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

by Carole Williams

  “You can’t. You simply can’t marry him,” Richard whispered. “It’s obscene, disgusting. He’s an old man. Why would you?”

  Ruth stood her ground. “I’m sorry if it upsets you, Richard, but I love him deeply ..., and he loves me. That’s the honest truth, whether you believe it or not.”

  “I don’t!” he said abruptly, his voice growing menacing and his eyes glinting coldly. “Delia was right. You’re a bloody little fortune hunter. I was the prize until you met Father and realised he was a better bet and more of a pushover. I’d thought highly of you, Ruth. I thought you were a decent person with integrity and honour. How wrong I was. Instead, you’re a conniving little bitch with a butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth manner. That’s how you did it, isn’t it? That’s why Father hasn’t seen through you. You took a lonely old man and wormed your way into his heart with your simpering niceness and puritanical outlook on life just so you could be mistress of Canleigh and live a life of idle luxury.”

  Ruth watched him stride about on the grass, rubbing his chin and glowering with fury. She was glad they had met out in the open with other people out walking and children playing nearby. She wouldn’t have felt safe alone with him now. He was far too angry. With sickening clarity, she remembered the scene in the kitchen at Canleigh and was amazed he had the audacity to castigate her for lack of integrity and honour. Again, she pondered on the sanity of Richard and his twin. They both had terrible tempers and a somewhat twisted view if things didn’t go quite their way.

  Richard suddenly turned and strode towards her. Ruth backed hastily and banged into the hard trunk of a tree. She couldn’t move away as he stood horribly close, his eyes glittering with rage. His hands were in the pockets of his jacket but she had a nasty suspicion he was longing to put them round her throat there and then. He didn’t have to utter a word. The threat was there, in his demeanour.

  He glowered at her for a few seconds. “I’m warning you now,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “if you plan to go ahead with this crazy idea of marrying my Father, I’ll have nothing more to do with either of you. I shall flatly refuse to set foot in Yorkshire or Canleigh. It would also be wise to remember that when he dies, which by the law of averages he will do long before you, as he is so much older than you, I’ll have you drummed out of the Hall so fast you’ll wonder what the hell hit you. And you’ll be left penniless. I’ll make absolutely certain of that. Not one thing … not one single piece of my inheritance will you get your greedy little hands on,” he snarled, and then to her great relief, he turned quickly, stamped across the Meadow and disappeared back into the crowds in St. Aldates, leaving her shaken and with no doubt that he meant every word.

  He hadn’t returned to Canleigh, not even briefly, and refused to talk to Charles when he phoned him. Ruth never told Charles about that awful meeting with Richard and her heart bled for him after every attempted phone call. Charles always looked so disappointed and sad when his son refused to speak to him and Ruth couldn’t help feeling guilty because she was the cause of this estrangement.

  Charles stood beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders as they both looked across the lake at the Hall. “It doesn’t matter, Ruth. If Richard wants to be so childish it’s his affair. It’s a shame he won’t accept our marriage but I’m not going to let that spoil what we have together. I have never been as happy in my life as I am with you and nothing and no-one will interfere with that. I love you so completely, darling. That’s the most important thing to me.”

  He bent his head and kissed her softly on her upturned mouth and stroked her golden hair, his heart ablaze with pure joy. He could never explain to anyone exactly how he felt about this woman. He adored her absolutely. He worshipped her. He would do anything for her. She was his world.

  Ruth smiled up at him. She knew how he felt. She felt the same. He made her feel complete. All her life something had been missing. She had no idea what it was before their marriage but she did now. It was him. She had always been waiting for him .... and now she had him, she was never going to let him go. She would do everything she possibly could to make this marriage work and retain the joy and happiness they both felt now they were together. She loved him intensely and would fight to the death to protect their cherished union.

  Turning from the view of their home, they linked arms and re-joined the serpentine path which meandered around the far side of the lake, stopping to admire the tumbling cascade between two pools. The water sparkled in the sunshine as it gushed down the slope with odd droplets caught on the mossy sides flashing like diamonds as they slid down to join the rushing water at the bottom as it poured into the larger lake beyond.

