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

by Carole Williams

  Philip took a sip of coffee from his mug with a picture of a rearing black horse on the side. It reminded him of Demon, who was now back at Canleigh. Perkins had rung Tangles the evening before last to announce Delia was home and wished to have Demon returned to the Canleigh stables. With trepidation in case Delia was around, Philip had ridden him over and then Perkins had kindly driven him back to Tangles. Nervous of meeting Delia again, Philip was relieved to get back onto his own land. His marriage with Sue had proved strong and they still loved each other passionately but it was certainly much easier with Delia out of the way. Now she was back it was going to be different. Sue was wary and jealous of her and Philip was … Philip didn’t know how he felt about Delia … or about what had occurred in Richard’s flat. It was all very peculiar. Why had Delia been in America all this time with this person they were saying was Margaret’s illegitimate son? Why had she brought him back to England and to Richard’s flat? And what really went on? Philip knew how Delia resented Richard and although he hadn’t been at Canleigh on the night Delia flounced out after a huge row with Richard and their father, he heard rumours that she had threatened to kill them and knowing Delia as he did, it did make him wonder. At that time she was reeling from the shock of their broken engagement so to be denied her ambition of running Canleigh only days afterwards must have been a terrible blow. She must have been so devastated and Philip still felt guilty for the part he had played in her misery. He wasn’t looking forward to meeting her again, especially with the question hanging over her as to whether she had something to do with Richard’s death. But he would know. As soon as he looked into her eyes, he would know the truth. Delia could never lie to him.

  * * *

  The day was suitably grey and depressing. A light rain drizzled on and off, the dark clouds swirled overhead ominously and it was dreadfully cold. Ruth awoke with a crushing sense of depression. Stephen was sleeping deeply in his crib beside her. She threw her duvet off, rolled out of bed and stood for a second, looking down at her darling son. He looked so angelic; his little body, relaxed in sleep. She badly wanted to pick him up and have a cuddle but there was no point in disturbing him yet. Moving quietly across the room, she unlocked the door that led to her sitting room and went straight to the window at the far end. She could see the church across the lawns. During the summer it was hidden from view by the dense leaf-laden trees but now they were bare it was possible to see it clearly. The vicar’s car was already there. No doubt he was turning the heating was on and doing last minute checks to make sure the ceremony later that morning would go well. Ruth had popped over yesterday when the flowers had been delivered and were being arranged. The church looked beautiful. Masses of white roses, lilies, and chrysanthemums adorned the nave and chancel. The order of service cards had been delivered and would be given out to guests as they arrived. Outside, a plot had been dug for Richard’s coffin next to his grandfather and grandmother. It was all so very sad and Ruth wished Charles could have been here with her today. It was so awful for him, to have to remain at the hospital and although she had arranged with the funeral director to have the requested recording made, it wouldn’t be the same.

  The funeral was at eleven o’clock. It would take around an hour and then guests were to be given a buffet lunch in the ballroom. Around a hundred people were expected, many of Richard’s fellow students, staff from the Radcliffe Infirmary, at least those who could be spared; old school friends of Richard, friends of Charles, many of whom Ruth had never met, villagers who had known Richard all his life and of course, the estate and household staff. Security guards would be at the main gates and other entrances to the estate to make sure that only bone fide guests were allowed to enter but Ruth had no doubt that somewhere and somehow, the press would manage to sneak in and take photographs. The Canleigh family were hot news at the present.

  The day turned out to be a long one. More people turned up than expected and the church was packed. Hardy, with his wife Betty in the front seat of the Rolls beside him, drove Ruth, Vicky and Delia to the church to save them from getting wet. All three wore black coats, dresses, and high-heeled shoes. Vicky and Ruth had donned smart hats but Delia chose a black veil, hiding her face from onlookers and adding to the air of mystery and speculation. No-one spoke in the car on the short ride and Ruth was glad to alight and shake the hand of the vicar who was waiting to greet them outside the church.

