Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama)

by Carole Williams

  Girding her loins to face whatever had to be faced this evening, Delia made her way down the stairs carrying two huge files, her dress swishing sensuously against her legs as she tried to walk elegantly in her black stilettos. Normal footwear was riding boots or flat shoes and she had no idea how women could wear such high heels all the time. The soles of her feet were already aching and she longed for the moment she could sit down at dinner and slip the shoes off beneath the table.

  There was no one in the library and she quickly stashed the files behind the desk, throwing a loving look at Granny’s portrait and blowing her a kiss. There was one more piece of jewellery she wanted to wear this evening, which darling Granny had given her. She moved to the small painting of Filey Bay behind the door, taking if off the wall and revealing the family safe. She twirled the knob to the right combination, hoping Father hadn’t changed it since the last time she used it but the door opened, revealing, amongst a batch of documents, a small black velvet jewellery box. Inside was Granny’s ring. With a pang of nostalgia, Delia clearly remembered the day Granny had given it to her, when she had been sorting through her jewellery at the Dower House, telling a fascinated twelve-year old Delia how she had come by all the fabulous necklaces, bracelets and rings. The overly large rectangular black diamond ring, set in small white diamonds, had caught Delia’s eye. It was dramatic, bold and would make a statement about the wearer. Seeing how Delia had fallen in love with it, Granny presented it to her, although she insisted it had to live in the Canleigh safe and Delia wasn’t allowed to wear it as she pleased until she was eighteen years old. There hadn’t been many opportunities to show it off. Tonight would only be the second time Delia had worn it, the first being the hunt ball. She slipped it onto her index finger next to the white gold band on her thumb and smiled. The rings looked good together.

  Hearing the clink of glass in the dining room, Delia closed the safe and put the painting back on the wall. She wandered through the music room, admiring the shimmering lake through the windows and entered the dining room, noting there were only four place settings on the table. She looked hopefully at Hardy, who was just carrying out the finishing touches.

  “Only four, Hardy? Who isn’t coming down?”

  “Lady Victoria is taking Mr. Saunders-Smythe to the railway station and has declined dinner, Milady … in fact I think they are leaving now.”

  The door to the dining room into the entrance hall was open and Vicky and Barrie could be heard almost running down the stairs, Vicky’s lighter footsteps a few paces before Barrie’s heavier ones. They crossed the entrance hall and went outside.

  Delia followed them to the window by the front door to see Vicky was striding across the gravel with a stubborn, unrelenting look of determination on her face as she got into the green MG Midget and slammed the door. Barrie strode behind her and only just managed to jump in before Vicky let out the clutch and sped off with her foot hard down on the accelerator.

  Delia gave a wry smile of satisfaction, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hardy, who was crossing the entrance hall to pop down to the kitchens. He closed his eyes in dismay for a second. He’d always had a lot of time for Lady Delia and felt desperately sorry for her present sorrow but to have hurt her young sister so badly was an unforgivable action and he couldn’t believe she could be so cruel. He knew she was hurting badly with her break-up from young Philip but even so, she had gone too far this time.

  Delia returned to the dining room and glanced at the table layout. To just have her father, Richard and Ruth for dinner meant the conversation could be brought round to the future of the estate without too much useless small talk. This could turn out better than expected. All she had to do now was placate her twin.

  “So, there you are,” said Richard, entering the room, having looked for Delia in the library first. “I think you owe us, especially Ruth, an apology. You were completely out of order at lunch.”

  “Oh, Richard. I am truly sorry,” said Delia quickly, pretending to be contrite. “It was dreadful of me … but ….” The tears were easy to encourage, she only had to think of her broken engagement. “You looked so happy together … it made me miserable … you simply have no idea how much I miss Philip.”

  Instantly full of remorse for reprimanding her at such a time, Richard wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

  “You do need to get away from here for a while. Please think about it. Go to Scotland with Father if you don’t want to come down to Oxford. You know how you love Blairness. It will do you the world of good. You can’t stay here, brooding about what might have been.”