  “You do realise that not only will it be Christmas but also our first wedding anniversary,” Charles smiled. “A whole year. It’s gone so quickly.”

  Ruth laughed gaily, pleased to be able to turn the conversation from Richard. “Yes. It has. Last year at this time I was trying desperately to find a suitable dress.”

  “And you did. You looked stunning, floating down the aisle. I’m sad, of course, that Margaret died, especially the way she did, but at least it meant we could have our wedding at home in St. Mary’s.”

  Charles wouldn’t forget the day he had heard about Margaret’s accident, delivered in a drunken phone call from Simon Parfitt. Charles had taken the call and was quite surprised to find himself feeling almost sorry for the man. Simon had actually cried pathetically, whining on about how he wanted to come back to England but there was no money. He hadn’t actually asked for cash but Charles, guessing what was coming, had cut the conversation short, and not given him the chance. Margaret’s settlement had been more than adequate to keep her and Parfitt in comfort for the rest of their days if they had been sensible and there would be no more handouts.

  Although Charles was shocked to hear what had happened to Margaret, he could feel no real sorrow for the demise of his former wife. She had caused so much misery for him and his children and he wasn’t sure how they would all take the news. Richard still refused to speak to Charles on the telephone so he had to leave a message with the hospital switchboard to ask him to ring Canleigh as soon as possible as he had to talk to him about Margaret. Richard did ring back but was non-committal and put the phone down as soon as Charles told him the news. Vicky broke down in tears but not having seen her mother for such a long time and not that close to her anyway, she seemed to adjust fairly quickly.

  He had no way of contacting Delia and just hoped she would be able to cope mentally when she did find out. Since her devastating breakdown when she was so young Charles had a niggling worry it might occur again. In fact, he hadn’t told Ruth how seriously worried he was about Delia’s disappearance after that dreadful weekend when she stormed out of Canleigh. He made a number of calls in the week following her departure and discovered she was living in London with Shelley. Charles liked Shelley. She had been a pleasant, steady influence on Delia when they were at school so his fears had been allayed but following Simon’s call regarding Margaret, Charles rung Shelley’s apartment, leaving a message with the cleaning lady for Delia to ring him urgently. Either the cleaning lady forgot to pass on the message or Delia still didn’t want to talk to him. Charles rung again, spoke to Shelley and discovered Delia had left and to go to of all places, the Caribbean, unaware of what had happened. Having no idea of whether she was just going for a holiday or had the intention of seeking out her mother, Charles reluctantly rung Simon Parfitt to advise him that he might receive a visit from Delia. But he was too late. Delia had already seen him, been told about Margaret and had left the island. Simon had no idea of where she had gone and that was the last Charles heard of her. He just hoped that wherever she was she was okay and although he knew she wouldn’t be happy that he had married Ruth, he wished she would come home so that he knew she was safe and well and in the place she loved most.

  Ruth was smiling contentedly, making Charles smile too. He wasn’t going to spoil this walk w
ith thoughts of his former wife and his worries about his offspring.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked as they rounded another bend and watched the Hall grow closer on their return journey.

  “The wedding. It was so beautiful. Such a fabulous, happy day in such idyllic surroundings.”

  Charles had to agree. It had been a quiet wedding the week before Christmas with very few guests as Ruth wanted it kept simple and Charles was more than willing to oblige. Ruth’s parents had naturally been there, stupefied that the ceremony would make their daughter a Duchess. Her father, in his top hat and tails, gave her away and her mother in a fur-trimmed emerald green coat and hat, and diamond earrings, sat proudly watching her daughter marry a peer of the realm. A euphoric Vicky, having just announced her engagement to Barrie, was the only bridesmaid and looked radiant and glamorous in a long royal blue velvet dress with a cream muff to keep her hands warm. Although Lord Mulroon, one of Charles’ old friends, was groomsman at his former wedding to Margaret, he had been more than happy to do the honours once more. Barrie was there, of course but the only other guests outside of the family were Philip and Sue Kershaw, safe in the knowledge that Delia wouldn’t be attending and some members of staff who could be spared from duties preparing the wedding breakfast in the Hall.

