“What? And miss this little display of domesticity? Oh no, Philip darling. I wanted so much to meet your new lady friend … but I think we’ve met before, haven’t we, my dear? Don’t you have employment in that little shop in Harrogate … must be riveting … meeting all kinds of people … including my fiancé!”
Seeing Sue quaking in her boots, Philip leapt to her defence. “If you’ve just come to be nasty you can go now, Delia. I’ve boxed up your things … they’re upstairs. I’ll bring them over.”
“I want them now.”
Philip waved a hand at the mixture in the frying pan. “We’re just about to eat.”
“Oh, I’m sure your new lady friend won’t mind keeping an eye on the food for a moment or two, would you dear?”
Sue gulped and nodded, standing up to take the spoon from Philip. He looked worriedly at her. “You sure you’ll be all right for a minute or two?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Philip. I’m not going to eat her,” snapped Delia, her dark eyes flashing dangerously.
Reluctant to leave Sue alone with Delia in such an angry mode, Philip made no effort to move away from the cooker.
“Come upstairs with me, Delia. You can make sure I’ve packed everything.”
Delia’s eyes flashed again. “Don’t tell me you want a quickie … and with your guest downstairs too. Philip! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
He shot Delia an angry look, smiled reassuringly at Sue and left the room, rushing up the stairs so that he could return to the kitchen in the shortest possible time.
Sue turned her full attention to stirring the mixture in the frying pan. Delia sauntered over to the table and flopped into the chair Sue had just vacated.
“Don’t get too comfy at Tangles, my dear as I doubt you’ll be here very long. Philip loves me. He always has. We’ve been soul mates since we met as small children. We are meant for each other and whatever you might think we will be married in two weeks’ time.”
Shocked by Delia’s words, Sue bravely turned to face her, hands shaking and her voice unable to hide a tremor of fear. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am … I … we didn’t want to hurt anyone … but it just happened … and what do you mean … about the wedding. It’s cancelled.”
“Not on your life!” hissed Delia. “This wedding is going ahead whatever you might think. I will never, never give him up, not to you or anybody. No doubt he fancied a bit of extra excitement before the big day … and that’s fine by me … I understand … but it won’t be long before he realises you are just a passing dalliance and you will be history.”
“You are very sure of yourself,” said Sue, feeling doubtful as she spoke. Was Delia right? Was it just a passing dalliance? She would be heartbroken if it was.
“I should be,” remarked Delia, seeing the doubt in Sue’s eyes. “We know each other so well. We’ve been through some traumatic times together, we’ve run this place together, we lost our virginity to each other …”
Sue blushed and turned back to the frying pan. The contents were beginning to burn and she turned down the heat.
Delia was pleased with Sue’s discomfiture and continued the theme. “Yes, Sue, the sex. Philip has quite an appetite you know. I hope you’re up to it.”
Delia stood up and moved closer to the younger girl, running her hand lightly down Sue’s back. “You have a nice little figure but can you do the business? Would you like some instruction? Now, there’s a thought. We could have a threesome.”
“DELIA!”
Philip stood in the doorway, a cardboard box in his arms, and a look of fury on his face.
Delia, nonplussed, smiled provocatively. “Oh, come on, darling. It’s a great idea. We could go upstairs now … I’ll get into my new basque … it’s red satin, you’ll love it. Sue can wear the black one. I’ll show her what you like … and then we can do it together … we’ll send you to heaven, darling.”
“That’s enough! It’s a monstrous suggestion.”
Delia’s eyes danced wickedly. She knew she was behaving unacceptably but couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to shock, to hurt, to vent her anger on them both. She continued. “Why is it, Philip? Have you not told Sue about our games … the dressing up … how we’ve virtually worked our way through the Kama Sutra … how you’ve always fantasised about two women pandering to your needs? Well, now’s your chance. Take it while you can because once we’re married there will only be me.”
