innocent and yet altogether surprising as a frog.

  A frog.

  He snorted now even to think of it. It wasn’t the first time such a creature had found its way into the upper floors of his house. Of course, the last governess who had discovered one upon her bed sheets had gone screeching through the hallways until the servants had to inform him of the ruckus. Had she not quit on the spot, he would have fired her anyway.

  He did not condone the children’s actions, but it was the duty of the governess to discipline the children, not to behave like one of them.

  Miss Donahue, at least, had passed that test.

  She still struck him as all wrong for a governess. When his friend, Collins, had recommended the woman, he certainty didn’t recall him mentioning anything about how… fetching Miss Donahue was.

  But then, Collins had been married for years, and not only that, was in love with his wife, so maybe he hadn’t noticed.

  Jonathan strode to the window of his study, unable to keep himself from looking out at the green beyond, watching Miss Donahue and the children run about playing some game. He would prefer that they were a little less boisterous, but he had already involved himself enough in the children’s affairs for one day. Besides, who was he to talk, having already traipsed around the green in his shirtsleeves.

  His ma
n-of-business knocked on the door, and Jonathan waved him in before retaking his seat behind his desk.

  He had much more important things to attend to.

  Chapter 5

  When the children were finally asleep, Calli grasped her sketchpad and pencil in hand. Who would have thought that two six-year-olds could so stubbornly hold off bedtime? She had told them story after story which had been recounted to her by her eldest brother, tales he had brought with him from his own childhood in Greece long ago.

  Unfortunately, these two children had been far too intrigued by stories of Artemis and Apollo, and Calli had nearly fallen asleep before they did. She was exhausted after a full day with them, and while she stared longingly at her bed, it would be some time before she could wrap herself in its comforts.

  She had work to do.

  Unfortunately, most of that work was going to require her to be sneaking around the house. She could only hope that the master was either abed or out somewhere. Calli herself wasn’t one to typically take to bed early, but then, she was also not used to chasing after children all day. She could only hope that the duke was like most of the nobility and spent his evenings out carousing or gambling or drinking or whatever it was men like he did.

  Although the thought of him taking part in any activity that would require a crack in his otherwise stern and scowling demeanor caused her lips to curl up in a smile. He wasn’t exactly one who evoked images of passionate trysts or midnight rendezvous. Although sometimes, when she caught him looking at her in a certain way…

  She placed her ear now against the door of his study, hoping that the lack of light visible from underneath the door meant that it was currently unoccupied. Why did this painting have to be in the one room that she most assuredly should not find herself in?

  She clutched the doorknob and ever so slowly turned it, poking her head in to find with relief that she was the only one present. She crept in, wishing that she had thought to wrap a shawl around her shoulders, not anticipating how cold the room would be with only embers in the hearth instead of a blazing fire.