Heaven Here On Earth

by Carole Mortimer

  She cried then, cried for the love that wouldn’t die, the love she doubted would ever die.

  But she would save her beloved Ragtag, would take him away from here, away from the temptation that threatened his life—and away from the temptation that threatened hers too.

  But it seemed her misery wasn’t over for one day, that fate could be even crueller. Another car was coming down the narrow lane to the cottage, not Mark’s, she knew the sound of his sports car off by heart.

  The sight of the yellow Porsche made her groan. Valerie Chatham! She hadn’t seen the other woman for a couple of weeks now, hadn’t particularly cared whether or not she ever saw her again, and she knew the dislike was mutual.

  This woman had never paid a friendly visit on anyone in her life, Ryan was sure of that, and she had no idea what she could want here now.

  CHAPTER NINE

  VALERIE slid gracefully out of her seat, the purple suit she wore clinging to the perfection of her body, a pillbox hat in the same purple shade perfect against the darkness of her hair.

  She swayed smoothly over to where Ryan sat, her high heels clicking on the concrete pathway. ‘How pale you look,’ was her opening comment as she sank silkily into one of the chairs, looking in the best of health herself, her skin a glowing gold.

  ‘I’m always pale,’ Ryan said without rancour, not willing to show her resentment to this woman. She hadn’t regretted not seeing this woman the last couple of weeks, and the sooner she left the better Ryan would feel.

  ‘Yes,’ Valerie drawled. ‘So clumsy of you to fall over like that.’

  Ryan’s eyes widened at this frontal attack. ‘I can assure you I didn’t do it on purpose!’

  Valerie looked at her coldly. ‘Didn’t you?’ Her gaze was insolent. ‘It had the desired effect, didn’t it?’

  ‘Did it?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ the other woman gave a hard laugh. ‘Poor Grant felt it was his responsibility to take care of you. And, of course, the way you threw yourself at him didn’t help the situation. The poor man has been quite guilt-stricken about that too.’

  Ryan was still with indignation now. ‘Really?’ Surely Grant hadn’t discussed her with this woman, told her they had made love? If he had it didn’t fit in with the things he had said to her a little over an hour ago. Could Valerie Chatham possibly be playing a grand bluff?

  ‘You’re so young,’ Valerie scorned now. ‘You don’t have the faintest idea how to keep a man like Grant.’

  ‘And you do?’

  ‘Certainly. He wanted you, I let him have you. Now he’s come back to me.’

  ‘Suitably penitent, I hope?’ Ryan taunted, more sure of herself now.

  Brown eyes flashed Valerie’s dislike, although she quickly had herself under control again, smiling falsely. ‘Grant and I have been lovers a long time, we have no need to make apologies for light flirtations, we can be civilised about these things. When I marry Grant—’

  ‘I thought it was “if”,’ Ryan mocked.

  ‘Did you?’ Arched eyebrows rose, and Valerie smoothed the silky skirt of her suit down her slender thighs. ‘I can assure you it will be when. And once we’re married Grant won’t even look at you.’

  ‘Maybe I don’t want him to!’ Ryan was tiring of this game, didn’t believe for a moment that this woman had any real authority to talk of marrying Grant. He was above all honest, and he had told her only minutes ago that he was morally free, not legally committed to anyone. And that included Valerie Chatham!

  Valerie’s mouth twisted. ‘You’ve been a little too obvious in your interest in him, my dear. I remember Grant was quite embarrassed at first—and then he thought it might be amusing to flirt with Mark’s little girl-friend. But I doubt if you considered it a flirtation, did you, Ryan?’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about—Valerie,’ Ryan taunted. ‘If you’re so sure of Grant why come and see me? I can’t hurt you, surely?’

  ‘Of course you can’t,’ the other woman said waspishly. ‘I’m just trying to point out to you how awkward it could be for you if you insist on pursuing Grant in this way when we’re married.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so.’ Ryan looked at her in challenge. ‘You see, Grant and I have already sorted this matter out.’

  Valerie tried to hide her surprise, but she didn’t do a very good job of it; there was a flush to her cheeks and her eyes narrowed. ‘Indeed?’ she snapped.