Philip dumped the box onto the table and moved towards Sue, who was standing like stone. “Don’t take any notice. She’s just trying to wind us up.” He placed a protective arm around her shoulders
The gesture stung Delia deeply. She hit out again. “We have photographs, don’t we darling. Where have you hidden them? Let’s show Sue exactly what you like.”
Philip shifted uneasily and looked at his feet.
“Don’t tell me you’ve destroyed them,” Delia spat.
Philip pointed to the box on the table. “There are your things, Delia,” he said quietly. “Now just go.”
Delia picked up the box and put it down again. “You’ll have to bring this over. I’ve walked here and it’s too heavy to carry back to the Hall.”
“I’ll send one of the grooms with it.”
“Why? Can’t bear to tear yourself away from your little friend? That’s okay. She can come with you … the bedrooms are bigger at Canleigh … more room for romping … as you will know, darling … or, of course, we can always go down to the lake. I simply love sex in the water, don’t you Sue?”
“Just go, Delia …,” repeated Philip tiredly, uncomfortably aware how embarrassed he was by Delia’s revelations in front of Sue. It all sounded so sordid and he didn’t want Sue to think of him in that way. What they had was too beautiful to besmirch with Delia’s insinuations.
“Face it, Delia, we’re finished,” he continued. “Go home and leave us in peace. I told you there will be no wedding and I mean it. I’m so very sorry but it’s over. I am with Sue now and that’s how it’s going to remain.”
As stinging as his words were, Delia moved towards him and put out a hand to touch his face.
“I love you, Philip. I always have and I always will. There’ll never be anyone else for me … never … and once you’ve got over this madness. you’ll realise how much you need me.”
“No!”
“Oh yes, Philip. Yes, yes, yes and this silly little bitch,” she waved a finger under Sue’s nose, “will be utterly forgotten … just a passing whim ….”
Philip finally lost his temper, grabbing hold of Delia’s arm and hauling her out of the kitchen and into the hall. “Get out of my house, Delia. You’ve gone too far. We are finished. Do you hear me? Finished!”
Philip’s hard grip on her arm was hurting dreadfully but it wasn’t that that made her cry. She suddenly felt utterly defeated and the tears poured relentlessly down her face. “You don’t mean it, Philip. Please say you don’t. I love you. I really do. You’ll never know how much. I can’t go on without you … please, Philip. Don’t do this. I can’t bear it.”
Philip pushed her out of the front door, let go of her and stood, barring her way back into the house while his anger dissipated.
“I’m so sorry, Delly. We’ve been through a lot together and I’m extremely fond of you. I thought I loved you but now I know it couldn’t have been that … and yes, the sex was good but it was more for your benefit than mine. It was you making the demands and I can see now that it was only pure lust on my part. Not real love.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course it was … it is,” Delia cried. “We are made for each other. We have plans … ambitions … Canleigh.”
“Oh, yes, bloody Canleigh. You care more about that place than anything … apart from Demon, I suppose. You love that damned horse more than any human being.”
Delia gulped, knowing he was probably right. Demon was tremendously important to her … him, Canleigh and Philip. Life wouldn’t be worth living if she
couldn’t have them all.
“Now, go home, Delia. Please. There’s nothing left for you here. I really do love Sue and eventually I am going to marry her. Not yet, obviously. It’s too soon but it will happen. Believe me.”
Delia gasped in dismay. “You can’t … you can’t … you’re marrying me in two weeks’ time. You have to.”
“Delia. Please. Go home and cancel everything. If you don’t, I will. The wedding is not going to take place. It’s off, is that clear?”
Delia was shocked to the core as she stared at the determined expression on his face. He really did mean it. She put up her left hand to wipe the tears away and the coldness of her engagement ring against her skin repelled her. She ripped it off her finger and waved it under his nose.
“You gave me this,” she said angrily. “You have an obligation. You have to marry me. You have to.”
Philip looked at her with pity but there was none in his voice. “I’m so sorry it had to end this way, Delia, but it has. Now, please. Go home and don’t come back again,” he said firmly, stepping back into the hall and shutting the solid oak door in Delia’s face.
