Perkins shook his head as the pair charged out of the entrance and disappeared. “That there horse is a real problem and no mistake. I can’t do anything with it. He creates sheer murder in here and bothers the others when out in the fields … and jumps out frequently, cantering up here looking for Lady Delia. Yes, it’s a real problem,” he repeated, removed his cap and scratched his head.
He opened the door of the loose box nearest to them. “Now, Miss. His Lordship tells me that you are a bit nervous but you needn’t be with this one. You’ll really like our Dolly. He stroked the elderly mare fondly and she pushed her nose into his hand, looking for the piece of carrot which was always there.
Perkins had been busy that morning. Richard had popped down to the stables the evening before and told him that they would be riding this morning so Perkins had driven up to Tangles and asked Philip if he could borrow Verity for the day so Richard could be mounted. Star was still at Canleigh but far too small for Richard to ride. Philip had been more than happy to oblige so Perkins had ridden Verity back to Canleigh and saddled up Dolly so that both horses were ready and waiting for Richard and Ruth. Perkins helped Ruth mount. Richard jumped onto Verity with ease and they set off, Ruth relieved to see there was no sign of Delia and Demon in the immediate vicinity as they emerged from the stable block.
It was another beautiful morning and Ruth enjoyed Dolly’s plodding rhythm as they ambled slowly along the country lanes bordering the vast acreage of the Canleigh estate. They rode for three hours, Richard politely pointing out anything which Ruth might find of interest. Lastly, they circled the lake and then made their way up to the south gates to admire the view of Canleigh Hall which Delia loved so much. Ruth was quite exhausted by the time the old copper beech tree came into view and even then, Richard informed her that they had only seen only a small portion of the land the family owned. Ruth was amazed, sitting on Dolly and staring with awe at the view. The fields stretched out for miles, bordered by large areas of woodland. Sheep and cows, owned by tenant farmers, grazed lazily in the sun. It was certainly impressive; there was no doubt about that.
“How can you bear to live so far away, Richard? Why on earth do you want to dig yourself an early grave with the pressures you’re always under at the hospital when you could be here … in all this fantastic countryside … with no real stress, no hassle, no long endless nights on duty ….”
Richard looked at her thoughtfully. “Oh, I’ve plans, Ruth … and they do include moving back here … although not for a while.”
“Oh?” said Ruth, waiting for him to expand.
Richard pushed Verity on towards the village, riding on the wide grass verge as they reached the main road.
“Yes. Changes are afoot. Father is in Scotland most of the year now and Dick, our estate manager, is about to retire. A new one will have to be employed and it’s about time I began to take more interest. Father and I have been in contact quite a bit recently and had some serious discussions about the future of the estate and I suppose now that Delia is going to remain at Canleigh instead of moving to Tangles, she will have to be informed too,” he said glumly.
At Ruth’s questioning gaze Richard explained how Delia had always wanted the estate.
“She bullied me relentlessly when we were children,” he laughed but without merriment. “She made my life hell to be honest, once we were old enough to understand it was me who would inherit and not her, because although she was first born, she wasn’t male. Boy, could she scream … and did she. The tantrums were horrendous. The scenes she caused. You wouldn’t believe the temper she has.”
Ruth could. Oh, yes, she really could. Last night’s little display had been a testimony to that.
“Anyhow,” Richard carried on. “I wasn’t that wrapped up in Canleigh then … old age has made me appreciate my heritage more,” he grinned.
“Old … at twenty-one,” she giggled.
Richard smiled back and continued to explain, remembering that day in the stables with clarity. “So, to put an end to all the hassle I drew up a document, which I signed, indicating that when Canleigh did become mine I would give it to Delia.”
“What?” breathed Ruth. “How old were you for goodness sake?”