  ‘Mm,’ Ryan nodded. ‘We see no reason to stop our affair.’

  ‘Affair—?’ the other woman spluttered, completely disconcerted now.

  Ryan looked at her coolly. She had called this woman’s bluff, and she knew she had won. ‘Maybe you should go back and talk to Grant,’ she advised haughtily. ‘It would appear he hasn’t been telling you everything after all.’

  ‘You little—’

  ‘Please—Valerie,’ drawled Ryan. ‘Remember, we’re civilised people.’

  ‘You’re an opportunist little bitch!’ Valerie stood up, no longer trying to hide her anger behind a veneer of sophistication. ‘You think you can have both Grant and Mark?’

  ‘And can’t I?’

  The brown eyes glittered her hatred. ‘Not if I have anything to do with it!’

  ‘And do you?’ Ryan mocked, wishing the other woman would just leave.

  ‘Oh yes!’ Valerie was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling in her agitation. ‘Once I’ve told Grant about this conversation—’

  ‘Is that a good idea?’

  Triumph shone in the other woman’s eyes. ‘So you aren’t so confident after all.’

  ‘I was thinking of you,’ Ryan told her calmly. ‘I’ve merely related to you the plans Grant and I have made for the future. But I’m sure Grant would be interested in your side of this conversation. After all, he’s already heard mine.’

  ‘You—you—’

  Ryan watched as Valerie went from being supremely confident to outrageously angry. And considering the context of the conversation Ryan considered she was the one who should be angry—furiously so. Valerie might have guessed at a lot of the relationship between Grant and herself, but she hadn’t necessarily guessed at all of it.

  ‘He’s mine,’ Valerie hissed. ‘He has been for the last year, and he will be again when you’ve gone.’

  Ryan shrugged. ‘As I said, I think Grant is the one you should be talking to.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to,’ Valerie spat out, all trace of beauty gone in her fury. ‘We’ll see which of us stays in Grant’s life!’ She turned and walked back to her car, no longer the composed woman who had arrived fifteen minutes earlier.

  Ryan relaxed with a sigh as the other woman drove away. Valerie Chatham might not realise it yet, but it was a no-contest as far as Grant was concerned—she didn’t even want to fight for him.

  But the other woman’s visit had unnerved her, and her hand was shaking slightly as she poured herself some orange juice. It was one thing to face a rival on equal terms, quite another to face them when you couldn’t even get up and walk away when you wanted to. And several times during that conversation she had wanted to.

  ‘What did she want?’

  Ryan looked up to find Mark blocking out the sun. ‘Sorry?’ she blinked, having been so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed Mark and Diana’s return.

  ‘Valerie,’ he lounged next to her. ‘What did she want?’

  ‘Why, to enquire after my health, of course,’ she drawled.

  Diana was frowning. ‘She looked furious. She almost drove Mark and me off the road at the end of the lane,’ she grimaced.

  ‘And she wasn’t enquiring after your health,’ Mark said dryly. ‘Not unless she was asking when the funeral is.’

  Ryan’s mouth quirked at his humour. ‘Not quite,’ she smiled. ‘But close. She was warning me off Grant—I think. I’m not sure she really knew why she was here herself.’

  ‘Stupid woman!’ Mark scowled. ‘If Grant gets to hear about this he’ll be furi
ous.’

  ‘But he isn’t going to hear about it—is he?’ she said pointedly.

  ‘If you say not,’ he shrugged.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Okay,’ he sighed. ‘Although I think you should know Grant hasn’t seen Valerie for over a week now. When I asked him about it he almost bit my head off.’

  ‘Maybe they’ve argued,’ she dismissed uninterestedly.

  ‘Ryan—’

  ‘Did you have a nice lunch?’ she pointedly changed the subject. ‘And are wedding bells ringing yet?’

  Luckily, for her sake, they weren’t, but she knew it wouldn’t be much longer before Diana accepted Mark’s proposal. And when it happened she would be happy for both of them—she just hoped it wouldn’t happen until they had all returned to London and they were far away from Grant!

  ***

  On the eve of their departure back to London she and Diana were invited up to the Hall for dinner. Ryan didn’t really want to go, but she could hardly refuse without being extremely rude.