  As Ruth, followed by Vicky and Delia, moved up the aisle to their seat at the front, the pews behind already filled with their guests, she couldn’t help noticing that although she and Vicky were greeted with sympathetic smiles and nods, everyone stared openly at Delia and she wondered how many believed Delia had killed her brother.

  The coffin was beneath the pulpit, with a simple wreath made up of greenery from various parts of the grounds and lovingly prepared earlier by estate gardeners, resting on top. A picture of a smiling Richard on an easel stood beside it. Vicky sat on one side of Ruth and Delia the other. Vicky, bereft, with her marriage in tatters and without a doting husband to support her, cried quietly, dabbing frequently at her eyes with her handkerchief. Delia sat silently, not even singing the hymns and Ruth wondered, gazing at the beautiful stained-glass windows above the alter and to either side of the nave, whether the real reason her step daughter was wearing a veil was because she didn’t want anyone to see her secret smiles. As for Ruth, she just felt horribly heartbroken for Charles, in his hospital bed, thinking about what was going on here. It was agonising, imagining his pain.

  The ceremony over, the mourners filed outside to the graveyard for the interment. The rain had stopped, almost as if on order, but threatened to start again as they filed out of the gate afterwards. Ruth noticed Philip Kershaw, keeping as much distance as he could from Delia. He was alone and she wondered why his wife hadn’t joined him.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said quietly, edging closer to him. “I know it can’t have been easy … with Delia here. Will you be coming back to the Hall?”

  Philip looked at her. They had been introduced when Ruth had first moved to Canleigh and he and Sue had been invited to her wedding. She was a charming woman and he liked her very much. He hoped Delia wouldn’t give her too much of a hard time.

  “No. I don’t think it would be wise but thank you anyway. And may I ask how the Duke is? I do hope he is improving. He must be devastated not to have been here today.”

  “He’s heartbroken … but at least he’s getting better … slowly … and as soon as I can I shall be taking him up to Blairness to recover. Delia …,” she looked at him almost apologetically, “Delia is going to remain at Canleigh until her trial … and I don’t want Charles to be under any more stress than need be.”

  “I think that’s a very good idea, Your Grace.”

  Ruth placed a hand on his arm. “Please Philip. Just call me Ruth. This ‘Your Grace’ business can be very off-putting.”

  Philip smiled warmly and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I shall be delighted to do so. Thank you, Ruth.”

  Ruth smiled warmly back but a movement in the corner of her eye made her turn. Delia was still standing beside Richard’s grave but she had pushed her veil back and was staring hard at Ruth and Philip. Her gaze was perfectly evil and Ruth felt a shudder run through her body and it was nothing to do with the cold of the day.

  Philip hadn’t noticed, nodded goodbye and moved to his car for the journey back to Tangles. Hardy was holding open the rear door of the Rolls with Betty Hardy and Vicky already inside. Ruth joined them and Delia followed, replacing her veil. The atmosphere in the car was dark and foreboding. Ruth looked back at the church as they pulled away to see a few mourners getting into cars but the majority were walking over to the Hall looking like a mass of black ants in their mourning attire.

  The next couple of hours were spent entertaining their guests and listening to stories of Richard’s progress through school and his time in Oxford. No-one had a bad word to say about him
, not that they would at his funeral, but Ruth began to grow tired of hearing just what a wonderful person he was. What would they have said if she told them he had nearly raped her down in the kitchens below them and how savage his temper could be if he couldn’t get his own way? Just like Delia, who had refused to join the throng of mourners in the ballroom, disappeared up to her room and changed into riding attire. Ruth had seen her, out of the window, walking quickly down to the stables and was appalled by her complete lack of manners, hoping that no-one else would notice and ask where she was.

  It was with huge relief that Ruth and Vicky waved everyone off later in the afternoon. Minutes afterwards, Delia returned, dishevelled and unkempt, splattered with mud and her hair in disarray and walked up the front steps just as Derek Rathbone, the family’s solicitor, arrived to read Richard’s will.

  “Don’t mind me,” said Delia, as they all looked aghast at her appearance and she kicked off her boots in the entrance hall. “I don’t want to keep you all waiting while I change so let’s get on with it.” She turned and strode into the library in her socks.

