“We don’t know that for sure,” replied Vicky. “It’s not completely clear that she actually engineered Richard’s murder … no-one will know for definite until the trial … and goodness knows how long it will be before that takes place … it could be months. But what I do want to know is who put up bail. It certainly wasn’t any of us … and where exactly is she now?”
“She’s clever, Vicky … damned clever. She’ll have managed to persuade some crazy person that she’s innocent, when we have a pretty good idea she’s not.”
Ruth chewed her bottom lip and thought hard. “I shall have to put Stephen’s cot in my room … and Tina will have to be told why. I don’t want Delia tricking her into thinking she’s a doting step-sister. He mustn’t be left alone, not for a moment. As you said, it could be months before there’s a trial and no doubt she will want to remain here until then. Oh, heavens. How will we cope?”
“And then there’s Daddy,” Vicky said. “How will he take the news that Delia is here? He will realise, just as we do, that she had something to do with this whole ghastly business?”
“Perhaps we better not tell him, unless he asks, that is. I don’t want to lie to him. Goodness, there is so much to think about. My head is going around in circles. So much to remember, so much to do, so much we mustn’t say.”
Panic gripped Ruth’s face and Vicky clasped her hand sympathetically. “As soon as the funeral is over and if Daddy is well enough, why don’t you get away? Take him and Stephen up to Blairness for Christmas and New Year. It will provide a perfect convalescence for Daddy and will give you a chance to relax and most of all, Stephen will be completely safe. You certainly don’t want to be here if Delia decides she does want to remain at Canleigh until the trial.”
“No, we don’t,” shuddered Ruth. She hugged Vicky. “Going to Scotland is a brilliant idea. You father needn’t even come back here. As soon as he can be discharged from hospital, I’ll whisk him straight off … and we can stay away until after the trial. By that time, he should be really well again and able to stand up to whatever stresses and strains the outcome of that will bring.”
“He’s going to hate not being able to attend Richard’s funeral.”
“I know but he’s just not fit enough to manage the trauma of his own son’s interment and with Delia here too and all the awful press coverage at the moment.”
Yet again the gates of Canleigh were locked and manned by estate workers as the press were determined to find out all they could about Margaret’s mysterious son, who just happened to have had some success in the American pop charts. Everything that could be dug up about Margaret prior to her marriage was printed for all to see; the loss of her parents, her being taken to live with her uncle and his family, her success at bagging the wealthy, handsome Duke of Canleigh as a husband. Then there was the question as to whether or not he had known about this child she had born before they met. It was obviously not his so whose was it? It became common knowledge that the couple who had brought him up were British and although they had lived in America for many years with their so-called son, they were now back in England. Then Margaret’s racketing all over the world with various fun loving, vastly wealthy people during her marriage, with long absences from Canleigh and living alone in London provided more juicy bits of gossip, resulting in the pictures of her frolicking in a London park with Simon Parfitt being printed yet again. Then there was the sensational divorce and her flight to the Caribbean, ending in her dramatic death falling down the steps to the beach and breaking her neck whilst living in little better than a shack with her lover, having spent all the divorce settlement. Finally, the press turned their attention onto Delia, her relationship with Rocky and speculation as to why she brought him to the U.K to meet Richard and of course, the double killing in Richard’s flat.
The fact that Charles had suffered a debilitating heart attack also seemed to be newsworthy and Susan Armitage and the Hardy’s were taking turns in manning the telephone twenty-four hours a day to deflect annoying calls from reaching Ruth or Vicky. Both women felt they were under siege and knew that the morning papers would also contain pictures of the hearse arriving with Richard’s coffin, which would be even more upsetting. All in all it was a pretty miserable, tense state of affairs, which was only going to get worse in the coming days with the funeral and the imminent arrival of Delia.
Ruth felt sorry for Elizabeth and George too, who were also grieving for Rocky, the child they had brought up as their own, and who were in the throes of arranging for his funeral. They too were suffering from unwelcome attention from the press and had taken refuge in Elizabeth’s father’s palatial home in Norfolk, which was more private and harder to gain entry to than their detached home in Bristol where George was now teaching at the university.