  Delia nodded and dried her eyes, thankful her mascara was waterproof. “It’s a good idea. I promise I’ll think about it … but there’s Demon to consider. He only responds to Philip or me. Perkins does his best with him but Demon is so temperamental and I wouldn’t be happy leaving them here together and I certainly couldn’t ask Philip to have him, not now,” she finished sadly.

  Further discussion was postponed as Charles entered the dining room with a sublimely pretty Ruth on his arm, enveloped in a pink and white creation which consisted of masses of taffeta. Her skin glowed and her hair was brushed back from her face and held in place by a decorative pink slide. Shining hazel eyes sparkled at Charles whose eyes twinkled back. Father was at his most charming. Delia had never seen him so animated in female company. He literally fawned over this doll-like person all through dinner making Delia feel quite bilious and increasingly frustrated. Several attempts were made to steer the conversation to the estate but Charles continually ignored the comments, centering his attention on Ruth, making her laugh and setting Delia’s teeth on edge with annoyance. Her father was behaving like a schoolboy in the first flush of adolescent love. It was quite obscene.

  Richard looked positively ruffled, answering any questions in monosyllables and not taking his eyes off Ruth, quite apparently put out by her enjoyment of Charles’s interest.

  “So, has anyone any idea where young Vicky and Barrie are this evening?” asked Charles. “They didn’t mention to me that they wouldn’t be here for dinner.”

  “I think they may have gone into Leeds to dine,” said Delia quietly, unable to look at Hardy who was walking towards the table with a dish of vegetables.

  “That’s a shame. I wanted to spend a bit more time getting to know the young man who seems to have stolen Vicky’s heart.”

  Delia choked on her wine and then pressed her napkin to her mouth, knowing Hardy was watching her and for a second, felt quite ashamed of herself … but why should she? What she did or didn’t do was nothing to do with him. He might have known her all her life but when all was said and done, he was only a servant and she didn’t have to give a fig about what he thought of her.

  The meal seemed interminable. Delia was a bundle of nerves, desperate to launch into a deep, serious discussion about the estate but the way her father and that silly woman were behaving it was going to be a mammoth task. Sighing deeply, she decided if all else failed she would have to wait until Richard retired. Then she could go to his room and get his approval for what she wanted to do before he left for Oxford in the morning. Father still hadn’t mentioned when he was planning to leave Canleigh. No doubt, as he had been planning to stay until after the wedding, she would have at least a couple of weeks to tackle him, although she would have liked it all sewn up tonight, with both her brother and father present at the same time.

  The evening dragged and Delia was bored to tears. The discourse was hardly stimulating and Hardy seemed to be taking his time in serving. There wasn’t even any early morning entertainment to look forward to now Vicky had whisked Barrie away from Canleigh. It was nearly ten o’clock before they all rose from the table to go to the library for coffee and liqueurs. Delia pondered on whether to go to her room and read a book until Ruth was out of the way or just to stay and get drunk in the library. Neither idea appealed, especially the latter as she had to keep a clear head to talk to Richard. T
hen, for a few sweet moments, she thought her luck was in.

  Ruth did her best to stifle a yawn as they all stood up and Delia’s heart leapt. Hopefully Ruth would retire early, she’d have her father and Richard to herself earlier rather than later, and although Richard didn’t look too happy, her father was in a buoyant mood, but her hopes were dashed immediately.

  Charles had noticed Ruth attempting to smother her yawn too. “I think our marvellous air has quite worn you out, my dear but please join us for a quick nightcap. You’ll be returning to Oxford in the morning and it could be a while before we have the pleasure of your company at Canleigh again … that is, to say, I do hope Richard will bring you up again … and don’t forget my invitation to Scotland. I meant what I said. I really would like you to see Blairness.”

  “Oh, dear God,” Delia said silently, as pained as Richard, who winced as if he had toothache.

  “I thought we were going to potter down to the lake,” Richard said in a miffed tone.

