Following closely behind Vicky was a confident looking young man who obviously loved himself. He was an inch or two shorter than Richard and Charles and possessed wiry fair hair with a reddish tint, cold blue eyes, a longish face and thin lips. Ruth inwardly shuddered and could understand why Richard didn’t like him. As good looking and charming as he was, there was something cold and calculating about the man; the way his eyes darted about the room when he thought nobody was looking, not studying the furniture and artefacts with genuine interest but as if he was trying to weigh up what everything was worth. And he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet, she thought. It was wrong to jump to conclusions. He’s probably very nice really … he must be if Vicky thinks so. She wondered what Charles would make of him.
“And you must be Barrie … I’ve heard a lot about you, young man. Welcome to Canleigh,” said Charles, extending an arm to shake Barrie’s hand while keeping the other firmly around Vicky’s shoulders.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” answered Barrie, smiling charmingly at his host and grasping his hand firmly.
“I believe you’ve met my son, Richard ….”
Barrie nodded in Richard’s direction. Richard nodded back.
“And this is my eldest daughter, Delia.”
Delia coolly looked Barrie up and down as if he was a horse she was about to purchase, although Ruth was shocked to see Delia lick her lips suggestively. Barrie’s eyes widened and his smile grew wider. The instant chemistry between them could have ignited the room but if Vicky was aware of it, she hid her feelings well.
“Charmed, I’m sure, Lady Delia,” Barrie drooled, reaching for Delia’s hand and made an exaggerated, flowery attempt at kissing it, not taking his eyes from her face. Delia’s hard expression softened and a slight smile played on her lips.
“Isn’t he just delightful?” laughed Vicky nervously, trying to dispel the strange tension which had sprung up between all the occupants of the room.
Charles obviously didn’t share Vicky’s view, Ruth thought, watching his mouth tighten into a hard line. He withdrew his arm from Vicky’s shoulders and moved across the room to steer Barrie away from Delia and towards herself.
“And this is Richard’s friend from Oxford, Ruth Barrett.”
Barrie’s false smile never faltered as he turned to Ruth and made a play of kissing her hand too. Ruth couldn’t understand why Vicky was smitten. There was something … something … but she couldn’t put her finger on it, not very nice about him and Ruth had an overwhelming impulse to pull her hand away from his and wipe away his kiss. She was glad when Vicky took a drink from Hardy and sat beside her on the sofa, Barrie moving towards Delia and Richard by the window.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Ruth,” remarked Vicky, holding the glass in her hand tightly while she watched Barrie out of the corner of her eye. She idolised him but had guessed how he would react when meeting Delia. She was a very attractive woman … and now a free one, according to Richard, who had told her the news when they had bumped into each other in the upstairs corridor earlier. Vicky felt a niggle of fear and wished circumstances were different, that the wedding hadn’t been cancelled and Philip was dining with them. Delia was playing up to Barrie, who had moved back across the room to where she lounged against Charles’ desk, laughing and hanging on to Barrie’s every word, smiling at him under her lashes and standing too close. It was almost unseemly and embarrassing for everyone in the room, especially Vicky.
Vicky turned to Ruth and tried hard to concentrate on a conversation with her. She had liked Ruth from the moment they met in Oxford a few months ago and hoped she would marry Richard one day. It would be lovely to have her as a sister-in-law. She was kind, open, and honest and Vicky thought they could be real friends when they had more time to spend together.
Ruth liked Vicky too. The younger girl was gay and funny and made no secret of the fact that she liked a drink, twice signalling to Hardy to top up her sherry, expertly ignoring Charles’s disapproving looks.
“So, Ruth, now that you have had a tour of the house, what do you think of it?” Vicky asked.
“Stunning,” remarked Ruth, smiling up at Charles, who smiled back. “Absolutely stunning.”
“I love coming home,” continued Vicky, “it’s so relaxing after the mad social whirl in Oxford … it’s pretty hard trying to party … and study … all in all, its jolly hectic, isn’t it, Barrie?” she bubbled desperately, trying to resist the urge to rush across the room and haul him away from Delia.