“It’s only going to get worse,” moaned Vicky. “Once Delia gets here those damned reporters will want pictures of her and they’ll probably try to get access to the estate so they can get some of the funeral. God, it’s simply ghastly. I can’t believe how everything has blown up in our faces in such a short space of time … and I’m so frightened for Daddy. Whatever happens, he mustn’t come home, Ruth. All this would kill him.”
Ruth nodded in agreement, fearing Charles’ reaction to the news that he would have to stay in hospital for at least another fortnight and miss his son’s funeral. No-one had told him yet and having discussed the situation with the Consultant, it had been decided she would be the one to tell him. She wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Actually, I was thinking … once his health has improved, we could have a simple memorial service later on … perhaps in the spring … once Delia has been dealt with.”
“That’s a good idea and will hopefully placate him.”
“Anyway, I think we had better prepare ourselves for Delia’s arrival,” grimaced Ruth, quaking at the thought of the coming meeting with her eldest stepdaughter. “I’m going to talk to Tina and tell her that while Delia is here, Stephen mustn’t be left alone for an instant. I’m probably over-reacting, indeed I hope I am but I shan’t feel easy until Delia has removed herself from Canleigh again.”
Ruth hastened up to the nursery to find Tina and then the whole household waited tensely for Delia to make an appearance that day. She didn’t arrive and there was no further word from her.
“Perhaps she’s made a bid for escape and she’s not going to come here after all,” remarked Vicky hopefully, pushing her food around her plate at dinner that evening. The beautifully cooked salmon in a white wine sauce and vegetables were delicious but she could only eat a few mouthfuls.
Ruth, recently returned from visiting Charles at the hospital, was hungry but she found it difficult to eat too. The nervous butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t go away and she seemed to be so very cold, even after having a hot bath and pulling on a thick woollen dress. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed, fall asleep and on waking in the morning find this entire dreadful trauma was nothing more than a horrible dream.
“She’ll come,” Ruth sighed. “You know she will. She’s just making her entrance more dramatic than need be. She knows we will be here, quaking in our boots.”
“How was Daddy?” asked Vicky, taking a sip of her Sauvignon Blanc.
Ruth tried to smile. Her lips moved but her eyes didn’t light up. “A little better,” she said reassuringly, not wanting to tell Vicky how upset he really was. Her visit hadn’t been a happy one. Charles had lain in his bed, still wired up to various machines, breathing harshly and looking particularly frail.
“Why Ruth? Why on earth did Delia kill Richard?” he asked. “There was no need. No damned need at all.”
“It’s not clear she actually did yet,” Ruth said, trying to soothe his anguish. “It was probably as she explained. This Rocky chap killed Richard for some unknown reason and then turned the gun on her. It was self-defence. It had to be,” she said, not believing her own words and knowing he wouldn’t either.
Charles shook his head. �
��No, Ruth. I don’t believe that version at all. She’s always been headstrong and she’s always resented Richard because of Canleigh. She would do anything to get her hands on it. I’ll never forget the way she was at that last dinner we all had together. She was evil once she knew I was handing over the estate to Richard and also hiring a new estate manager and there was no place for her in the scheme of things … but it had all been sorted before she and Philip split up. I naturally thought she would be settled at Tangles with him and that would be that … and even though she does love and cherish Canleigh, she would be bound to marry someone and move away at some point. It just wasn’t sensible to consider allowing her any responsibility for the estate … and once I handed it over to Richard, it was his decision anyway … but she was wild that night, Ruth. Bordering on crazy … and she threatened to kill us all. No, Ruth. I don’t know how she has managed it and where this Peter Percival comes into the scheme of things but she’s murdered her brother. I’m absolutely positive of it.”
