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

by Carole Williams

  “That’s all very well,” he said liking the sound of it but not quite sure how it was going to come to fruition. “But we’ll need a hit man and I expect they will want a hell of a lot of money and as we haven’t got it, we’re stumped again.”

  Delia paused. This was it. This was crunch time. “We’ll have to do it … ourselves,” she said slowly, letting the words sink in.

  Rocky drew in his breath and looked tense. “You really are joking now … I hope. I might be a lot of things but I am not a murderer.”

  “I told you it would take guts … are you chickening out? Because if you are, you’re finished … and have nothing to look forward to but life on the streets. This house is mortgaged up to the hilt and you will have to get out soon as the repayments haven’t been met … and you won’t have a car either.”

  Delia sat still, watching him think, digging her nails deep into the palms of her hands, hoping to God she hadn’t blown it. If he refused to fall in with her ideas, she would have to come up with something else and it would have been a complete waste of her time and money trying to mould him to do whatever she wanted.

  Finally, deeply worried but knowing he had no real choice he answered her, his voice sounding thin and weak. “When … and how?”

  Delia grinned with relief. “Leave all the details to me. You do as you’re told and it’ll be easy. You’ll see. We’ll be home and dry before you know it. Now go and get packed for a few days. There’s a plane at five o’clock and I’ve booked us on it.

  “But I don’t have a passport.”

  “Yes, you do,” she said triumphantly, diving into her leather bag and waving it in the air. “Why do you think I got you to do those photographs a while ago? I then filled in the form and forged your signature. So, you are all fit to go.”

  “Bloody hell,” he said, shaking his head as he stood up and left the room. “You’re a devious woman.”

  Delia followed him up the stairs to collect her luggage which she had already prepared for the journey back to Britain, a huge smile of satisfaction on her face. The first major hurdle in her plan had been successful. Rocky had agreed and swallowed her bait beautifully and within a couple of days she would finally be rid of him and the one person who had always stood in her way. Richard. Once the deed was done, she knew she would feel no remorse. He had betrayed her … reneging on their secret and she’d told him and her father that they would be sorry … and they were about to find out that she always kept her promises.

  CHAPTER 26

  CANLEIGH HALL – NOVEMBER 1973

  Ruth was so looking forward to Christmas and as she swam up and down the heated pool at Canleigh performing a sedate breaststroke, while Charles flashed past her doing the crawl, she wondered whether it would be a good idea to invite her parents. They had a terrible tendency to gush when in Charles’ presence and she found it highly embarrassing. Sycophancy amused Charles. He was used to it, having endured it over the years from hundreds of people desperate to ingratiate themselves with a Duke but Ruth abhorred it and certainly didn’t know if she could put up with it for three or four days. Her father wasn’t too bad but her mother was distinctly over the top and unbelievably nice to Ruth now she was a Duchess. The fact that she didn’t want a career in medicine anymore had been completely swept under the carpet. Ruth was married to a Duke, lived in a Georgian mansion in Yorkshire with a massive amount of land; there was Blairness Castle and Charles had also decided to buy a villa near to Lake Como in Italy, one of the most beautiful areas in the world. Ruth’s parents were now very proud of her and her mother, in particular, couldn’t wait to be invited to Charles and Ruth’s lovely homes.

  But there was no point in consulting Charles just yet. He had his routine of doing fifty lengths every morning and wouldn’t stop until he did the last one. Ruth flipped on her back for her last length, watching the weak sunshine try to break through the clouds outside of the swimming pool with its glass dome and floor to ceiling windows. Although a bit on the chilly side, it promised to be a fine day, just perfect for a stroll around the lake this afternoon.

  She twisted her body quickly when she reached the side of the pool and held onto the side, gently swishing her legs in the water. Charles was at the far end, just about to turn and head back to her. She smiled, watching him swim strongly, propelling himself through the water with ease. He reached her quickly, shook the water from his face, smiled and kissed her quickly on the mouth.

  “That was good. A quick breakfast now and then a few solid hours on the novel, I think.”