“Yes, I suppose it I.” Barrie answered Vicky absentmindedly, not even glancing in her direction.
The atmosphere in the room grew more awkward, relieved suddenly by Hardy banging the brass gong in the corner of the room. “Dinner is served,” he stated loudly.
Ruth resisted the urge to giggle again as Charles moved towards her, took her arm and guided her into the dining room. “I’m sure Richard won’t mind me taking you into dinner,” he said quietly, “and I’m going to make no secret of the fact I’m going to monopolise you … you’re seated next to me and I want you to tell me all about yourself.”
Charles walked Ruth to the table and pulled out a chair for her. His place was at the head of the table, she and Richard were on his immediate right, Vicky and Barrie on his left and Delia took her usual seat opposite Charles at the far end.
Ruth glanced around her with interest as they hadn’t spent much time in this room when on the tour. The plain walls and ceiling were painted ivory; the carpet and chair coverings were a deep burgundy. Portraits of former Dukes and Duchesses of Canleigh hung on the walls. The Chippendale table was laid beautifully, decked with rose bowls containing dark red roses from the garden, solid silver cutlery and sparkling glasses. The candles, flickering softly in the two Georgian candelabras created a subtle, intimate atmosphere.
The first course Hardy served was a delicious gazpacho and Ruth wondered if she could have a quick word with him later to see if he could obtain the recipe for her. Two glasses of red Bordeaux wine later and enjoying the succulent roast beef and vegetables which melted in the mouth, Ruth was relaxed and perfectly at ease with Charles on one side of her and Richard on the other, both keeping the conversation light and interesting with snippets relating to the history of Canleigh and its former occupants.
Vicky and Barrie were relatively quiet, Vicky still jumpy with Barrie sitting next to Delia, who hardly said a word or ate anything, playing with her elegant wine glass and nodding to Hardy to refill it frequently. Vicky wasn’t keen on wine, as good as it was, and as the sherry had sent her a bit squiffy, decided to stick to water for now.
“I hope you don’t find the menu too boring,” remarked Charles to Ruth. “I have a passion for plain old- fashioned English cooking and tend to forget others might like something a bit different.”
“Not at all,” replied Ruth. “It’s delicious,” meaning every word. The beef was beautifully tender, the Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes light and fluffy and the carrots and green beans succulent and full of flavour.
“Carnivores,” uttered Vicky, playing with a green salad and cheese soufflé.
“Behave,” warned Charles with a smile. “In case you didn’t know, Ruth, Vicky is a vegetarian … and does like to make her feelings on the subject quite plain. I’m surprised she hasn’t turned you into one, Barrie.”
Barrie grinned. “No chance, Your Grace.”
“You can’t say I haven’t tried though,” said Vicky.
“I’ve often toyed with the idea,” supported Ruth.
“On no,” said Charles with mock horror. “Not another one.”
Ruth laughed. “Don’t worry. I don’t think it’s possible really. Sorry, Vicky, but I do like meat. Although I like animals too and hate to think of them suffering just so we can eat.”
“I’ll see if I can persuade you properly later, Ruth. I’ve some leaflets in my room. Once you’ve seen some of them, I’m sure you’ll be converted,” said Vicky enthusiastic
ally, glad to have someone teetering on her side for a change.
“Do you ride, Ruth?” asked Delia suddenly from the far end of the table, her eyes flashing a challenge.
Shocked that Delia had actually spoken to her, Ruth’s reply was hesitant. “A little. Although I’m not very good.”
“Actually, we’re going out for a hack in the morning … I’ll be able to show Ruth the estate far better on horseback,” offered Richard.
“So, you’re not averse to horses. What other animals do you like?” asked Charles, jumping in before Delia could make any caustic remarks. She had no patience with anyone who wasn’t into horses and didn’t ride superbly.
