Heaven Here On Earth

by Carole Mortimer

  CHAPTER SIX

  OVER the next few days Ryan kept a careful watch over Ragtag, spending little time at the Hall so that she could keep an eye on the dog. She heard no more about the sheep-worrying, whether it was continuing or if they had caught the culprit, although with the close watch she was keeping on Ragtag, she had a feeling that the latter wouldn’t happen.

  If it was Ragtag she couldn’t believe he was harming the sheep in a vindictive way, she felt sure it was just a game to him. The trouble was, it had turned into a deadly game.

  Sunday couldn’t come round fast enough for her, and her face lit up excitedly when she saw Mark’s red sports car draw up outside the cottage. She ran out to meet him as he climbed out of the low car, launching herself into his arms and hugging him tightly.

  ‘Hey!’ He held her away from him, looking down at her with a smile. ‘What would Diana say?’

  She put her arm through his as they walked into the cottage. ‘Has she agreed to marry you? Tea?’ she offered.

  ‘Thanks.’ He leant back against the kitchen unit. ‘And no, she hasn’t agreed yet, but I think this three or four days away could be the deciding factor.’

  ‘Absence making the heart grow fonder?’ teased Ryan.

  ‘Something like that,’ Mark nodded. ‘You certainly seem to have missed me?’ he quirked one dark brow.

  She avoided his gaze, clattering cups noisily on to the saucers. ‘Don’t be deceived by the welcome,’ she said lightly. ‘I would have greeted anyone like that, it’s been a bit lonely here after living in London.’

  ‘Has the family been rough on you?’ he asked softly, not deceived for a moment.

  ‘No,’ she answered truthfully. ‘Mandy and I have become quite good friends, and I rarely see Grant.’ Which was also true: she hadn’t seen him at all the last three days, although she had seen his Land Rover a couple of times in the distance.

  ‘So he hasn’t been regaling you with more tales of my lurid past?’ Mark took a biscuit out of the tin she held out to him.

  Ryan carried the tray through to the living-room. ‘No, he hasn’t. But I hope it is your past?’ She sat down.

  ‘Very definitely.’ Mark hung back as Ragtag looked up from his place on the hearthrug, growling softly. ‘So this is the dog you’ve acquired. Not very friendly, is he?’ He sat down tentatively.

  ‘Actually he is,’ she laughed. ‘It’s just because you’re a stranger, he’ll get used to you.’

  ‘Ah, but will I get used to him?’ Mark continued to watch the dog warily.

  Ryan smiled. ‘Probably. Now tell me all the news from London. How’s Diana? Are Rod and Sally still dating? Is—’

  ‘Here’s a letter from Diana.’ He took it out of the breast pocket of his shirt. ‘I’m sure she’ll have answered all your questions. It took her a whole evening to write it!’

  ‘Thanks.’ She put the letter aside to read later, not realising how much she had missed the social whirl in London. Here she had too much time to think, to dream, and some of her dreams about Grant had been pure fantasy. He had kissed her a few times, was attracted to her, but he didn’t even like her.

  ‘So how do you like the country?’ Mark interrupted her thoughts.

  ‘Very much,’ she surprised herself by saying. ‘It has a beauty all its own.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t say no to a night out?’

  ‘I would,’ she nodded, knowing she couldn’t leave Ragtag on his own for long at a time, not in the circumstances.

  ‘Not even dinner?’ Mark coaxed.

  ‘Well…’

  ‘Join us up at the Hall tonight,’ he suggested eagerly.

  It wasn’t exactly what she had had in mind when she hesitated, envisaging a nice quiet restaurant somewhere, with soft lights and romantic music. ‘I don’t think so,’ she shook her head.

  ‘Oh, go on,’ he coaxed. ‘I need all the moral support I can get. Grant’s sure to start asking questions, and it would look better if you were with me. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help,’ he added seriously. ‘As soon as I mentioned Diana to Grant I knew I’d made a mistake, that he would start on his “You’re too young to know your own mind” campaign,’ he grimaced.

  ‘Perhaps you are,’ Ryan put in softly.

  ‘Of course I’m not,’ he sighed. ‘Grant was going to get married at my age.’

  ‘To Rebecca.’

  ‘Yes,’ his eyes widened. ‘How did you know?’

  Ryan shrugged. ‘Mandy mentioned it.’

