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

by Carole Williams

  “I know how they helped when Charles died,” she advised. “You need them. Just for tonight, at least … I’ll make you a hot drink and then you can go up to bed and take some. Believe me. It will help, just a little.”

  Exhausted and drained he did as Ruth suggested. She gave him ample time to undress and get into bed and then went up with a mug of hot chocolate. He looked sunk in despair in the big bed by himself; a man who utterly desolate, grieving sorely for the person who had shared his life so completely.

  “Ruth … I don’t want to be alone. Please. Would you stay with me until I go to sleep? It won’t be long,” he said tiredly. “I’m shattered … and those pills will no doubt soon work their magic.”

  There wasn’t a chair in the room so Ruth had no choice but to sit on the bed beside him, still dressed in her black silk mourning dress, pearls around her throat and in her ears. At first, she felt uncomfortable and ill at ease but Philip put out his hand and placed it over hers. It felt good. Warm and dry. Almost … almost like Charles. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was him. Oh God, the pain washed over her. She still missed him so much and knew just how Philip felt. Without thinking she nestled closer to him so that their heads were touching. He put his arm around her and drew her close.

  “Thank you so much, Ruth. You’ve been absolutely wonderful,” he murmured. His eyes closed and his breathing deepened. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

  * * *

  In their mutual grief, Ruth and Philip leant on each heavily over the coming months. Having drifted into the routine of being at Tangles every afternoon, Ruth found it difficult to keep away so she popped in frequently to make sure Philip had a decent meal on the table most nights during the week. She liked to cook and didn’t get the opportunity at Canleigh so found real pleasure in baking bread and searching out vegetarian recipes other than nut roast as being a devoted animal lover, Philip had given up on meat many years ago. As Vicky had given Ruth a number of lectures regarding the appalling cruelty animals suffered in the abattoirs in order for humans to eat their flesh, Ruth decided it was time to give vegetarianism her full attention. Discovering she had a real liking for many of the dishes, meat became something of a rarity at Canleigh too.

  Ruth often took Stephen over to Tangles. Philip found pleasure in his company, it being a matter of deep regret that he and Sue hadn’t managed to have children. He offered to teach Stephen to ride, having a couple of sturdy Shetland ponies in his stables for the tiny children’s first lessons and Stephen took to it like a duck to water, grinning from ear to ear as he trotted around the indoor ring on a beautiful little chestnut pony called Dusty.

  There were no horses in the stables at Canleigh any longer. Perkins had long since retired so there was no-one to look after them anyway. Charles had given Star and Dolly, who had belonged to Delia and Richard when they were young, to Philip. Both ponies were getting on in years but were useful for the more nervous riders who frequented Philip’s stables. Samson and Delilah, the tiny Shetlands Richard and Delia had learnt to ride on, had been put down once the real sufferings of old age had set in and their quality of life became impaired. Demon resided permanently at Tangles as Philip was the only person who could handle him. The horse was still exceedingly temperamental and hard to handle and Ruth made sure she kept well out of the way of his stable if he was in and didn’t go anywhere near his field if he was turned out.

  It was strange to think that after two hundred years or more of the Canleigh stables being crammed with horses, they were now empty … and there was no longer any need for a chauffeur either. Ruth had dispensed with the Rolls, feeling it was too grand and cumbersome, and as her little Fiat was a bit small if she wanted a day out with Stephen and Tina, she sold that too and bought a nice Audi estate car, which fitted the bill nicely.

  Although she did love Philip’s Volvo. He tried hard to keep it clean and tidy inside but invariably it smelt of dogs and horses, which she didn’t mind it at all. It was synonymous with him. It was all he was about. Animals and the countryside. Honest and reliable. A solid man. A rock … not unlike Charles but younger and with masses of energy. Charles, before that awful heart attack, had been active with his walking and swimming but Philip was something else. He rode for hours every day, accompanying pupils on long hacks or teaching in the arena. He never seemed to stop, up early and even after returning home to Tangles for an evening meal, would go out again until it was dusk. Ruth understood his need to be out of the house. She had felt the same when Charles died. It was all part of the grieving process.