  Charles’ eyes glittered as he remembered how elegant Ruth looked as she walked down the aisle towards him on the arm of her father. She wore a long white hooded velvet gown trimmed in cream fur with her hands snuggled into a cream ruff, which she passed to Vicky on reaching him. Her upturned face with just a hint of makeup and pearl earrings was alight with happiness and he could remember how overjoyed he was that she had agreed to marry him and how much he would worship her until the end of his days.

  “Yes,” Charles said, clearing his throat. The whole day had been utterly blissful. Everyone was genuinely happy and pleased at their union and even though Richard had declined to attend and Delia was God knows where, it hadn’t blighted the day. It had truly been the best of his life. He would never forget it.

  “The Hall looked wonderful too. The staff did such a fantastic job, making it so festive,” sighed Ruth, recalling how all the downstairs rooms had been decorated and a large tree, reaching the ceiling in the entrance hall was covered with tinsel and coloured balls with a sparkling silver star on top. Flowers were everywhere; large displays of cream and white roses, lilies, blood red roses and carnations, and lots of delicate white gypsophila. The table in the dining room for the wedding breakfast looked simply splendid with Waterford crystal glasses, Georgian gilt cutlery, and Sevres porcelain. Ruth had felt as if she was in some fabulous dream and even now, a whole year on, still marvelled at how her life had changed so dramatically since meeting Charles. He was extremely precious to her and she couldn’t imagine life without him now. He, and their darling son, were her world.

  “It’s a shame we haven’t been back to Italy and the villa since our honeymoon. We should go soon … how about after Christmas? We could ski again. You did so well last year on the nursery slopes,” he grinned, recalling Ruth’s first attempts at learning to ski.

  Ruth laughed. “Don’t mock, you awful man. I will master it. Before you know it, I shall be flashing down the mountains just as well as you can. It’s just practice I need … and we were only ski-ing for a couple of days … there was so many other fabulous things to do … exploring Rome, admiring the art in Florence and oh … Venice. Wasn’t it fabulous, especially taking gondolas everywhere? It was so romantic. The weather was marvellous too. Even though it was winter, it wasn’t particularly cold and it was almost a shame we had to come back for Vicky’s wedding.”

  “Umm,” replied Charles. He still harboured grave doubts about his youngest daughter’s marriage but knew he had to keep his feelings about it to himself as far as she was concerned. After an initial discussion with her about whether she was really sure she was doing the right thing, and she had assured him she thought she was as Barrie had apologised over and over again for his lapse with Delia and promised he would be faithful to her forever in the future, Charles had no choice but to support her. He spared no expense in a grand wedding for her in York Minster with half the county invited. Vicky had looked a dream in a bubble of white with the Canleigh tiara glittering on her head. The press had a field day and blown up photographs of them all had appeared in the newspapers the next day and in fashion magazines for weeks afterwards.

  Now, a year later, the pair lived in London, running their own business in partnership with their university chum, Alexander Conroy. Somehow Vicky had cleverly managed to persuade Charles to part with a great deal of cash as a wedding present to assist in the purchase of four badly neglected Georgian houses leading off Kensington High Street. After a battle to obtain planning permission, a vast amount had been spent turning them into one building, restructuring and renovating the interior and now it was deemed to be one of the most fashionable nightspots in the capital. Charles and Ruth didn’t get down to London often but heard from Vicky regularly and it seemed both marriage and business were doing well.

  “You will be nice to Barrie at Christmas, won’t you?” said Ruth with an anxious edge to her voice.

  “I shall do my best, darling, although I still don’t trust him. He will hurt Vicky badly one day, I’m positive about that.”