“Dogs,” said Ruth without hesitation. She continued forlornly. “I’ve always wanted one but my parents … well, they’re both practising G.P’s and haven’t the time . . . and, of course, I’m at medical school so can’t have one at the moment.”
“Yes,” said Charles. “They are my favourites.” He looked into the distance sadly. “I grew up with several but my last two labradors died a few years ago and for some reason I have never got another. Perhaps it’s time I thought about it.”
“Mummy disliked dogs,” stated Vicky. “She was always complaining about the dog hairs when Granny brought her three here. She insisted they come no further into the house than the library. Granny used to get so cross.”
The Canleigh family fell silent, remembering Margaret and Anne and what had occurred on that last fateful day. It was rare the episode was mentioned as it was painful to them all and no-one wanted to upset Delia after all she had gone through at the time. Delia's face looked taut. She gripped her glass of wine tightly, and almost threw the contents down her throat.
Charles hastily turned to Ruth. “Do I take it you are an only child, Ruth? I haven’t heard you mention any
brothers or sisters.”
“Yes, I am. It would have been nice to have someone to play with but unfortunately siblings never arrived.”
Charles patted her hand. “It was the same for me … we have a lot in common, you and I.”
They exchanged a warm smile and Richard frowned, cleared his plate and placed his knife and fork together. The undercurrents at the table were beginning to get to him. Delia was flirting openly with Barrie, with Vicky showing signs of becoming extremely uncomfortable, and his father was monopolising Ruth. Dinner couldn’t be over soon enough. No doubt his father would be tired after travelling down from Scotland and would retire early. Then he could have Ruth all to himself again. He’d walk her down to the lake. It was stunning at sunset. The very idea cheered him up.
Delia signalled to Hardy to re-fill her wine glass. Even though she had gained a little pleasure out of teasing Barrie, she was bored and unhappy and thoroughly fed up with listening to that simpering miss beside Father. He and Richard seemed to think Ruth was fascinating, both fawning over her at every opportunity as if it was some sort of competition. Her thoughts drifted frequently to Philip. Still smarting from his brutal rejection of her earlier that afternoon, she wondered if that Sue woman was still with him and what they were doing. The knife-like pain shot through her heart yet again. She drank her wine quickly and looked around the table at the family and their guests. It was strange no-one had asked her where Philip was as he should have been here dining with them this evening, as that was the whole reason for getting them all together this weekend. Perhaps they were all so wrapped up in their own lives that they hadn’t given it a thought, especially as there were only six places laid at the table, Delia having told Hardy earlier that Philip was unable to join them. Unaware of Philip’s telephone call to her father, she knew she was going to have to tell them the wedding wasn’t going to take place. There were all the arrangements to cancel and the guests to inform. Delia groaned inwardly. The loss and humiliation were torture and she didn’t know how she was going to bear it. How could Philip do this to her? She loved him. She was positive that whatever he said he still loved her. There was still two weeks to go. Perhaps if she left everything as it was, there was still time for him to realise what a dreadful mistake he was making and come back to her. Of course he would. They had been together for such a long time. Knew each other inside out … at least she had thought they did. She quickly dismissed the niggle of doubt creeping in. No. It was totally unthinkable that they wouldn’t get married. She would ring him later, apologise for this afternoon and everything would get back to normal. She was just being silly.
A cough on her right made her glance at Barrie. Vicky had certainly picked a dish here but if the silly girl thought he was marriage material she was in for a nasty shock. One word from her and Delia was quite positive he would be in her bed in a flash, no thought for the effect on Vicky. Delia didn’t like him much. He was too smooth, too charming, too ready with his flashing smiles and even though he might put up a good show of affection for Vicky, if his main reason for being with her wasn’t what he could gain from her status and wealth, Delia would be most surprised. However, the man oozed sex appeal and it had been fun flirting with him. It was nice to feel that another man found her attractive, especially after what Philip was putting her through. The tearing pain of him thrusting her out of his life so brutally made her turn to Barrie again and smile. His attentions helped dull the pain. It was something to cling on to and she didn’t care a fig if it upset Vicky or annoyed her father. It was survival.