Not liking the way his agitation was growing, Ruth changed the subject rapidly. “I’ve been thinking … as soon as you can be discharged, we should get away from Canleigh for a while. Let’s go up to Blairness for Christmas and New Year. I know we were going to entertain my parents and Vicky and Barrie but they will all understand … and Vicky can always join us if she wants to. We can have a lovely quiet time, reading and if the weather permits, have some walks and just enjoy being together … with Stephen of course … and then, when you are feeling much better, I thought it would be good to go abroad … get over to Italy, as we had planned? That would be really good for you.”
“You mean you want me as far away from Canleigh as possible until all this dies down and the trial is over.”
“Correct. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be around when that gets under way. It’s bad enough now with all the press attention.”
“I’m so sorry, Ruth,” Charles sighed. “I feel I’m letting you down. You’ve an awful lot to deal with at the moment and I’m of no use to you whatsoever. I should be the one there at Canleigh, in charge and looking after you all.”
“Don’t be silly. All I want is for you to get well again, as fast as possible. Vicky’s there with me and she’s a tower of strength … and the staff are simply wonderful, especially the Hardy’s and Susan Armitage. We’ll get through this. Please don’t fret.”
To Ruth’s utter relief he had taken the news that he wouldn’t be fit enough to attend the funeral surprisingly well.
“I’ve accepted that it’s out of the question that I make an appearance but I do want it recorded so I can watch it at some time in the future. Can you arrange that, darling, please?”
“Of course I will,” agreed Ruth readily. “And what do you think about having a memorial service … sometime in the spring … when you are fully fit and well again?”
Charles smiled wistfully. “That’s a lovely idea. We’ll do it. Thank you, Ruth. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
She managed to leave the hospital without mentioning Delia’s imminent arrival. He thought she was still being held by the police and Ruth wasn’t going to disillusion him. He would be even more anxious if he knew she was back at Canleigh.
But Delia didn’t turn up that day, or the next. Ruth and Vicky were kept busy with funeral arrangements, visiting Charles and keeping Tina and Stephen under surveillance but Vicky had something else she was also worried about.
“I know Barrie and I aren’t too close at the moment but he’s not bothered to contact me since I’ve been here and when I ring him, he’s unusually dismissive … he’s always too busy to talk and this morning he actually slammed the phone down.”
“Perhaps he’s missing you and doesn’t know how to deal with it … or he’s just tired. After all, he has your job to do as well as his own while you are away.”
Although she didn’t show it, Ruth was annoyed with Barrie. Vicky had a seriously ill father in hospital, her brother had just been brutally killed and her sister was accused of his murder. What was the matter with Barrie? Where was the support any caring husband would give his wife at such a time? He was utterly selfish and Ruth would tell him so when she met him again.
“No. I don’t think it’s that. Alex is an absolute brick and the two of them should be able to manage quite adequately without me. Perhaps I’ll ring Alex this evening … before the club gets too busy … I’ll get some sense out of him.”
But Vicky forgot all about ringing Alex. She accompanied Ruth to the hospital in the afternoon but on their return to Canleigh they were met by a concerned Hardy in the entrance hall.
“Lady Delia has arrived, Your Grace,” he announced with a worried frown. “She’s gone to her room. She wants to rest now but will be down for dinner.”
Vicky and Ruth looked askance at each other. They were both feeling drained and tired and now they were going to have to deal with Delia. Ruth’s stomach did a somersault and nausea threatened.
“Is Tina with Stephen?” Ruth asked quickly.
“Yes, Your Grace. They’re in the nursery.”
“Good. In that case, I’ll just pop up and see them,” she said, rushing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time, uncaring as to whether or not she looked like a dignified Duchess.
The nursery, a light, bright and airy room was an oasis of calm. Painted in a pale yellow with one wall decorated with different coloured smiling teddy bears, it was delightful. The cream furniture held all Stephen’s clothes and necessary items for a young baby, his white crib with yellow blankets and quilt was near to the teddy bear wall. By the sash window was a rocking chair in which Tina was sitting with a sleeping Stephen in her arms.