  ‘You two must be friends! I told you you would like her once you got to know her.’

  ‘Yes,’ she smiled.

  He nodded. ‘Well, Grant was going to marry at twenty-four—the fact that he’s never found anyone to measure up to Rebecca is no one’s fault but his own. The older he’s got the fussier he’s got. I’d hate to think

  ***

  Valerie is going to get him through sheer desperation on his part.’

  ‘He doesn’t appear desperate,’ Ryan derided, remembering the ease with which he had made love to her.

  ‘No,’ Mark laughed. ‘Still think he’s handsome?’

  She nodded. ‘And arrogant, and autocratic, and cruel—’

  ‘Cruel?’ Mark echoed with a frown. ‘I’ve never known Grant to be cruel in his life.’

  She blushed. ‘Maybe—maybe as a woman I see him differently from how you do.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he acknowledged softly, speculatively. ‘Please join us for dinner tonight. After all, it would look odd if you didn’t on my first night home.’

  ‘All right,’ Ryan sighed. ‘But just dinner and then home.’

  ‘Deal!’ Mark stood up. ‘I’ll call for you at seven-thirty.’ He grimaced. ‘I suppose I’d better go and show my face at the Hall now.’

  Her eyes widened as she followed him out to the car. ‘You mean you haven’t been home yet?’

  He slid in behind the wheel, dark and bronzed as he grinned up at her. ‘It’s only right I should call on my girl-friend first.’

  ‘Mark—’

  ‘Mm?’ he looked up at her.

  ‘Nothing,’ she shook her head. ‘I’ll see you later,’ and she stepped back.

  Mark left with a wave of his hand, accelerating down the driveway so fast he left a trail of dust.

  Ryan turned and went slowly back into the house, absently assuring Ragtag that all was well again. But was it? She had agreed to go up to the Hall tonight, possibly to spend several hours in Grant’s company, and with Mark’s astuteness that probably wasn’t a good idea. Mark might give the impression of not having a care in the world, but he was after all an artist, with a true artist’s ability to read emotion in others—he had more than proved that by his knowledge of the hidden Diana. If he should even guess at her feelings for Grant…!

  She was ready and waiting when Mark called for her at seven-thirty, ignoring his raised eyebrows at the way her purple dress clung to her, outlining every curve of her slender body. Instead she made much of his own appearance, complimenting him on the dark dinner suit he wore with a snowy white shirt and black velvet bow-tie.

  ‘I have to look the part,’ he grinned. ‘Valerie expects it.’

  ‘Valerie?’ she echoed in dismay, feeling very cramped in the low sports car, with the open roof blowing her hair loosely about her shoulders.

  Mark grimaced. ‘She’s going to be there tonight, with Grant. That goes without saying! I expect to hear the sound of wedding bells very soon—and I don’t mean my own!’

  She had been hoping that Grant and Valerie wouldn’t be at the Hall tonight, but as it was Mark’s first day back it was understandable that they were.

  After three days of not seeing Grant her heart gave a sickening lurch as soon as she walked into the drawing-room, her hungry gaze fixed on the broadness of his shoulders beneath an emerald-coloured velvet jacket, the lean length of his legs beneath fitted black trousers, his face a coolly polite mask as he enquired what she would like to drink befor
e dinner. Her request for a sherry was made huskily, and her fingers dug into Mark’s arm.

  ‘Ouch!’ he frowned down at her, misunderstanding her tension. ‘Relax,’ he encouraged softly. ‘They aren’t going to eat you.’

  His casual reassurance brought back with startling clarity the words Grant had murmured so passionately against her burning flesh, only he hadn’t wanted to eat her but devour her!

  Mark saw her turn pale, and suddenly stood in front of her, shielding her from the others in the room. ‘This isn’t like you, Ryan,’ he frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing,’ her head went back proudly. ‘Nothing at all,’ she said more strongly. ‘Grant has my sherry ready.’ She walked over to him confidently, determined not to let him see how he unnerved her. She took the slender glass from him, carefully making sure she made no contact with his fingers, aware of his brooding glance on her, but refusing to even look at him.