  ‘You look lovely,’ Diana assured her.

  She did feel quite attractive in a black dress, its long length hiding the clumsiness of her plastered ankle.

  ‘No crutches for you tonight.’ Mark put them aside, sensing her reluctance to use them. ‘Tonight I’ll be your mobility.’ He swept her up in his arms. ‘Your carriage awaits without, milady,’ he added teasingly.

  ‘Sometimes I think you’re without,’ Diana said dryly as she followed behind them. ‘Without brains.’ She slid into the passenger seat of the Jaguar while Mark settled Ryan in the back.

  ‘And that’s before we’re married!’ Mark groaned, getting in behind the wheel. ‘I dread to think what insults I shall get once we’re husband and wife.’

  ‘Wife and husband,’ Diana told him. ‘Let’s get our priorities right.’

  Ryan felt ridiculous being carried into the Hall, and the three of them were in hysterics as Mark almost dropped her.

  ‘Let me.’

  ‘What—? Oh, Grant,’ Mark grinned as he turned to his brother, relinquishing Ryan without a murmur. ‘The cavalry are here!’

  Ryan could quite cheerfully have hit him! How dared he just hand her over to Grant like this!

  She couldn’t even look up at Grant, her eyes on a level with his chin, his jaw rigid. And he smelt of the tangy aftershave she had detected on her own skin each time he had kissed her, the masculine odour stirring her senses.

  He carried her through to the lounge with ease, seeming no more inclined to talk than she was, putting her down on the sofa to step back. She chanced a glance at him, at once wishing she hadn’t, as Mark and Diana’s lighthearted chatter faded into the background, her hungry gaze devouring him.

  He looked more strained than ever, his skin very pale, his loss of weight more noticeable. And if she were staring at him he was staring straight back, and her cheeks became flushed as he seemed unable to look away.

  ‘How is your ankle?’ he asked huskily, also seeming to have forgotten the other couple.

  ‘Very well—thank you. Well enough to travel back with Mark tomorrow.’

  Grant nodded. ‘He told me.’

  ‘I—I think it’s best, don’t you?’ She swallowed hard. This meeting was being as difficult as she had thought it would be.

  ‘For whom?’ he said gruffly.

  ‘Well, I—It means Ragtag and I will be away from here. All your worries will be over.’

  ‘Will they?’ he sighed.

  ‘Of course they will,’ she insisted briskly. ‘But if there’s any way I can compensate—’

  ‘Compensate!’ he rasped. ‘How the hell could you do that?’ His eyes glittered with anger.

  ‘Well, I—’

  ‘No, you can’t compensate, Ryan,’ he bit out harshly. ‘We’ll just count the incident as over, shall we?’

  ‘If you’re sure…’

  ‘Very,’ he turned away abruptly. ‘Perhaps I can offer you a drink before dinner?’ His voice was silkily charming as he spoke to Diana.

  What followed had to be the worst evening Ryan had ever spent, and she had had a few of them since coming to Montgomery Hall three weeks ago.

  Three weeks…It didn’t seem possible that so much had happened to her in that time. She had set out on that Saturday morning, in complete ignorance of the traumatic love that awaited her, thinking she was just going to spend three peaceful, uneventful weeks painting. As it turned out, she had done very little painting, only one completed canvas, and even that was still up in the studio. She felt loath to ask for its return.

  ‘I’ll go and get it,’ Mark suggested after dinner, which had been a rather strained affair, with Grant being charming to Diana, the charm completely disappearing when he had, through necessity, to speak to Ryan. ‘Like to come and see the studio, Diana?’ he suggested softly.

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘I’d love to.’ Diana ignored Ryan’s plea, following Mark out of the room.

  Ryan looked at Grant beneath lowered lashes, having the distinct feeling that Mark and Diana had deliberately left them alone like this. She had no idea what they hoped to achieve, but she could see Grant welcomed this time alone no more than she did.

  The silence between them stretched on awkwardly, and Ryan kept shooting pleading glances in the direction of the door, longing for Mark and Diana’s return.

  ‘I have a feeling they think they’re playing Cupid,’ Grant drawled.

  So did she—and she could have knocked their heads together! She and Grant had nothing to say to each other, she doubted they ever had.