  “We,” said Ruth, nodding at the pram on the tiled floor above them, “are going for a walk around the lake after lunch and would very much like it if you would join us.”

  Charles helped Ruth out of the pool, admiring her slim body in the dark green swimming costume. His new son, Stephen, had only been born two months ago but Ruth had regained her lovely figure quickly, helped no doubt by her daily swimming and walking routine. They always swam together in the mornings but he didn’t always accompany on her walks as he had either estate business to see to or his novel to write. However, he had reached a particularly knotty problem in chapter twenty- nine and needed a break to think about it in more detail. An hour or two out in the fresh air with his two favourite people could just help sort it out in his mind.

  “I think I can manage that,” Charles smiled as he leant over the pram and admired his tiny son who was sleeping soundly. Ruth had fed and changed him before their swim and replete and clean the baby had promptly nodded off while his parents enjoyed their daily exercise. “But now,” said Charles. “I must work. Simon keeps reminding me of the January deadline and I mustn’t disappoint.”

  Ruth laughed. She liked Simon, Charles’ publisher. He often came to dine at Canleigh and was always talking about deadlines. Charles had written ten novels and from what she was told all were finished well before the due date. Ruth had no doubt this latest book would be the same. Even with their wedding two weeks before Christmas last year and then her pregnancy and birth of Stephen to keep them busy this year, Charles had kept to his routine of writing every morning for a few hours after his swim and then reviewing what he had written in the evenings. Simon would have nothing to worry about.

  Charles kissed his sleeping son and hugged Ruth. “I’ll see you at lunch, darling. Enjoy your morning.”

  Ruth watched him stride to the changing room, looking fit and healthy. She was glad he had agreed to come for a walk later today. She didn’t dare let it show but she was worried about him. He had complained of pains in his chest for a few weeks, had seen Dr. Arnold and been admitted to hospital for tests but nothing untoward had shown up so he was told to go home and rest, apart from some regular exercise such as his morning swim and walking. He did take it easy for a couple of days but inevitably his novel took his attention again and back to work he went, although sitting at his desk in the library and every now and again looking up to gaze at the lake and the woods beyond wasn’t exactly strenuous. However, he should do more walking and she should encourage him to join her every day.

  Following breakfast, Ruth enjoyed a relaxing morning in her sitting room where her desk was positioned near to one of the sash windows so she could easily see outside. Tina Walters, the nursery nurse, arrived just before nine o’clock in her little red Fiat, and took charge of Stephen and the nursery so Ruth could have a few hours to herself and catch up with correspondence and make a few phone calls. Susan Armitage, Charles’ secretary was always at hand if needed but Ruth liked to write her replies to invitations and letters by hand. It seemed so much more personal than a typewritten letter. Then, once her work was finished, she could spend the rest of the morning reading a novel until lunchtime.

  Ruth loved these quiet mornings. She had debated for weeks prior to Stephen’s birth as to whether she should hire a nursery nurse. Charles, brought up with nannies and nurses was insistent she should have some help, even if it was only part time so Tina was hired. She came w
ith excellent references having spent five years caring for the Earl of Mountcliffe’s three children in Harrogate but once the youngest started school she needed to look for another position. Residing in Canleigh village with her husband, Mark, the local mechanic, was a real bonus as living so close she was happy to do extra shifts if needed although her normal hours were nine until five every weekday. The hours suited both Tina and Ruth as it meant Ruth had her days free to do as she wished but have full responsibility of her baby during the evenings, at night and all weekends and Tina could be at home when her husband finished work.

  Tina was in her mid-thirties; just under five feet tall with a lovely hourglass figure, a ready smile on her rounded face and a mop of dark brown hair that she always kept tied in a ponytail when on duty. Ruth had liked her very much from the moment Tina was interviewed, just before Ruth gave birth, although she felt a pang of sympathy for her new employee as Tina couldn’t have children of her own and had no choice but to use up all her maternal instincts on those of other people.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me, Your Grace,” said Tina during the interview. “I have the best of both worlds. I have the joy of looking after children while I am at work but none of the expense and responsibility at home. Mark, coming from a rather large family,” she grinned thinking of his five younger brothers and sisters, “has had his fill of children as he was the eldest and had to help out rather more than he would have liked so it doesn’t bother him too much, so we have our dogs … and our cats … to spoil and pamper and that’s the way we like it.”

