Shelton,’ Mandy supplied with obvious relish.
He drew in an angry breath. ‘Another of Mark’s little jokes, I take it?’ he rasped, his voice no longer pleasurable to listen to in his displeasure.
Ryan listened to the exchange between brother and sister with a sinking heart. It didn’t sound as if she was exactly welcome here! And Mark had sworn he had arranged everything! She should have known. She would kill him when she got back to—–
‘Please excuse us, Miss Shelton,’ Grant Montgomery spoke to her directly now. ‘When Mark informed us of your visit he omitted one thing.’
At least it was only one!
‘The fact that you’re a girl,’ Grant finished in a derisive voice.
Ryan swallowed hard, as the sinking feeling returned. ‘He did?’ she grimaced. What did it mean? Wasn’t she welcome if she was a girl?
‘Yes,’ Grant Montgomery bit out, his eyes icy now, derogative as he looked her up and down. ‘He merely said it would be a friend called Ryan.’
‘Does it make a difference?’ She chewed on her bottom lip.
‘To your visit here? No,’ he shrugged dismissively. ‘Although I’m a little surprised at your interest in art.’
‘Interest?’ she echoed sharply. ‘It’s more than an interest, it’s my career,’ she defended, sensing his criticism.
‘Oh yes?’ he scorned. ‘And what do you intend doing with it?’
‘Well, I—–’
‘Because unless you have an exceptional talent,’ which his tone seemed to imply he doubted, ‘or intend going into advertising or teaching, art is a complete waste of time, especially for a woman.’
Ryan flushed. ‘Maybe I have an exceptional talent,’ she snapped, her chin at a challenging angle.
‘Maybe,’ Grant Montgomery drawled. ‘And now you have the use of an exceptional studio. But not of the cottage, I’m afraid,’ he added with a frown.
‘No?’ She tried to remain calm in the face of what looked like being a wasted journey. Even supposing Grant Montgomery did let her have the use of the studio, she doubted if the village had a hotel. If it didn’t have a taxi it was highly unlikely to have a hotel!
‘No. You see—–’ He broke off as a strange noise sounded through the house. ‘What the hell—–!’ He strode off through the open patio doors to the back of the house where the noise appeared to be coming from.
Ryan followed more slowly. She already knew what the strange noise was. Ragtag howling. …
HE was still howling when the three of them reached the back of the house, sitting in the cobbled yard with his head raised to the clear blue sky, howling soulfully, as if his very life depended on it.
Grant Montgomery came to an abrupt halt, staring incredulously at the scruffy dog. ‘Good grief,’ he blinked, as if his eyes had to be deceiving him. ‘What on earth is that?’
Ryan bridled at his scornful tone, and Ragtag stopped his howling long enough to growl at the tall imposing man who looked down at him so disdainfully.
‘It looks like a dog,’ said Mandy in amusement.
‘It is a dog!’ Ryan moved to Ragtag’s side, going down on her haunches to have her face licked ecstatically by her new canine friend. She glared up at the brother and sister. ‘My dog,’ she told them angrily.
Grant’s brows rose arrogantly. ‘You’re expecting him to stay here too?’
‘You said I couldn’t use the cottage,’ she reminded him, standing up, but keeping the now quiet Ragtag at her side.
‘At this moment, unfortunately not. Some of the roof tiles have come loose during the winter storms, something that wasn’t discovered until yesterday when the cottage was opened up for you. I have a man working on it now, but until such time as the repairs are completed and the cottage is aired for you you’re welcome to stay in the house.’ He looked down at Ragtag. ‘The dog is not.’
She looked down at Ragtag too, seeing what Grant Montgomery must see, a dirty unbrushed mutt, desperately in need of a good cleaning. But she also saw the trust in his deep brown eyes as he watched her, the almost stupidly loving expression on his face, his tail wagging goodnaturedly. If what Peter Thornby said was truth, that Ragtag was probably a stray, then there was no reason why he shouldn’t become her dog.
‘I have two dogs of my own,’ Grant Montgomery added before she could make any comment. ‘Two Golden Labradors. I doubt they would welcome—–’ he paused pointedly.
‘Ragtag,’ she mumbled at his prompting.
‘How appropriate,’ Mandy taunted.
Ryan flashed her a look of dislike. ‘That’s what I thought.’
‘Yes, well,’ Grant Montgomery’s mouth showed signs of a smile, although it never materialised, ‘Rex and Riba don’t like strange dogs in their home. But that isn’t to say your dog isn’t welcome to stay, as you are,’ this last seemed to come out rather grudgingly. ‘Would you mind if he slept in the stable until the cottage is ready? It will only be for a couple of nights.’
Considering Ragtag was probably used to sleeping under the stars, a stable would probably be a luxury to him. And yet Ryan was aware that Grant Montgomery was only making a token show of seeking her approval, that it was the stable or nothing. Her mutt mustn’t be allowed to mix with his purebred Labradors!
‘I realise he needs a bath—–’
‘That’s an understatement,’ Mandy mocked.
Again Ryan looked at her with dislike. Snobbish little cat! ‘We happen to have travelled a long way,’ she flashed. ‘Both of us got rather dusty on the walk from the station.’
‘You walked?’ the other girl gasped.
She stiffened. ‘Of course.’
Grant Montgomery was frowning, the problem of Ragtag forgotten. ‘You came by train?’
‘Why else would I be at the station?’
His eyes hardened as he met the anger in hers. ‘Mark didn’t tell us you would be coming by train.’
‘Does it matter?’ she dismissed, becoming more and more disenchanted with this situation.
‘Not at all,’ he answered coldly. ‘Except there was no need for you to have walked all that way. A telephone call and one of us would have come and got you.’
She shrugged. ‘I managed to get a lift in the end.’
‘Oh yes?’
Ryan