Richard grimaced. “Thirteen. Having endured at least ten years of my sister’s constant ear bashing it was a huge relief to get her off my back, believe me. She was thrilled and never mentioned it again and our relationship improved dramatically after that.” He frowned. “But for some stupid reason, I feel uneasy again. If she had married Philip, she would have been safely installed at Tangles with the business there to occupy her … and probably children … and wouldn’t have been far away from Canleigh but now … I just don’t know what she will do. She knows full well she can stay here of course … it’s her home when all is said and done … but knowing Philip is so near … and with another woman. It’s going to send her crazy. She’s been besotted with him since we were all children. Everything she does is focused on him and their future together. I can tell you, Ruth. I’m really worried for her.”
“She’s young and very attractive,” Ruth commented, shifting in the saddle. She was beginning to feel quite sore and was longing to dismount and have a rest. It had been an enjoyable ride but a much longer one than anticipated. Canleigh was a huge estate to ride around. “Perhaps it won’t be long before she meets someone else.”
Richard shook his head. “Philip is the only man Delia has been interested in. She’s not one for gadding about, unlike our Victoria. More than once that young lady has been in hot water and I’ve had to be the one to bail her out. Were you aware she was arrested as soon as she arrived in Oxford?”
“What!” laughed Ruth incredulously? “You must be joking. Whatever for?”
“It’s true. She was drunk, had an argument with a policeman in the High Street and ended up tipping a bottle of champagne into his helmet. He was not amused.”
“Oh dear,” Ruth laughed again, trying to visualise it. “So how did you become involved?”
“I was summoned to the police station and had to vouch for her character. Apparently, she begged them to call me after they threatened to lock her up for the night for being drunk and disorderly … but they kindly allowed her to leave with me. It wasn’t long after that we realised she had anorexia.”
“She seems to have recovered well.”
Richard nodded. “I think we managed to get to it before it got too severe … and she had the best care at the Oxford clinic … and I hate to admit it but the wonderful Barrie has had something to do with it. What do you think of him?”
“Not a lot. I don’t think he’ll make her very happy in the long run.”
“No. Nor do I.”
Richard pointed to the houses appearing on the horizon. “Here’s the village. You’ll be able to appreciate it far more on horseback than in a car.”
Ruth looked around with admiration as they entered the village. The pretty Georgian terraced cottages, built in orderly rows along the roadside were covered in rambling roses or wisteria. Tiny gardens were neatly laid out with an abundance of flowering plants in full bloom, creating a picture of peace and tranquillity. The two main gathering points were the shop, which also served as a post office and further along, the Canleigh Arms, decorated with ornate window boxes and hanging baskets filled with white and crimson geraniums.
On reaching the forecourt of the public house Ruth dismounted with difficulty, her limbs not wanting to do as she asked, wobbly and slow to move.
“Oh dear. Perhaps we’ve overdone it a bit on the exercise front,” Richard remarked sympathetically, taking the horses to the grassy patch in the shade at the rear of the car park and tying their reins to the railing. Ruth noticed a water trough filled with clean water was also within their reach.
“All patrons catering for here,” laughed Richard. “Come on old thing,” he said, taking her arm firmly, “Let’s go and rest your body for a while. The food here is really good so w
e can have a nice leisurely lunch … and then you can go back to the Hall for a rest.”
Ruth looked up at him with mock relief. “You mean no more physical exertion for the rest of the day? I don’t believe it.”
“No, Ruth. I promise. Nothing more taxing than dressing for dinner this evening.”
The manager of the Canleigh Arms, Dan Clifford, a charming personable man in his early thirties with dark brown hair and a swarthy complexion, shook Richard’s hand and smiled warmly at Ruth when they entered the bar. He took their order and Richard guided Ruth through groups of people to a corner table, introducing her along the way to one or two with whom he was particularly friendly and nodding to others. Ruth was amused, hearing him referred to as Lord Richard or Milord. It had seemed right in the setting of Canleigh and from Hardy but here, in a normal everyday environment, it sounded overly formal and quite strange.