  But they had come through it, together, spending more and more time in each other’s company, leaning on each other for support and comfort, each knowing how the other felt. Their deep friendship grew gradually until they knew they loved each other. It wasn’t anything like a lightning bolt from heaven, but a gradual process of mutual understanding and contentment together. It was a love that would last and they were both happier than they had been for a very long time. Charles and Sue would never be forgotten but they were in the past and there was still a future to be lived.

  “Are we nearly there, Mummy?” came a weary little voice from the rear of the car.

  “Yes, darling. We won’t be long,” replied Ruth, smiling at Stephen, who had woken with a jolt, as Philip had to put on the brakes sharply because of a cat charging across the road in front of them. They were out of Leeds now, heading up the Harrogate road towards Canleigh and it would only be minutes before they were home.

  “Well, Prudence won’t need to worry about producing much food this evening. I think we are all full after our afternoon out.” Ruth grinned.

  “I love Pru,” Stephen said loudly. “She promised strawberry ice cream when we get home.”

  “Oh, did she?” smiled Ruth. “I think you’ve probably had enough to eat for a little while, young man.”

  “She was a brilliant find,” remarked Philip. “Much better than that poncy French chef you hired.”

  Ruth laughed. She had to agree. Two years ago, the cook who had worked at Canleigh for nearly as long as the Hardy’s, retired and on a recommendation from Louis, the estate manager, Ruth hired Francoise, who was Louis’ cousin and a fully qualified chef, desperate to gain experience working in the United Kingdom. However, Ruth had never really taken to the man and was quite relieved when he decided to return to France a few months later, making no bones about the fact that he was bored rigid, having expected the Duchess to entertain far more than she did.

  Betty Hardy had been Ruth’s saviour, recommending Prudence, who lived in Canleigh village. She had been cook to an Earl and Countess for many years and left to nurse her elderly mother who had recently died. Prudence wanted to return to cooking and welcomed the prospect of catering for the recently bereaved Duchess and her young son, the new Duke. Her meals were perfect. Nothing was too much trouble and Stephen was always begging to be allowed to visit the kitchen, much to Tina’s annoyance as invariably he would indulge in something sticky and his hands and face would have to be cleaned.

  Ruth couldn’t imagine life without Tina. Hiring her had been the best decision Ruth ever made. She was marvellous with Stephen. He, and all his little pals who came to play occasionally, absolutely adored her sweet, kind nature, although she could be firm enough when needed and would stand no nonsense from any of them if they played up. That Tina loved her work was apparent and Ruth knew whatever happened, she would walk over coals to make sure Stephen was safe and happy. Ruth often thought about what Tina would want to do when Stephen was old enough to go to school and didn’t require a nanny any longer. Ruth didn’t want to lose her and wondered if she could make use of her talents in other ways. She would have to think about it seriously, as time was ticking on and it wouldn’t be that long before Stephen commenced his school days. Although he wouldn’t be going to boarding school at any time in the future. Ruth was determined on that. She would find a suitable school where he could be a day pupil.

 
; So, Canleigh ticked on. Prudence was in charge of the kitchen, the Hardy’s in charge of the house and Susan Armitage looked after the correspondence, and Ruth couldn’t imagine Canleigh without any of them. Anderson, once his hands had healed from the fire Delia caused, had decided to move down to London to work. As Ruth was fully aware the Hardy’s were not getting any younger, although they assured her that now there was only herself and the young Duke to look after, they wouldn’t be thinking of retiring anytime soon, she insisted they have some help. An advertisement was placed in The Lady magazine for an under-butler and an assistant housekeeper, and interviews would take place in a couple of weeks.

  With the house well catered for as regards to staff, that left the estate to worry about. Louis, the Frenchman whom Charles had appointed when Dick Joyce retired, was giving Ruth cause for concern and the problem was becoming larger and more worrying as time went on.