  She couldn’t keep reliving those memories of being in Grant’s arms, she had to put it from her mind. Mark was right, this wasn’t like her at all, and she couldn’t let Grant Montgomery ruin the rest of her life. Their lovemaking had meant nothing to him, in fact she had seen him kissing Valerie Chatham even more passionately after that first evening, and he was still seeing the other woman—still making love to her? Probably. Which was all the more reason for her to behave as if he meant nothing to her.

  ‘Where have you been the last few days?’ Grant spoke suddenly at her side.

  She looked at him coolly, none of her inner turmoil reflected in her deep blue eyes. ‘Ragtag and I have been on some long walks,’ she shrugged.

  ‘I thought you came here to paint?’

  It was as if they were the only two people in the room, Mark, Valerie, Mandy, and the rather pleasant-looking young man who seemed to be her partner, all fading into the background as Ryan’s and Grant’s glances met and held, sparks of awareness shooting across the short distance between them.

  Ryan felt herself sway towards him, felt his hands on her arm, drawing herself away from him as she realised what they were doing. Mark’s conversation with Valerie suddenly seemed very loud to her ears, while Mandy’s softly spoken partner was flattering her quite shamelessly.

  Colour flooded Ryan’s cheeks, embarrassment making her voice sharp. ‘And to see Mark’s home,’ she said brittlely. ‘We feel that it’s important I like it here.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Grant’s own expression was remote now, the blaze had gone from his eyes. ‘And do you like it?’

  ‘Most of it,’ she nodded.

  ‘I won’t ask which parts you don’t like,’ he drawled. ‘I think that’s all too obvious.’

  Was he mad? Couldn’t he tell how rapidly her heart was beating, couldn’t he hear it? It sounded so loud to her ears that she felt as if the whole room heard it!

  But maybe it was as well that he couldn’t guess at her feelings for him, it would simply make a mockery of her claim that she and Mark were to be married soon. Grant wouldn’t hesitate in his methods of parting her and Mark if he knew she loved him.

  ‘Possibly,’ she nodded distantly.

  ‘Darling!’ Valerie swayed gracefully to Grant’s side, her brown-eyed gaze razor-sharp as she looked at Ryan. ‘You mustn’t monopolise Ryan, darling,’ she gently reprimanded. ‘You’ll be making poor Mark jealous.’

  ‘Mark’s too sure of me to ever be jealous.’ Ryan was the one to answer the taunt.’

  ‘How boring to be so sure,’ Valerie drawled. ‘So much more exciting for there to be just the hint of danger about a relationship. But not too much danger,’ she added hardly, her eyes narrowed warningly.

  She knew, this woman knew And she was telling Ryan that she would allow her relationship with Grant to go so far and no farther. Grant stood silently at her side; didn’t he realise what this woman was saying? Or didn’t he care? Hadn’t he said he wanted no recriminations for desiring her? Heavens, she—

  ‘Everything all right?’ Mark joined them, his arm going about Ryan’s shoulders.

  She was glad of this show of possessiveness, and gave him a dazzling smile. ‘Everything is fine,’ she said throatily. ‘Now that you’re here.’

  He grinned down at her, obviously enjoying himself immensely. ‘I feel the same way.’

  ‘Then perhaps it would have been better if Ryan had stayed in London with you,’ Valerie said silkily. ‘If you miss each other that badly.’

  ‘I wanted her to see my home,’ Mark echoed her own comment. ‘I think it’s time to go in to dinner now, Grant,’ he turned to his brother. ‘Shelley has been trying to attract your attention for the last five minutes.’

  Grant nodded. ‘I’m aware of that,’ he said curtly.

  ‘Couldn’t drag yourself away from these two lovely ladies, hmm?’ Mark teased.

  Green eyes bored into him. ‘Your taste certainly seems to have improved.’ Grant took hold of Valerie’s arm, leading her through to dinner.

  ‘It’s working!’ Mark said to Ryan with glee. ‘You’ll have charmed the pants off him by the time you leave here!’

  Ryan choked over her sherry, feeling Mark’s painful thumps on the back.

  ‘I didn’t mean that literally,’ he chided as she used a tissue to wipe the tears from her cheeks. ‘Or did I?’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Ryan—’

  ‘I think they’re waiting to start dinner,’ she told him huskily, not wanting her innermost feelings probed. And Mark was already becoming suspicious!

  She kept a low profile during dinner, letting Valerie Chatham do most of the talking, something she seemed quite willing to do, her humour brittle and often spiteful, although no one else seemed to notice that.