There were two tables free, one in the middle of the room and one at the far end. Richard chose the latter. It offered a clear view of the public area and Ruth looked around with interest. Without the paraphernalia of public house fixtures and fittings, the room was a replica of the turquoise drawing room at Canleigh Hall, both in size and décor. A massive crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, the paintings were clever imitations and the furniture was reproduction Chippendale. The walls were covered in wallpaper resembling turquoise silk and the seats covered with turquoise dralon instead of velvet.
Richard watched her studying the interior. “We still own the pub and Dan is our tenant. That’s why it looks like it does. Clever isn’t it?”
Ruth nodded, never before having seen such a luxurious and imposing village pub.
Their lunch, consisting of a cold turkey salad and jacket potato, followed by a chocolate and orange gateau with whipped cream, washed down with a bottle of French Chardonnay, was delicious and Ruth tucked in readily, the fresh country air and all the exercise that morning having made her ravenously
hungry. However, her enjoyment was short lived.
Without any warning, the entrance door was flung open and Delia strode in like a creature from hell; long hair in disarray and her facial expression, grim and
severe. She demanded a gin and tonic from Dan and seeing Ruth and Richard strode over to them, ignoring the odd greeting from diners. Being locals they all knew who she was. They had either watched her grow up or grown up with her and were hugely saddened to hear the much looked forward to wedding wasn’t going ahead as the whole village had been invited to the shindig in the evening. Philip, having told Charles, had mentioned the wedding was cancelled to one of his grooms and the news had spread around the village like wildfire. So everyone naturally expected Delia to be depressed and upset and were flabbergasted to see her with a look of sheer fury on her face, especially as it was directed at her brother and his female companion.
“Oh no,” groaned Richard, resting his head on his hand and screwing up his eyes as if he were in pain. “Please God, not another scene … and certainly not in here.”
Ruth contained the compulsion to flee to the toilet and hide but kept her seat, trying to still the beating of her heart. Why did Delia have this dreadful effect on her?
“Still here then?” remarked Delia, throwing a look of contempt at Ruth.
Not waiting for an answer and to still the look of puzzlement on Richard’s face, she tossed herself down next to him, slipped her arm possessively through his and proceeded to talk at length about people Ruth could not possibly know in an effort to freeze her out and make her feel insignificant.
It worked. Delia’s behaviour was lamentable and downright rude and Ruth became increasingly awkward and self-conscious as Richard fidgeted, removed Delia’s arm from his and threw Ruth apologetic glances. The villagers and Dan talked quietly amongst themselves while surreptitiously keeping an eye on proceedings.
“Have you thought about having a holiday,” asked Richard desperately, red with annoyance by his twin’s loquaciousness which was excluding Ruth. “It might do you good ... to get away from here for a while. Go and see some friends. Think about something other than this place and all the people in it … or come down to Oxford for a while …Ruth and I can take you out and about for a bit ….”
“Why the hell should I want a holiday. Philip and I are off to the Seychelles after the wedding.”
Ruth and Richard, their eyes widening with surprise, stared at each other.
“But the wedding … Father told me it’s off. Philip rang him,” Richard murmured so no-one apart from the three of them could hear.
Delia threw her head back defiantly. “He’s just having a stupid wobbly. He’ll see sense,” she said, her voice brittle and full of pain.
“Philip wouldn’t have cancelled at the last minute unless it was for a very good reason. We both know him very well. He’s not fickle and once he makes his mind up about something, he usually sticks to it.”
“Pity he didn’t stick to our engagement and wedding plans then,” Delia hissed, twirling her engagement ring round and round her finger.
“Delia, if it’s off, it’s off … and you need to get away from here. Please, consider coming down and staying with us. My flat’s not much but we can get you a room at the Randolph and we can all spend as much time together as we can.”
“That’s a lovely idea. If there is anything I can do …,” Ruth jumped in, heartily wishing she had kept quiet immediately afterwards. Her skin crawled and she could feel herself blush as Delia looked at her scornfully.
“What the devil do you think you can do? What a bloody stupid thing to say!”