  Louis had fitted in well while Charles was alive and Ruth had often come across the two of them chattering non-stop in French as Charles appreciated the opportunity of keeping his language skills alive but since Ruth was left to run the estate on her own, she had found Louis to be too laid back for her liking. Sometimes he was impossible to find for hours on end and when she did, as her French was diabolical and Louis’s English nearly as bad, communication was generally difficult and it was virtually impossible to receive a satisfactory answer to her questions.

  The suspicion that all was not as it should be begun to take root. So far, Ruth had kept her thoughts on the subject to herself but knew it was something that couldn’t be overlooked for long, especially as Louis also gave her the creeps. He was a middle-aged man of medium height with brown hair, a long, sharp nose and a square face. His hazel eyes seemed to find it difficult to focus on hers when they spoke and he appeared shifty and ill at ease. She was also positive from the expressions on his face when he did speak to her that he was poking fun at her, or even being sarcastic and it made her feel most uncomfortable. Yes. She was going to have to do something about him. Perhaps it would be a good idea to ask Philip for advice but she knew what he would say. Get rid of him … and she should … but then she had to find somebody else.

  As the Volvo turned into Canleigh, the parkland looked simply splendid in glorious summer colours. The trees were all out, their branches full of beautiful green leaves fluttering in the breeze, the rhododendrons were over for now but their dark green leaves were shiny and glossy in the summer sunshine. The vast lawns had recently been mown and the smell was heaven as it wafted through the open car windows but all this paled into insignificance as the Hall came into view. Ruth’s heart stood still and her hands turned to ice at the sight of the red Ferrari parked ominously on the gravel.

  “You’ve got a visitor,” remarked Philip, smiling down at Ruth, thinking how pretty she looked now her hair had been cut very short, almost in a crew cut. The style flattered her slim face and made her look younger.

  “I don’t know if I can deal with this,” Ruth muttered, not wanting Stephen to overhear. He was trying to unfasten his child seat strap as the car drew to a halt, excited at the thought of a visitor and in a tearing hurry to get out of the car.

  “Why? You don’t know who it is,” laughed Phillip, wondering why she was so agitated.

  “The number plate,” she whispered. Her hands were trembling. One second, she was freezing. The next she was hot. She felt sick. She wanted to tell Philip to turn the car around and drive away, as fast as they could and never come back. She was terrified

  “Just look at the number plate. DEL 1. It’s Delia.”

  “Oh, hell,” said Philip, his blood turning to water. What on earth was Delia doing back here? Whatever reason it was, it wouldn’t be good for any of them. “I think you’re right, Ruth. What do you want to do? We can always go back to Tangles for now and hopefully she will leave or if you want to go in, I’ll come with you. I’m not going to allow her to bully or intimidate you.”

  Ruth gulped, vividly remembering Charles’ words to her. “Don’t allow Delia to return to Canleigh. Under any circumstances. She is evil.” She had to be brave now and pull herself together, for Stephen’s sake. He mustn’t sense anything was wrong.

  “No. I don’t think so, thank you. If it is her, it’s best I see her alone … you know how she felt about you. I’ll get rid of her as quickly as I can and then I’ll ring you … let you know what she wants.”

  She got out of the car, opened the rear door, and with shaking hands helped Stephen unfasten the belt on his car seat. “There. It’s free now,” she said, trying not to show her son how nervous she was. “I’m not sure where Tina is at the moment so I’ll take you straight down to the kitchen to see Prudence and then she can find Tina for you.”

  “But … Mummy … I want to see the visitor … and look at that lovely car,” Stephen whined.

  “Not now, darling. Surely the strawberry ice cream is much more important.”

  “Oh, goody. I thought I couldn’t have any,” he yelled, shooting up the steps as fast as his little legs could carry him, ran past Hardy who had opened the front door and disappeared towards the stairs to the kitchen.

  “Bye. I’ll ring you later,” Ruth said to Philip, not daring to kiss him in case Delia was watching out of a window.

  “Make sure you do … and Ruth … be careful. If you need me, ring me and I’ll come right back.”

  Ruth watched him drive away and turned to Hardy, her stomach churning horribly.