“He’s literally just gone off, Your Grace,” said Tina. “I was just about to put him down.”
Ruth took Stephen from Tina’s arms and felt a surge of deep love and a primeval need to protect her child. Whatever happened with Delia in the house, she was not going to get near Stephen and she would never be given the opportunity to harm him in any way. Ruth would die first.
“Lady Delia is here.”
“Yes, I know, Your Grace. Don’t worry. She hasn’t been up here and I haven’t left Stephen alone at all since you’ve been out.”
Ruth smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Tina. I know I can rely on you. Have a couple of hours off now. I’ll take Stephen to my room while I have a rest and change for dinner. Then you can take over again until it’s time for bed.”
Ruth took Stephen to her room, locked the door, and even checked the windows couldn’t be opened from the outside before placing the sleeping baby in Vicky’s old cot, which Hardy had found in the attic. It was right near to the bed so that Ruth only had to put out a hand and she could touch him. She lay beside him and tried to sleep but her mind was too active and her fear of Delia too real to be able to relax. An hour before dinner she stepped into the bathroom. She would have loved a good soak but a shower was quicker so she hurried through her ablutions, scared to have Stephen out of her sight for longer than absolutely necessary.
The mirror of her dressing table revealed how desperately tired and washed out she looked. Lack of sleep, worry and floods of tears had ravaged her face and aged her. A smattering of eye makeup and powder helped hide the worst and boosted her confidence a little, as did donning the green silk dress Charles loved to see her in. It would have been more seemly to wear black but not possessing an item of clothing in that colour was a bit of a problem. She would have to get into Leeds and get a few things. Taking a final glance in the mirror, Ruth shrugged her shoulders. If Delia looked her usual ravishing self and made Ruth pale into comparison, it was just too bad. Ruth was the Duchess of Canleigh and she was in charge. She had to remember that.
A gentle tap on the bedroom door made her jump nervously.
“It’s Tina, Your Grace.”
With shaking hands, Ruth opened the door and let her in, trying hard not to show how terrified she had been th
at it might have been Delia.
“Should I take Stephen back to the nursery or should I remain here, Your Grace?”
“There’s no need to disturb him. Stay here and I promise I won’t linger over dinner so that you won’t be too late home … and while I’m gone, please lock yourself in. I know you think I’m probably overreacting but just humour me, please Tina.”
Tina nodded, sensing just how uneasy and frightened Ruth was. She had a huge liking and respect for her employer and would do anything to ease her fears.
“Of course I will. Please don’t worry. Stephen will be perfectly safe up here with me. I’ll guard him as if he were my own.”
Ruth patted Tina’s shoulder gratefully and left the room, not moving down the corridor until she heard the key turn in the lock.
Vicky was already in the dining room. She looked exhausted and hadn’t even bothered with make-up, and the dark brown dress she wore did nothing to improve her pallor.
“I could do without this,” she muttered as Ruth entered the room. “I wish to God she hadn’t come.”
“Oh, don’t say that Vicky, dear. I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you all again,” drawled a voice from the doorway.
Ruth and Vicky stiffened and turned. Delia floated regally into the room, carrying a glass of gin and martini she had poured for herself in the library and sank gracefully into Charles’s chair at the head of the table, her action giving rise to her ambitions.
Her hair flowed freely over a vast amount of cleavage revealed by her low cut black sequined top, and her black silk skirt swirled around her legs as she sat down. Sex appeal was paramount and Ruth watched in fascination. She had forgotten how stunningly beautiful Delia was.
“Well, do sit down girls … and where the devil is Hardy? I’m simply famished. Christ, this place has gone to pot since I left.”
Ruth bit her lip and forced back a sharp retort. Delia was not going to make her angry if she could help it. She was the Duchess of Canleigh. She turned over the gold wedding band on her finger and played with her engagement ring, thinking longingly of Charles, languishing in hospital. How she needed him here now. She felt quite out of her depth as she took her seat at the table.
Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) Page 50