CHAPTER 16
YORKSHIRE – JUNE 1972
Ruth woke at exactly seven o’clock, refreshed and looking forward to the evening ahead now Hardy had reassured her that meeting the Duke wouldn’t be the alarming experience she envisaged. She enjoyed a long, relaxing soak in the pristine white bath in her bathroom with its gold taps, black and white floor tiles, and thick, luxurious white bath sheets. She then sat at the dressing table in her dressing gown and applied her makeup; just a light touch of porcelain foundation, azure eye shadow, brown mascara, far less harsh than black, and a rose-pink lipstick. For her first dinner in such a grand setting, she selected a simple blue silk dress. It set off her fair hair and brought out the blue flecks in her eyes to great advantage. The addition of delicate diamond earrings and necklace, a twenty-first birthday present from her parents, completed the picture.
Just slipping into her new pale blue sling-back shoes, which matched her dress perfectly but weren’t too comfortable, she was startled by a knock on the door and guessing it must be Richard, took a nervous glance in the mirror.
“You look fine, Ruth Barrett,” she reassured herself under her breath. “Absolutely fine … and you will be fine. There’s no need to feel intimidated by these people. They are just humans … like yourself. They won’t bite.”
An image of Lady Delia flashed through her head. “On the other hand ….”
There was another knock on the door and Ruth crossed the room and opened it. A beaming Richard, debonair in a black dinner jacket, a row of black braid down the outside of the trouser legs, a white pique fronted shirt, black silk tie and black waistcoat, stood on the threshold.
“Hi. Ready for the grand tour before dinner?”
Ruth smiled brightly. “Of course. I’m really looking forward to this.”
Richard’s beam turned to a look of bemusement. “Father arrived home just after we did. I’ve just been talking to him and I can’t believe what he’s just told me. The wedding is off.”
“What? You mean Delia … and …?”
“Philip. Yes. It’s incredible. They’ve been inseparable since we were all small. It always seemed so right that they end of up together. I can’t quite get my head around it.”
“What happened?” asked Ruth, shutting the bedroom door behind her and stepping into the corridor to join him.
“We don’t really know. Delia hasn’t said a word to anyone. Philip rang Father about an hour ago, told him there would be no wedding but didn’t say why. Just mentioned he was worried about how Delia was taking it.”
Ruth looked at Richard in dismay. “Oh, poor Delia. How awful for her.”
“I know. I’ve been trying to find her but she’s nowhere to be seen. She wanted to talk to me, didn’t she? Perhaps she was going to tell me. Poor old thing. I feel so sorry for her.”
“That probably explains the frosty reception we received. She must be feeling dreadful … and having guests when feeling so low can’t help.”
“Um. I hope such a crushing blow doesn’t tip her over the edge again … she was ill for quite a long time after Mother left and Granny died. It was Philip and his grandparents who gave her the most support then … goodness knows who she’ll turn to now ... we’re only here for the weekend and Father probably didn’t plan to stay long after the wedding and no doubt now that’s it off he’ll head back to Blairness as fast as he can. Although I can’t imagine Delia would want to pour out her heart to him. They’ve had a most uneasy relationship for years and have never really hit it off. Vicky’s his favourite,” he added, with a wry smile.
“Do I detect a note of jealousy,” Ruth teased.
Richard laughed. “No. Not at all. You know how lovely Vicky is. No-one could fail to like her. She’s delightful … and one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I have ever met … excluding yourself, of course, Miss Barrett.”
Ruth smiled as Richard guided her down the corridor and onto the landing.
“I’ve just seen Vicky actually, racing down the corridor to get ready for dinner.” He grimaced. “With the wonderful Barrie in tow … his train was late getting into Leeds … some hold up on the line.”
“What’s he like?” asked Ruth, knowing how much Richard worried about his younger sister and anyone who might have any influence on her.