  There were no surprises in the will. A few small bequests to members of staff, a handsome gift to the Radcliffe Infirmary and a considerable sum to Vicky. But the majority of Richard’s wealth was to go to Delia, although before Rathbone left Canleigh he drew Delia aside and made it quite plain she wouldn’t receive a penny of her inheritance unless she was vindicated at the trial. Until then it would be frozen.

  The atmosphere in the house the following day bordered on the explosive. Ruth did her utmost to avoid Delia, she and Vicky resorting to eating meals in Ruth’s sitting room. Vicky knew she was going to have to return to London at some point but was reluctant to face Barrie and didn’t want to leave Ruth and Stephen alone with Delia until they could get away to Blairness. When Delia wasn’t out with Demon, she was drinking too much, either in her room or in the library and if her path crossed that of Vicky and Ruth, they received nothing but sinister smiles.

  Then Ruth finally received the news she had been waiting for. Charles was well enough to leave hospital and could travel, albeit at a leisurely pace. Plans were immediately set in place to journey up to Scotland, cases were packed, and phone calls made to the staff at Blairness to prepare for their arrival. Ruth was going to drive Charles, Stephen and Tina in the Rolls with much of their luggage being sent up by rail. Taking a baby anywhere, Ruth discovered, entailed an awful lot of extra baggage. She was grateful Tina had decided to accompany them and would stay with them throughout most of December, returning to her family for Christmas and New Year and then re-join them at Blairness in January. A trial date for Delia had been set in March so it wouldn’t be too long before they could all return to Canleigh because Delia would be sent to prison, Ruth was sure of that.

  Delia was nowhere to be seen on the morning of their departure from Canleigh. No doubt she was out riding again and had no wish to say goodbye. Vicky and Ruth were relieved. They didn’t want to speak to her if they could possibly help it.

  Vicky departed Canleigh for her return to London an hour before Ruth was due to leave and collect Charles from the hospital. She looked extremely tired and worried but tried hard to mask her misery as the two women said farewell.

  “If it gets too bad, please come up to Blairness and stay with us,” Ruth urged. “You don’t have to stay in an unhappy marriage, Vicky.”

  “I know. Thank you. But I must go back and find out exactly what’s been going on. I’ll never get a straight answer from Delia and doubt whether I will from Barrie but I have to face it sometime and the sooner the better.”

  Ruth watched Vicky get into her treasured little sports car and waved as she drove away down the drive. Ruth was going to miss her terribly. Vicky had been a marvellous support during the family crisis and it was a wrench to see her go, looking lost and lonely and having to tackle her errant husband over his familiarity with Delia. How could he do that to Vicky? She was so kind and lovely. She didn’t deserve a rat like Barrie.

  Ruth turned as Hardy drove the Rolls up from the garage and pulled up on the gravel beside her. He jumped out smartly.

  “Perkins has given it a thoroughly good going over, Your Grace. You won’t have any problems with it.”

  Ruth smiled. “Thank you, Hardy. Well, we had better get going then. I’ll go and fetch Tina and Stephen.”

  An hour later with Tina and Stephen safely tucked up on the back seat, Ruth turned to the Hardy’s standing on the front steps.

  “Don’t hesitate to call me if there are any problems,” she said, knowing they were well aware she was referring to Delia.

  “We’ll manage, Your Grace. Don’t forget we’ve known and looked after Lady Delia for many years. You just concentrate on getting His Grace well and we’ll look forward to welcoming you all home again,” replied Hardy graciously.

  Ruth smiled and shook their hands. She had become very fond of the Hardy’s but they weren’t getting any younger. Hardy was beginning to suffer from arthritis in his spine and Betty’s eyes were playing her up. Ruth hoped Delia wouldn’t give them a hard time.

  The traffic was busy that morning and it took Ruth nearly three-quarters of an hour to thread her way through the Leeds traffic in order to park near the entrance to the hospital. She enjoyed driving the Rolls, having practised a bit around the estate over the last few days but parking wasn’t her forte and without Tina to guide her into a space, she might have been much longer about it.

