Page 45 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

‘No, and while we’re on this topic . . . have you packed your things yet?’

Valerie made a great show of serving the tea, shaking the pot to swill the leaves, arranging the tea strainer over each cup before pouring in a long, steady brown stream. ‘I have started.’

‘See you finish that task. Soon.’ He downed his cup of tea. ‘I must be off; I’ve an additional task to perform before breakfast.’

The back door slammed loudly enough to rattle the ornaments on the Aga shelf.

At the kitchen table, Sammy froze, linen ledger forgotten.

A muffled ‘good grief’, then paws – scrabbling frantically – followed by a skidding sound across the flagstone floor as if someone had released a small, determined storm into the house.

She pushed her chair back. ‘. . . hello?’

The scrabbling intensified. The kitchen door flew open and a blur shot past – ears, tail – panting with enthusiasm. Magnus followed, stumbling behind, a bright green lead stretched taut in his hand.

‘Stop . . .’ Magnus said sharply. ‘Stop It.’

The dog careered towards the pantry, claws clicking wildly on stone, then back out again, lead – now minus Magnus – trailing. The dog spun in a tight, ecstatic circle before launching himself at Sammy. She caught his paws as he jumped up. ‘My goodness, you’re powerful, aren’t you?’

Magnus emerged from the pantry, one hand dragging through his hair, the other straightening his tie. ‘Come,’ he said, his tone clipped. ‘Come here, Stop It.’

The dog ignored him, circling Sammy instead.

‘Morning, Mr Magnus,’ Sammy said. ‘Would you like some tea?’

‘Yes, thank you, Miss Jenkins,’ Magnus replied, as if nothing were amiss. ‘That would be . . . Stop.’ The last word sharpened.

The dog made for a chair.

‘Down,’ Magnus said.

Stop It climbed anyway.

Sammy bit back a smile. ‘Milk, no sugar, right?’

‘Yes. No sugar.’

Magnus reached for the trailing lead. The dog bounced off the chair and over to Sammy, its front paws landing against her thighs, making her stumble to regain her balance.

‘Right,’ she said, steadying it without thinking. ‘Hello again.’

Stop It licked her chin.

‘We are not encouraging that behaviour,’ Magnus said.

‘No,’ Sammy agreed, not moving her hands. The dog leaned harder into her. She changed her grip, putting pressure on the collar. ‘Sit.’

Stop It folded.

The kettle clicked off.

‘Good,’ said Magnus, smoothing his cuffs. ‘He’s calming down.’

Sammy had barely settled herself at the table before the dog nudged her leg, testing.

‘Firmness,’ Magnus said, lifting his cup. ‘That’s the key with this animal.’

‘Mm,’ Sammy said. The dog tried again, pushing up. ‘Down,’ she said, more firmly this time. Stop It resisted, then yielded, dropping back.