Richard looked at her thoughtfully and then scowled. “Not my cup of tea, I’m afraid. I hope she’s not going to hang onto him for long. I don’t think he is going to prove a good bet somehow … and by the way, Miss Barrett,” he smiled with appreciation, eyeing her up and down, “You look simply stunning and that dress is perfect. You’re going to dazzle the family this evening, that’s for sure. Come on. Let me show you round some of the ancestral pile before dinner. Knowing how interested you are in art, I have no doubt you’ll appreciate our vast collection.”
They moved down the grand central staircase, bathed in warm evening sun from the massive domed skylight above and on reaching the entrance hall
Richard stopped and turned to her.
“Just to prepare you for the tour, all the ceilings and fireplaces are by Robert Adam.”
“Ah, yes,” murmured Ruth, “the famous Scottish architect. I have always admired his work,” looking above her head at the intricately designed ceiling with ornate plasterwork.
“And apart from the amazing chandelier in the Italian room, all the rest are Waterford crystal.”
“How wonderful,” Ruth exclaimed. Not having had the honour of a personal tour of a grand stately home before, she was really beginning to enjoy herself.
“Now, I’ll just explain the layout of the house,” continued Richard, warming to his theme, as they stood facing the front door. “If we go through the door on our left, we enter the west wing, which I will show you tomorrow. The east wing, where we are going now, is through the door on our right. Firstly, we enter the green drawing room, followed by the Italian room and the gold drawing room. Then there is the ballroom, the turquoise drawing room, the dining room and music room and finally the library, which is directly behind where we are now standing and is where we all tend to congregate and where Father uses as his study.
“And that’s just the east wing,” stated Ruth incredulously.
Richard nodded and grinned. “Now, follow me and I’ll take you on a clockwise tour which will bring us back into the library.” He looked at his watch, “at just about the right time for pre-dinner drinks.”
He strode across the entrance hall to the door to the right of the front door and opened it, standing aside to allow Ruth to enter the green drawing room.
“This was mainly used by the gentleman in times gone by so they could smoke in peace well away from the ladies, who tended to congregate in the turquoise drawing room on the other side of the ballroom.
Ruth liked the green drawing room very much. It was cosy, with large
, comfy looking brown leather sofas positioned near to the marble fireplace. There was a tall, loudly ticking, long case clock in one corner and Chippendale occasional tables were dotted around the room on which stood vases of freshly cut white chrysanthemums and photographs of the family.
“Is this …?” asked Ruth, studying a picture in a gold frame of an attractive older man with features similar to Richard’s.
“Yes. It’s Father. Taken just before Mother left us. I don’t like it much. He looks strained … tense. He’s quite different now … much more relaxed these days now he spends so much time in Scotland … you’ll see when you meet him.”
Ruth looked again at the photograph, liking what she saw. Although the Duke did show signs of tension, he was … solid looking . . . a reliable kind of man, the sort of person to turn to in a crisis and who would do all he could to help. She remembered Hardy’s assurances. The butler must be right. According to what Richard had told her, Hardy had worked closely with the Duke for many years and would know him extremely well.
Ruth had a quick look at the remainder of the photographs. A very young Delia was astride a Shetland pony with a serious expression on her face; there was another of her as a teenager holding the reins of a white pony and in the third, she was an adult, sitting on a dark horse with flaring nostrils. In all three Delia had a haughty, ‘don’t mess with me’ air about her, which, for some reason made Ruth feel inadequate and insecure.
There were also photographs of Richard as a child. He wore black-framed glasses, giving him a somewhat studious appearance. He had told Ruth how as a teenager he had researched contact lenses and eventually managed to persuade his father to allow him to be fitted for a pair before his graduation day. The resulting photograph of a smiling Richard, proudly holding his degree, was a quite different looking young man.
“God, I hated those glasses,” he said, following Ruth’s gaze. “You don’t know what a relief it was to be able to wear contacts, although I do wear glasses at the flat in the evenings … but they have nice gold frames now,” he grinned.
Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) Page 26