  When Ruth entered Charles’s room, he was sitting in the chair by his bed dressed in his favourite brown corduroy trousers and bottle green angora sweater with his tweed jacket laid across his lap.

  “I’m so pleased to see you, darling,” he said, his eyes twinkling merrily. “And even more pleased to be leaving here.”

  “Now, Your Grace. I can’t think what you mean,” grinned Sister Albright, following Ruth. “You will really miss our care. You know you will.”

  Charles grinned back. “Yes, you’re probably right, Sister. You’ve all been pretty marvellous and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.”

  “You are more than welcome, Your Grace. Now you both have a lovely rest up in Scotland. Don’t try to do too much too soon and don’t forget your medication.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, Sister. I’m going to monitor his every move,” laughed Ruth, so pleased they were able to be together again and away from the dreadful atmosphere at Canleigh. Her heart felt lighter than it had for weeks as they went down the ground floor in the lift and Charles got into the passenger seat of the Rolls after saying hello to Tina and kissing a sleeping Stephen. In the daylight, away from the hospital lights, he looked quite well, although a little weak and weary, but Ruth knew that the fresh Scottish air would soon have him looking really fit and healthy again.

  “It’s wonderful to be with you, my dear,” Charles murmured so that Tina couldn’t hear. “And now we’re going to enjoy a fabulously beautiful winter in Scotland with all that snow. The scenery will be absolutely splendid and it will be a wonderful opportunity for you to take up your painting again if you wish. Oh, Ruth,” he sighed. “I’m so looking forward to this.”

  Ruth smiled widely as she started the Rolls and pulled out of the hospital car park. Her spirits were soaring now her precious little family were well out of harm’s way.

  * * *

  Delia had ridden Demon hard that morning. They had galloped across the estate, cantered through the woods and then trotted through the village. Delia had wondered whether to pop into the Canleigh Arms for a drink but thought better of it. There was every possibility some lurking member of the press would be around. Most had cleared off to chase other news since the funeral but now and again one would turn up on the off chance they might find an interesting snippet about the goings on at the Hall.

  She left Demon in the field near to the stables, checked the Rolls and Vicky’s silly little sports car were missing from the garage and smiled broa
dly as she walked back to the Hall. She finally had Canleigh to herself. Her snivelling sister and her pathetic stepmother, with her sprog in tow, had gone and wouldn’t be back for a long time. She had carte blanche to do as she liked … until March. Until her trial. But she wasn’t going to think about that for now. She had a few months in which to enjoy Canleigh. Enjoy Demon … and if things went her way … to enjoy Philip.

  Delia’s heart had missed a beat when she saw him at the funeral … and without his wife, which was interesting. It was when the family were following the coffin down the aisle for the burial in the churchyard that she spotted him, glad she was wearing the veil so no-one could see her face light up at the sight of him. He was as handsome as she remembered and there was no other man to match him in her eyes. All the stupid dalliances she had endured during her time away from Canleigh paled into insignificance. He was simply gorgeous … and she couldn’t wait for the moment they would be one again. She badly wanted to speak to him after the burial, having the excuse that she wanted to thank him properly for looking after Demon during the time she was away … and if she could, find out where his wife was but Ruth had got there first. Delia had watched the pair talking … and touching. How dare that woman put a hand on him? Surely she hadn’t designs on him while her husband was incapacitated in hospital? Delia felt an overwhelming urge to rush over and push them apart but stood rooted to the spot beside Richard’s grave, her veil whisked back so she could send a look of pure hatred at Ruth as she glanced her way. Ruth had looked surprised and turned away quickly. Philip hadn’t noticed and followed Ruth out of the churchyard, jumped into his car and drove off in the direction of Tangles. Delia had been sorely disappointed he didn’t join them at the Hall for refreshments, although it was a good sign he was alone, which gave her hope that things weren’t all as they should be with his marital relationship, as surely his wife would have accompanied him to a neighbours’ funeral. Still, he would keep. She had a few months to work her charms on him. Until then she had Barrie to keep sweet. At that particular moment, he was her only friend in the world … and she had to admit that at least the sex was good.