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She paused at the door to scowl at Angus. “And you and I will be having a discussion about this particular incident, and about yourvery bad dogsin general.”
Angus bristled. “Now, see here, lassie—“
“I wouldn’t, Grandda,” Arnprior warned.
With an indignant huff, the countess sailed out of the room, followed by her faithful retainer.
“A lot of botheration over nothin’ if ye ask me,” Angus said with commendable nonchalance. “Now, how about a wee dram to hold us over?”
“You’re ridiculous.” Grant clamped a hand on his grandfather’s shoulder and steered him to one of the needlepointed armchairs by the fireplace.
“There’s nae need to manhandle me,” Angus protested. “It’s just a wee bit of fuss.”
“I think they’re very nice dogs,” Jeannie said, crouching down to give the other two terriers a pet. “I wish I had one.”
Angus beamed at her. “One of my girlies up at Kinglas will be whelpin’ a litter soon. Ye shall have yer pick, Miss Jeannie.”
Hell and damnation.
“That’s very kind, sir,” Kathleen hastily put, “but we’re not in the position to have a pet just now.”
If Jeannie returned to London with a scruffy terrier in tow, Helen would be apoplectic.
Her sister glared at her. “You always had a dog when you were growing up.”
“Every bairn should have a dog, ye ken,” Angus unhelpfully added.
Grant, who’d fetched his grandfather a whisky, shoved the glass into his hand. “I’m sure Miss Calvert has her reasons, Grandda. We should respect them.”
The old man subsided with a mutter.
Jeannie, unfortunately, did not. “I think you’re being very unfair, Kath. And mean.”
Kathleen tried not to wince. “Dearest, perhaps we could talk about this later.”
“Och, nae need to be embarrassed, lass,” Angus said. “We Kendricks yell it out all the time.”
“Not a helpful observation, Grandda,” Arnprior sternly said.
“Fah,” the old fellow trenchantly replied.
“Fah,” Jeannie echoed, lifting a defiant chin.
Grant cast a swift look at Kathleen before hunkering down next to Jeannie. He reached out and ruffled the head of one of the dogs, earning a slobbering lick.
“The pups won’t be whelped for another few weeks,” he said to the girl. “And they won’t be able to leave their mother for several more weeks after that. In the meantime, I think my grandfather would be happy to lend you little Daisy here. She’s a very sweet dog, as you can see, and she can be your special companion while you’re staying with us.”
Jeannie shyly returned his smile. “That . . . that would be splendid, as long as your grandfather doesn’t mind.”
“Daisy would be happy for the attention,” Angus said.
“Can she sleep in my bedroom?”
Grant glanced over his shoulder at Kathleen and lifted a questioning eyebrow.
“Please say yes, Kath,” Jeannie pleaded, blinking a few times.
Kathleen’s heart throbbed with a small, sad ache. Despite her pampered upbringing, Jeannie’s life had not been easy under Helen’s thumb. All the things Kathleen had enjoyed as a child—riding horses through the countryside, climbing trees, larking about in the gardens—were freedoms her sister had never tasted. Sitting there on the floor, hugging one of the dogs in her lap, Jeannie looked more like a lonesome child than a blossoming girl on the cusp of womanhood.