  Ruth looked at him in dismay, unable to face the thought of any more physical exertion that day. Although a warm bath and a long, deep afternoon nap had been beneficial, her body was sore and stiff from the unusual amount of exercise taken that morning. The delightful dinner and wine were now relaxing her quickly and it would be all she could do to stay awake for a nightcap. It would be so rude and humiliating if she fell asleep in front of them all.

  “I’m so sorry, Richard … Charles … but quite frankly I can hardly put one foot in front of the other. I know I’m being a party pooper but ….”

  Charles smiled understandingly. “It’s fine, Ruth. We’re being selfish. You must go up to bed if you so wish. I must admit the conversation will be much duller without you but no doubt we’ll manage,” he said, looking jokingly at his twins.

  Delia butted in quickly. “Well, there is something rather important I need to discuss ….”

  She got no further as with no warning the dining room door was thrown open with a resounding bang. Startled, they turned to see a furious Vicky standing on the threshold, still dressed in the casual clothes she had worn for shopping that afternoon. Her lovely face, all traces of makeup washed away by unstoppable bouts of crying, was twisted in pain and anger. She stared ferociously at Delia.

  “I loathe you. I really, really hate you. I don’t understand how you could do this to me after what Philip did to you. I just don’t believe you, Delia. You are a complete and utter bitch.”

  Delia groaned and sank back into her chair at the table. Trust Vicky to make a song and dance … and now. Of all the times to pick.

  “What on earth is going on, Vicky,” asked a shocked Charles. It must be something pretty terrible for his youngest daughter to be so impassioned … and Delia looked thoroughly put out. Something was dreadfully amiss and he wanted to know what it was immediately. He had a nasty suspicion it was something to do with Barrie and it looked as if Delia was involved. Whatever had she done?

  Vicky looked up at him despairingly. “Do you know what she did this afternoon?” pointing at Delia, “and under this very roof, of all places.”

  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” he replied, almost impatiently, vexed that Ruth had to witness yet another family spectacle. It was too much.

  By now Vicky was shaking uncontrollably and could hardly speak. The afternoon’s trauma was beginning to take its toll. She’d never forget the shock of seeing Barrie emerge from Delia’s room and cringed at the memory of a naked Delia sprawled out on her bed like a cat that had the cream. Then the ensuing row in Vicky’s room, which went on for hours, with Barrie pleading with her, begging her to give him another chance, saying it was all Delia’s fault, she had enticed him into her bedroom, given him brandy and then seduced him. He seemed to have forgotten he had a mind of his own and could easily have said no and left. Her Adonis was pathetic and weak and had shattered her dreams. There had been no choice but to dump him at the railway station, having to listen to the excuses rolling off his tongue on the journey into Leeds. He still insisted he loved her but all Vicky could think of was that he had been unfaithful, in her own home, with her sister. The enormity of it was throwing Vicky completely off balance and she looked accusingly at Delia.

  “You tell them … tell them what a dirty, rotten person you really are … what a complete and utter bitch … go on, Delia. You tell them.”

  Nobody moved but all eyes were on Delia, waiting for her to speak. Vicky began to cry, Richard placed a protective arm around her, and Ruth moved closer in sympathy. Charles, his temper beginning to get the better of him, began to drum his fingers on the table.

  “Well, Delia. What have you done?” he thundered, dreading the answer he knew was coming.

  Delia raised her head and looked at her father’s angry face and Richard’s worried frown. What a bloody little fool Vicky was. What a bloody little trouble-maker. If this stupid episode harmed her plans for Canleigh in any way Delia would pay her back and by God it wouldn’t be pleasant. Why the hell couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?

  “It’s no big deal,” Delia announced briskly, standing up and fronting it out. “Nothing for anyone to get flustered about.”

  “How can you stand there and say that?” cried Vicky. “It may have been nothing for you but my life is in ruins because of your actions.”

  “Delia! I want to know what you have done … and now,” demanded Charles.