“I was only trying to be …,” Ruth said, painfully aware that now their voices were rising, everyone in the room could hear their altercation and were listening almost gleefully, hoping for a real corker of a row which could be talked about for months to come.
“Well, don’t bother,” snapped Delia, standing up abruptly. “I’m not going anywhere. I belong at Canleigh and I am staying at Canleigh and Philip will change his mind and we will get married. So, I don’t need your sympathy, Miss Barrett. Just go back to Oxford and leave us alone. You are not wanted here!”
“Delia!” exclaimed Richard furiously, putting out a hand to pull his sister back into the seat and calm her down. She shrugged him off.
“Get lost,” she snapped, striding towards the door, customers moving quickly out of her path. They all knew she had a temper having witnessed displays in the past and didn’t want any of her venom to land on them for being in her way. The door banged shut and after a short, embarrassed silence, everyone started talking at once.
Not knowing what to say, Ruth twiddled nervously with the fork on her plate, stunned and shaken for the second time in twenty-four hours. Richard looked positively thunderous and spoke through gritted teeth.
“She’s gone too far,” he seethed. “How dare she publicly humiliate us and to talk to you in such a manner is completely unforgivable. I can’t apologise enough, Ruth. If I had thought for one moment you would be treated in such a despicable way, I would never have invited you to Canleigh. I know Delia is hurting badly but there is absolutely no excuse for her behaviour. I am so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Richard. Can we … can we please just go,” muttered Ruth. The atmosphere in the room was mortifying and Ruth hated being the object of so much interest. Richard couldn’t wait to leave either and they finished their coffee quickly. Richard paid the bill and they went outside to collect the horses, now restless and eager to be off. Delia had tied Demon to the railings when arriving at the pub and they had been disturbed by his impatient prancing and whinnying.
They rode back to the stables in silence, their earlier care-free mood having evaporated. Richard had never been so angry and Ruth, with the warmth of the day, the unusual amount of exercise, the generous lunch and the wine, was becoming sleepy and in need of a long nap in her gorgeously comfortable bed. Demon’s stall was still empty, indicating Delia was still ou
t and about but Ruth couldn’t help noticing the severely damaged steel plate on the open door. She shivered. What would happen if the horse managed to get out when he was enraged? Perkins was obviously concerned about him and he knew what he was talking about where horses were concerned but even she could see, with so little experience of the creatures, how it wouldn’t be a great experience to be too close to Demon when he was being difficult and angry. It was too dreadful to contemplate and Ruth didn’t feel secure until safely back inside Canleigh Hall.
CHAPTER 19
CANLEIGH – JUNE 1972
Delia rode away from the Canleigh Arms and headed Demon towards open countryside, pressing him on, faster and faster in an effort to dispel the savage fury that seemed to be making a frequently nasty habit of engulfing her of late.
That bloody, bloody woman! Delia couldn’t abide her; the pathetic creature. Making up to Richard, pretending to be all coy and innocent and it was obvious Richard was smitten and might, just might contemplate marriage with the silly little ninny. It would be a disaster. She wasn’t of their class or background, wouldn’t stand a chance of integrating and was incredibly naïve if she thought otherwise but if, just if, there was a union between Richard and this … this woman. Delia groaned. The last thing she wanted was for Richard to return to Canleigh for a very long time, which he very well might if he had a wife in tow as she couldn’t imagine a new Marchioness would want to live away from the estate. She would want to make her mark and no doubt be another thorn in Delia’s side and even more gallingly, as Richard’s wife, would take precedence over her.
The only glimmer of consolation now that Philip had deserted her and her life with him at Tangles was on temporary hold, had been the knowledge that with Father spending more and more time in Scotland, she would still be able to rule the roost at Canleigh without any interference. After all, she had been the only member of Canleigh in permanent residence since she was eighteen years old so Hardy and the staff were used to doing her bidding ...and she would have even more power as estate manager.
Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) Page 31