  There were no brooding looks from Grant this evening, in fact he didn’t look at her at all, barely noticing her presence at the table he hosted, seeming intent on bringing out Mandy’s partner, Colin Daniels. He was apparently the son of another local land owner, and while he was very pleasant he didn’t seem to hold Mandy’s attention.

  ‘Mandy seems very quiet this trip.’ Mark remarked as he drove Ryan home later that evening. ‘Any idea what’s troubling her?’

  She had a very good idea, but it wasn’t up to her to tell Mark his sister was suffering from a painful bout of unrequited love. And just how painful that could be she had found out tonight. The intimacy between Grant and Valerie was even more noticeable tonight, to her at least.

  ‘She’s your sister, Mark,’ Ryan evaded. ‘Why not ask her?’

  ‘Because she’d tell me to mind my own business,’ he said ruefully. ‘Since she grew up she’s seemed to tell me nothing else. I can’t understand it, we used to be quite close, in fact we all did. Grant more or less brought us up after our parents died.’

  ‘More lambs,’ she said without thinking, blushing as she saw Mark’s curious look. ‘Don Short told me that when Grant was young he used to take in all the orphaned lambs,’ she mumbled.

  Mark grinned, ‘He’s been taking in waifs and strays all his life.’

  ‘He didn’t want to take in Ragtag—or me, for that matter,’ she grimaced.

  ‘Did you want him to take you in?’ he quirked one dark brow.

  ‘No,’ she denied curtly.

  Mark shrugged. ‘What did you think of my great-grandfather’s paintings? It’s a private collection, you know. Grant occasionally shows them in his gallery, but otherwise they stay on the estate.’

  ‘I haven’t seen them,’ she had to admit.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Look, Mark, I’m your guest. I couldn’t ask Grant or Mandy to show me them.’

  ‘Why the hell not?’ he scowled.

  ‘Because I couldn’t,’ she shrugged. ‘And mind your language,’ she warned teasingly as he began to swear. ‘This is your future wife, remember.’

  He sighed. ‘I’d never be able to handle you! Come up to the house tomorrow and I’ll show you the gallery in the house. Some time in the afternoon,’ he added. ‘I’ll be in bed in the mor
ning, country air always has that effect on me.’

  Ryan’s mouth twisted. ‘Don’t make excuses,’ she taunted. ‘We both know you never can get out of bed.’

  ‘Modesty forbids me asking how you could know such a thing!’

  Ryan laughed. ‘Because of the amount of times you were late for college.’ She got out of the car. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ***

  She had a visitor the next morning, a dejected-looking Mandy, her expression glum as she made herself comfortable in the living-room at Ryan’s request.

  ‘What did you think of Colin?’ she finally asked.

  ‘Think of him?’ Ryan echoed vaguely, having problems of her own, Ragtag paramount in her mind at the moment. He had managed to slip out of the door past her last night as she entered the house, and he hadn’t come back until this morning. If he had been at the sheep again…Heavens, it wouldn’t be long before someone caught him if he had!

  ‘Yes, think of him,’ Mandy said sharply, sensing her lack of concentration. ‘Grant thinks I should marry him’.

  ‘Marry him?’ Ryan blinked, forgetting about Ragtag for the moment and listening fully to Mandy now. ‘Have you known him long?’

  ‘All my life.’ The other girl still looked glum.

  ‘You seemed to like him last night.’

  ‘I do like him,’ Mandy’s eyes flashed deeply hazel, ‘but I don’t love him.’

  ‘No,’ Ryan acknowledged softly. ‘You love Peter Thornby, don’t you?’

  ‘No, I—’ Mandy flushed, breaking off her protest. ‘Yes, I love him,’ she admitted huskily. ‘I thought for a while that he loved me too, then—then nothing.’

  ‘What happened?’ Ryan prompted.

  She shrugged. ‘I just don’t know. We never actually went out together or anything like that, but the feeling was there. I know it was there,’ she said fiercely. ‘Then he just stopped calling at the house, except on a professional basis,’ she added bitterly. ‘I asked him what I’d done, why he suddenly didn’t like me any more. And he said—he said I’d imagined it all,’ her voice broke. ‘But I didn’t, Ryan. I’m sure I didn’t!’