  “It’s Lady Delia, I’m afraid, Your Grace,” he said sombrely, confirming her suspicion. “She arrived about half an hour ago. I had asked her to wait in the library but she doesn’t appear to be there now.”

  Ruth nodded and walked up the steps and into the entrance hall, blinking briskly, trying to accustom her eyes from bright sunshine to dimmer light, horrified to see Stephen teetering at the top of the steps to the kitchen with Delia standing by his side.

  “Stephen, will you please go downstairs to Prudence,” Ruth ordered more sharply than she intended.

  “But Mummy … I want to talk to this nice lady.”

  “Downstairs! Now!” Ruth’s voice rose, goaded by Delia’s sarcastic smile.

  Stephen hurried down the stairs, his little face puckered as if he was going to cry. He could never remember Mummy speaking to him like that before and it frightened him. He couldn’t wait to get to the safety of the nice, warm kitchen where Prudence would make a huge fuss of him. He didn’t like Mummy very much at the moment.

  “I see you’ve a new boyfriend, Ruth, dear. You don’t waste much time. Father ….”

  Ruth stiffened and straightened her back, ready for battle, wondering if Delia had realised it was Philip and if so, how she would react.

  “Your father died three years ago, Delia. I loved him more than you’ll ever know and there’s not a day goes by without me wishing he was still here … but life goes on.”

  Surprisingly, Delia’s mocking smile disintegrated as Ruth turned and headed for the library, leaving Delia to follow, and Hardy to disappear discreetly down to the kitchens.

  “Yes. I know … and I’m sorry,” Delia uttered.

  Shocked at Delia’s unexpected apology, Ruth turned and studied her. Delia was dressed in a white sleeveless-blouse and black-flared trousers. On her feet, she wore a pair of flat black canvas shoes. Acutely aware of Ruth’s scrutiny, Delia pulled her hair across the right side of her face but not before Ruth had seen the long scar that was just visible. A good attempt to disguise it with makeup hadn’t quite done the job and for an instant, Ruth felt sorry for her. She waved a hand at one of the sofas next to the fireplace. “Sit down, Delia … and tell me why you’re here.”

  “I’ve come to apologise.”

  Ruth’s mouth opened to deliver a sharp retort but one glance at Delia’s expression made her stop.

  “I want to make amends, Ruth. I know this must seem highly unlikely after the way I behaved in the past but it’s the truth and
I hope you’ll believe me.”

  Ruth, baffled by this turn of events and on her guard couldn’t think what to say.

  “I was a stupid, ignorant young woman. Jealousy got the better of me and I’ve done some pretty dreadful things but I’ve changed, Ruth. I’ve turned over a new leaf. Really. The accident here … and having Lucy … it all made me realise what a selfish, stupid person I was. So, I’ve finally grown up and am putting Lucy first.”

  Ruth was quick to note the change of tone when Delia mentioned the daughter who had changed her life and made the sun shine again.

  “Ah, yes. Lucy,” Ruth muttered, remembering how just over two years ago a card had arrived at the Hall announcing that Lucy Canleigh had made her appearance into the world. Vicky had to know but it couldn’t have come at a better time. Only the week before, Alex had rushed her off to a registry office in London and then they departed for a long honeymoon in the Seychelles. Ruth telephoned Alex and let him break the news to Vicky, knowing that if anyone could take her mind off it, he could. Naturally, Vicky hadn’t been overjoyed but Alex refused to allow her to dwell on it. They were ecstatically happy and with the club more than able to provide the finance and freedom required, they were now busy making a home in a sprawling Georgian house on the outskirts of London, intending to adopt as many children as the authorities would allow.

  Delia was still talking and Ruth listened gravely, wondering what was in store. This contrite and self-reproachful Delia was so unexpected and more to the point, was she genuine?

  “I want you to understand, Ruth,” Delia continued, her voice low and controlled. “Things haven’t been easy. Oh, I know I only have myself to blame but now I’ve someone else to consider. I love Lucy dearly and I want, above all things, to make her life a good one. She means the world to me and I don’t want her turning out anything like the way I did.”

  “That’s certainly commendable but why have you come to me?” asked Ruth warily.