Hardy removed the plates as the main course was finished, although Ruth couldn’t help noticing that Delia had hardly touched hers, seemingly more interested in flirting openly with Barrie, fluttering her eyelashes, smiling coquettishly, touching his hand whenever possible. To be fair Barrie did little to encourage it but then did nothing to discourage it either and Ruth had a funny feeling that if Delia and Barrie were alone, he would have no hesitation in exploiting the situation to the full. There was no doubt he was a real one for the ladies and Ruth feared for Vicky if she had any serious intentions of becoming further involved with him.
Hardy served the pudding. Pears in red wine accompanied by whipped cream brought an “ooh” of appreciation out of Vicky. “Oh, Daddy, darling. My favourite. Thank you.”
“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you enjoying your food again,” said Charles.
Highly annoyed with Delia’s stupid schoolgirl behaviour towards Barrie, Charles looked across at him. “And what do you intend to do with yourself, my boy, when you graduate?”
Barrie turned his full attention to Charles. “My dream job would be to run a nightclub, Your Grace.”
Charles raised an eyebrow. “A nightclub? Surely, if you want to get into the hospitality sector, wouldn’t hotels be a better bet … the more prestigious the better.”
“That’s all very well, Daddy, darling,” interrupted Vicky, “but the real money these days is in the clubs … the more prestigious the better,” she repeated with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Don’t tell me that’s what you want to do as well,” said Charles, quite aghast at the idea of his favourite daughter becoming a nightclub hostess.
“Well, yes, actually.”
Charles opened his mouth to protest but Vicky was too quick for him. “Daddy, just listen. We, that is Barrie and me …and Alex … Alex is in our group too and is the real brains behind it all … you’d like him, Daddy, you really would. He’s got some brilliant ideas. Anyway, we’ve all been having a good look around London in some of the up and coming parts of the city … there are some fabulous old buildings that need some doing up. If we could get hold of one of those and turn it into something special … with a theme … you know Arabian nights or something ….”
Charles raised the other eyebrow. Delia snorted with derision. Richard looked stupefied and Ruth intrigued. Barrie concentrated on his pudding.
Vicky took no notice and continued enthusiastically. “Between us we have the necessary skills and expertise to make it work. Alex is the brains, Barrie has the charm, perfect for fronting it all and
I know all the right people … really Daddy. I don’t see how it can go wrong.”
“That’s all very well but exactly where do you plan to get the money to finance such a project,” asked Charles, still trying to get his head round this latest turn of events.
Vicky smiled at Charles sweetly. “Well … we thought perhaps you might like to invest . . . ”
“Oh, you did, did you? I think we’ll see about that when the time comes. You still have a year to go before you graduate. Then we’ll see.”
Vicky threw a look of triumph at Barrie. She knew her father could deny her very little and had high hopes of him coming up trumps when the time was right.
“And what do your parents think of this possible venture, Barrie?” asked Charles.
“Very little, actually, Your Grace. I haven’t mentioned it to them as yet.”
“I see,” murmured Charles, finishing his pudding and glancing quickly at Delia. She was beginning to show signs of having drunk too much. Her eyes were glinting dangerously and there was a definite lean towards Barrie. He knew he had to talk to her in private about the split with Philip but didn’t know if he could cope with any highly charged emotional issues at the moment. He was tired after a hectic day travelling back to England but not only that was enjoying Ruth’s company more than he could imagine and didn’t want to dispel the sense of wellbeing she was invoking in him. Delia could wait until the morning, although he hoped she wasn’t going to upset Vicky in the meantime. She either hadn’t or didn’t want to notice Delia’s covert flirtatiousness with Barrie as she had been concentrating on talking to Ruth and himself but if Delia continued in the same vein after dinner there would no doubt be hell to pay. Charles sighed inwardly. He had been really looking forward to returning to Canleigh to enjoy a happy occasion but instead there were going to be more scenes and tantrums. He just knew it.
Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) Page 28