  ‘Unless Mark is just trying to get rid of you,’ he added insultingly. ‘It must be obvious to even the most casual of observers, and you’re far from being that, that those two are in love.’

  And Grant was far from being a casual observer too! He had been watching them all with the eyes of a hawk, seemed to know their every emotion.

  ‘Well?’ he rasped at her silence. ‘Don’t you have anything to say about them?’

  She wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Congratulations?’ She couldn’t go on pretending to be in ignorance of Mark and Diana’s love for each other any more.

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘What else is there?’ she shrugged.

  ‘Nothing, obviously. You’re taking this very well,’ he frowned.

  ‘Aren’t I?’ Her voice was brittle.

  ‘Ryan—Damn!’ Grant swore as the telephone began to ring, snatching up the receiver.

  Ryan tried not to listen, but as soon as she knew the late-night call was from Don Short she couldn’t help but do so.

  ‘Again?’ Grant rasped, glancing at Ryan. ‘But I thought he’d been kept away from them—No, of course I’m not blaming you,’ he sighed. ‘You know what we have to do? Yes,’ he acknowledged heavily, ‘I’ll tell her. It’s my responsibility too. I’ll be with you in about fifteen minutes.’ He rang off with a worried frown.

  For Ryan, even though she could only hear Grant’s side, the conversation was only too lucid. ‘You won’t tell me anything!’ she spoke fiercely to Grant’s back, glaring at him as he slowly turned to face her, a frown between his deep green eyes. ‘Ragtag and I are leaving here tomorrow, after that he’ll never bother you again.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ He seemed preoccupied, dragging his attention back to her with effort. ‘Who won’t bother me?’

  ‘I know, Grant,’ she said heavily. ‘I know who’s killing the sheep. And I won’t let you kill him.’

  ‘It may have to be done—’

  ‘Not if I take him away—’

  ‘How can you take him away?’ he snapped his impatience. ‘For heaven’s sake, Ryan, I don’t have the time for this right now.’

  ‘No,’ her eyes glittered, ‘you want to go out there and kill Ragtag,’ her voice cracked. ‘Well, I’m not going to let you. Once we’re away from here—’

  ‘You think I bought you Ragtag just to have him destroye
d?’ Grant’s voice was icily dangerous.

  Ryan looked at him closely, seeing the glowering anger in his eyes, the white fury about his mouth, and in that moment she knew she had been wrong about him, that there was no ruthless side to Grant, that he didn’t want to hurt her.

  Closely following her ecstatic relief came the agony of realising that he knew how she had misjudged him now, knew and was disgusted with her.

  ‘Grant—’

  ‘That’s what you thought,’ he ground out. ‘That’s the reason you changed towards me. You made love with me, somehow gained the impression that it was your dog doing all the damage—’

  ‘He isn’t, is he?’

  ‘No,’ Grant rasped harshly, ‘he isn’t. But you thought I intended having him put down. That’s the compensation you were offering!’

  ‘I overheard you talking with Peter—’

  ‘And broke your ankle on the strength of it.’ His mouth twisted with open disgust now. ‘What sort of man do you think I am, to make love to you one minute and then contemplate killing something you love so deeply the next? Don’t bother to answer that,’ he snapped. ‘You obviously think I’m totally inhuman—’

  ‘Grant, please—’

  ‘Please!’ he glared down at her. ‘You dare to say please to me after thinking I’m some sort of emotionless monster! And all that rubbish you told me about an affair once you marry Mark—you didn’t mean that, did you? You knew I’d never accept such an arrangement, counted on my not accepting.’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted huskily.

  ‘I don’t have the time to waste here now,’ he said impatiently. ‘And you’ll probably be gone by the time I do have this situation sorted out—’

  ‘Grant—’

  ‘There’s no more to be said, Ryan,’ he dismissed scathingly. ‘Let’s just chalk this one down to experience.’

  ‘But I’m not—’ she broke off, biting her bottom lip in consternation.

  ‘Not experienced? No,’ he sighed, ‘I know you aren’t, and that puzzled me. But I was willing to accept that you wished our lovemaking hadn’t happened, that you do truly love Mark. But you don’t, do you?’

  ‘No.’