  Ruth tried hard to sound positive, although she shared his fears. “Well, the club is well patronised now so hopefully that will keep him fully occupied and out of trouble.”

  “Or exactly the opposite,” replied Charles gloomily. “It could give him ample opportunity to stray. He’s a very good-looking young man and knows it. That Alexander is a much more stable kind of character. It’s a pity Vicky hadn’t settled on him. I would have been much happier.”

  Ruth squeezed his arm. “We’ll just have to hope and pray that Vicky remains as content as she is at present.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Let’s look forward to Christmas and plan our escape in January. I can just breathe the fresh Italian mountain air as we speak.”

  Ruth laughed. “That’s the damp, cold air of England in your lungs, Your Grace.”

  Charles grinned. “Yes, Your Grace. I think you are probably right.”

  CHAPTER 27

  LONDON AND OXFORD

  NOVEMBER 1973

  An hour into the flight, Delia took the coffee the stewardess offered.

  “My brother won’t want one,” she said seeing the woman’s enquiring glance at Rocky who was fast asleep beside Delia, in the seat nearest the window. “He’s a musician and been playing at gig after gig recently so he’s utterly exhausted. This is a good opportunity for him to have a good rest and anyway, he’s terrified of flying, so it’s best I don’t wake him.”

  The Stewardess vaguely recognised Rocky and understood immediately, having encountered many famous pop stars and their bands boarding flights for London although she did wonder why Rocky and Lady Delia Canleigh were in economy seats but it was their business and she was too busy to be interested in them for long.

  She made her way down the aisle and Delia sighed with relief, having guessed the young woman was puzzled as to why they were seated with the masses but Delia hadn’t wanted to be where they were more easily observed. They were less conspicuous in ‘cattle class’ as she thought of it, surrounded by lots of people who weren’t watched quite so closely by flight attendants in case they required anything. Delia had given Rocky a sleeping pill as soon as they stepped on the plane and didn’t want anyone wondering why he was asleep for most of the nine-hour flight. She wanted him calm and quiet for the long journey ahead so he didn’t make a scene craving for more drugs … or even worse, blurting out anything about why they were on their way to the U.K. The next few hours in the air also provided a good opportunity to think through the next stages of her plan without any distractions. She looked almost fondly at him breathing heavily beside her. He was going to help her set everything in motion. Poor young man. Bli
ssfully unaware of what was in store for him.

  Delia grinned to herself and took another sip of her coffee. She glanced out at the clouds and the wing tip of the aeroplane feeling a thrill of excitement. This was it. She was finally leaving America and going home to sort the problem that had dogged her all her life, although returning to Canleigh was a daunting prospect as she had no idea what she was going to find and how her father was going to react. Demon, of course, would be highly delighted to see her again and she couldn’t wait to get on his back and gallop around the estate at breakneck speed. She had missed him so much. Then there was Philip. Darling, delicious Philip. He belonged to Delia and she was going to get him back. That stupid woman he had taken up with, if she hadn’t already departed, would have to go. Of that, there was no question.

  It was just after eight o’clock in the evening and dark when they touched down at Heathrow, Delia unable to keep an enormous smile off her face as the spectacular lights of London grew closer when the plane came into land. She could hardly contain her excitement at being back in the U.K. Home wasn’t far away now. Canleigh was only a few hours up the motorway … but before she could take the last leg of the journey there was a serious job to do first and she had to get organised fast. Time was of the essence now Rocky was in the country. She managed to wake him just before they landed. Luckily, he was calm and malleable but Delia was anxious to get him to the hotel and out of sight before the agitation for drugs kicked in, not having dared to bring anything with them in case customs searched their luggage. However, there had been no need to worry. Two weary uniformed officials waved everyone through the green channel and Delia and Rocky stepped out of the airport into the bracing, chilly November evening, Rocky wearing the navy duffle coat Delia had purchased for him two days ago. She also had one, tucked into her suitcase, which she had bought from a different shop three months ago. She wanted no connection between the two.