  Delia paced the dining room, trying hard to think of a way to gain control of the rapidly deteriorating situation. She waved her hands in a gesture of defiance.

  “Barrie and I spent a delightful afternoon in each other’s company, that’s all.”

  “Yes, in your bedroom. In your bed,” Vicky hissed, hardly able to see Delia as the tears coursed down her cheeks.

  “Well, if I were you, I would look upon it as a favour. You’re more stupid than I thought if you think you can hang onto Barrie for long … he’s an alley cat. Mind you,” Delia softened her tone, remembering the thrill of his hands on her skin, “He’s a pretty terrific alley cat.”

  Vicky gasped, Ruth gulped, Richard looked aghast and Charles was beside himself with rage, horrified by what had transpired and seeing more of Margaret in Delia than he liked. God forbid his eldest daughter turned out like her mother.

  He kept his tone even and light but the look on his face was enough to send a chill through Delia.

  “That is enough, Delia,” he said quietly. “Your attitude leaves a lot to be desired, my girl.”

  He turned to Ruth. “I can’t apologise enough for this dreadful display. Would you mind taking Vicky to her room … I’ll come and talk to you in a while, darling,” he said to his youngest daughter, giving her a quick hug.

  Ruth was happy to oblige, utterly relieved to get away from the explosive tension pervading the room. Vicky, blinded by tears, followed Ruth without a murmur as Charles turned back to Delia.

  “Go through to the library. I can’t bear to look at you at this moment in time. Richard and I will join you there shortly … and when we do, for goodness sake think carefully before you speak again.”

  Delia moved quickly, the male members of her family catching the sweet scent of her Chloe perfume as she passed, her long satin skirt rustling slightly, the diamonds in her rings sparkling as they caught the light from the chandelier.

  She entered the library and poured herself a brandy and added some ice from the silver bucket beside the decanters. She could have kicked herself for having thrown caution to the winds this afternoon and again, just now. Whatever was the matter with her? She didn’t seem to be able to think or act rationally at all at the moment … and to allow her animal instincts to take over with Barrie had been a huge mistake. She might have known that Daddy’s little girl would have to tell Daddy. The cat was really amongst the pigeons now and goodness knows how she was going to put it right. She badly wanted a cigarette but didn’t dare light up. Her father hated it and she’d antagonised him enough. Damn and blas
t. All she had wanted to do this evening was to get her future into some sort of shape and now it was going to be overshadowed by this nonsense. Her father would probably go overboard and no doubt Richard would have a lot to say on the matter. He was much fonder of Vicky than he was of her, much fonder.

  “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” said Charles grimly, striding through the door towards the cocktail cabinet and pouring a liberal amount of whisky into a glass. “I consider your behaviour absolutely despicable. Victoria has done nothing whatsoever to deserve this. I can’t believe you could do such a thing. It defies all common decency.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly,” announced Richard, joining his father. With an empty glass in one hand and the brandy decanter in the other, he looked at Delia.

  “What has gotten into you? We know and appreciate how upset you are over Philip but that’s no reason to ride roughshod over the family. Especially Vicky. God damn you, Delia, you know how ill she was. Something like this could send her spiralling back into anorexia if we’re not careful. She was so happy, bless her. She really had something to live for and you smashed everything with one blow. Barrie probably isn’t the best person in the world for her but left to themselves the romance would no doubt have died a natural death, without all this entirely unnecessary trauma.”

  “I know. I know … and I’m sorry … and I’ll try and make it up to her, I promise.”

  Delia walked round to the rear of the sofa to the left of the fireplace and looked up at her Granny’s portrait. How she wished she were here and could advise her on what to do. Delia really needed her wise wisdom now. She placed her hands on the back of the sofa and stared at the black diamond ring, thinking rapidly. Should she or should she not broach the subject of the estate now and take their minds off Vicky? If she let them dwell for long on what had occurred this afternoon, they might be totally against her in the morning. They probably were now but it was a risk she had to take. She drew in her breath sharply.