  It had worked out well. Ruth had the joy of caring for Stephen as much as she wanted or plenty of free time to spend as she wished. She was very, very lucky, she thought as she and Charles ate a light lunch in the dining room and then donned coats and gloves and walked hand in hand down past the stables to the lake. It was far colder than Ruth had anticipated so it was decided Stephen would remain in the nursery with Tina and as much as she loved her son, Ruth found any time she could spend alone with her husband particularly precious.

  It took a whole hour to circle the lake and as the temperature wasn’t too far off freezing they didn’t sit on any of the benches, as they usually did, and kept moving.

  “Christmas,” said Ruth, looking up at Charles. “Do you think Mother and Father should be invited? I know they will be very disappointed if not but it is entirely up to you. If you really can’t stand it, that’s fine by me.”

  Charles smiled down at her. He loved her so much. He had never been as happy in his life as he was with Ruth. She was everything he could have wished for in a wife and he would walk over hot coals for her if need be. “Of course they can come if you wish them to. I really don’t mind. I like your father … and your mother,” he grimaced mockingly, “well, at least she has a brain in her head.”

  Ruth laughed gaily. “Well, that’s true. Okay then … if you’re sure. Vicky and Barrie are definitely joining us.”

  “It’s just as well Delia won’t be here then,” Charles remarked caustically. He hadn’t been happy when Vicky forgave Barrie for his treatment of her with Delia at Canleigh, announced their engagement, and then married him in February. He didn’t trust Barrie one iota and had already given him a stern warning not to hurt her in any way.

  Ruth squeezed Charles’ arm sympathetically. She knew how much he distrusted Barrie and was unhappy about the marriage but he had had to stand back and let his daughter do as she wanted if he didn’t want to lose her too. He was already estranged from Richard, thanks to their marriage, and they had no idea where Delia was or what she was doing.

  “Yes. It is,” she agreed. “I wonder where she is.”

  “She’ll turn up one day, mark my words. She loves Canleigh too much. She won’t be able to stay away forever.”

  Ruth closed her eyes, trying to prevent a shudder run through her body. She knew it was inevitable that Delia would re-enter their lives but she dreaded it and hoped it wouldn’t happen for a very long time.

  “I wish Richard would come up for the festivities but I suppose he’ll make the excuse that he’s working,” said Charles glumly.

  Ruth looked across the lake. They had reached the half way point and straight across the water stood the Hall, bathed in winter sunshine. It looked splendid. Old and grand. A truly magnificent piece of architecture. Ruth had fallen in love with it as soon as she had moved in. Its imposing façade, the beautiful rooms inside with the sparkling chandeliers, marble fireplaces, Italian paintings, Chippendale furniture, and the stillness of the staterooms downstairs. Then there were the stunning views from upstairs, especially from their lovely bedroom on the corner of the first floor, with its double aspect facing south-east. It was wonderful, idling in bed first thing in the morning with the sun streaming through the windows. It always made her feel good to be alive.

  Charles had been extremely busy during the couple of months prior to their wedding. Ruth had moved temporarily back into her parents’ home after leaving Oxford and they, especially her mother, had thrown themselves into preparations for the wedding, with all talk of her medical career swept under the carpet and never to be spoken of again. Charles visited regularly and on his first appearance, enquired what her favourite colours were. He then proceeded, unbeknown to her, to have Margaret’s rooms, which ran the full length of the east wing and consisted of a massive bedroom with its double south-east aspect, bathroom, dressing room and sitting room with its double aspect to the north-east, completely refurbished and decorated. All the old furniture was replaced by new. The bedroom was given a king size bed, the bathroom a sunken bath and newly fitted wardrobes in the dressing room, all in Ruth’s favourite colours of pale green and cream, creating an oasis of calmness as soon as one stepped inside. Ruth was overwhelmed when she saw it and her love for Charles was cemented even further and grew deeper and deeper as their idyllic life together continued. She was so lucky to have found such a wonderfully kind and thoughtful husband. She had never thought it was possible to be so happy, content, and full of joy.

  Although being an actual Duchess took a bit of getting used to. She was still in awe of the fact that she was the mistress of Canleigh and was married to its master, wondering sometimes if she was in a dream and would wake up one day and her lovely life would come to a crashing end. But it was all true … and it was all due to this wonderful man who walked beside her. She loved him with an intensity that left her breathless at times and thanked God regularly at the tiny church on the estate for bringing him into her life. She was truly blessed but she had to make the most of it as one day in the future Delia and Richard would probably do their best to make life difficult, especially Richard who couldn’t stay away forever, as he was the rightful heir. At some point he was going to have to come back and become involved in the running of the estate. It was inevitable … and Ruth knew it was going to be disturbing, to say the least.

  Richard was still in Oxford but hadn’t made any attempt at communication since Charles and Ruth married last Christmas. There was a cold silence and although Charles wrote regularly, keeping Richard up to date with estate matters, there was no reconciliation. Ruth wasn’t surprised. Her last conversation with Richard had been stormy and alarming, leaving her in no doubt as to his feelings regarding her marriage to his father.

  While she had been staying with her parents before her marriage, Richard had telephoned her out of the blue and asked that she meet him for a walk. Ruth was reluctant to go but as he was going to be her step-son, which seemed utterly absurd as he was the same age as her, she owed it to Charles to try and smooth things over. They met on Christchurch Meadow in Oxford. Ruth was on her guard and Richard looked tense and was unable to look her in the eye, doing little to reassure her that he wanted to repair things between them, even though the first words out of his mouth were conciliatory.

  “Firstly, Ruth, I want to apologise for the way I treated you last time we met. It was unforgivable and I really don’t know what came over me. I think
it must have been the wine, Delia’s dreadful tantrums and then finding you with Father …”

  “We were only talking, for goodness sake,” Ruth said sharply and then biting her tongue. After all, Richard was trying to apologise.

  “Yes,” he said wearily. “I suppose you were … then … and as I said, I apologise. It really isn’t in my nature to be … to be so brutal. Can you forgive me?”

  Ruth kept quiet. She wanted to forgive him but the ugliness of what had happened in Canleigh’s kitchen that night was still vivid in her mind. She had been so frightened he was going to rape her there and then and afterwards, once reaching the safety of her room and locking the door, she hadn’t been able to stop shaking, let alone sleep. It had been the worst night of her life and she couldn’t forget it easily.

  “I see you can’t,” said Richard softly. “I am so very sorry, Ruth. My actions were appalling … did you … did you tell Father?”

  She stopped walking and looked at him defiantly. “No, Richard, I didn’t. He loves you very much and there is no way I would tarnish you in his eyes but I don’t know if I can forgive you. I want to but … but … I could never feel safe alone with you again.”

  “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I want you to. I really do. I want to resume our friendship … perhaps take it further.”

  Ruth looked at him, horrified, but didn’t speak. Surely he couldn’t mean …

  “I hadn’t realised until that weekend how much I really think of you, Ruth. It’s been killing me since you left Canleigh … and then Oxford. I never get to see you anymore and I don’t know if I can bear not having you in my life … as my wife.”

  He turned to face her, his big dark eyes boring beseechingly into hers as he tried to take her hand. She pulled hers away swiftly. “Richard, I am so sorry but you are deluded if you think there can be anything between us now. There might have been a slim chance once … I valued you so much as a good friend … but not anymore. You killed any respect I had for you and it can never be regained … and anyway, I know your Father telephoned you about our engagement and our plans to marry just before Christmas so I really don’t know why you are saying all this.”