Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama), Carole Williams [ebook reader 8 inch .TXT] 📗

Delia smiled.  Granny was right.  There were many similar instances Delia could remember.  So many poor dejected creatures turned up but with Anne’s careful care they looked healthy and bonny within a few weeks and were then ready to be moved on to new and carefully selected homes.  Anne worked tirelessly to help any creature in distress and Delia would do anything to help, also possessing a deep love for animals and could never begin to understand the neglect or abuse some of them had suffered.  It made Delia very angry when she saw the sorry state of many of those rescued from appalling conditions but Granny had taught her that to feel such fury was all very well but emotions were better channelled into educating people and campaigning for improved animal welfare legislation.

“Are you okay, Granny?” Delia asked, looking at Anne.  She was unusually pale this morning and looked very tired.

“Yes, darling.  Just a bit weary.  Don’t fuss.  The meeting with the RSPCA and the Rescued Horse Trust last night went on far longer than we intended.  I shall wander up to the Hall with the dogs and have coffee with your father in a minute and that will revive me.”

“Well, take it easy today, Granny.  Put your feet up for once,” Delia urged, worried that the older woman was doing too much.  Granny had suffered a couple of mini-strokes recently, one just after New Year’s Eve and then another just a month ago but her indomitable spirit wouldn’t let anything, let alone ill health, prevent her doing anything she wanted to do.

“Good heavens, child.  I have no time to sit around doing nothing.  There’s too much to be done.”

“Oh, Granny, you are incorrigible,” sighed Delia, planting another kiss on Anne’s cheek, seeing Hardy waving at her and pointing at his watch.

“I shall have to go or I shall be late.”

“Yes, you better.  Hardy is going to explode in a minute if you don’t get a move on,” replied Anne with a weary smile.  She raised a hand to the butler in acknowledgement.

Delia dashed back to the car and leapt inside.  Hardy started the engine and they moved off, Delia waving at Anne, who waved back before turning up the lane towards the Hall, all three dogs trotting quietly at her side.

“Is Father in a good mood today, Hardy?” asked Delia suddenly, settling back into her seat.  She rarely met her father at breakfast as he was usually swimming when she was rushing through her toilette and eating the cornflakes sent up to her room.  No amount of cajoling or persuasion could make her sit down in the dining room for a formal meal at that time of day.

“Reasonable, I would say, Milady.  Reasonable.”

“Good.  I hope it stays that way.  I want to ask him if I could stay at home for the summer holidays this year.”

“And not go to Blairness?” said Hardy with surprise.

“Well, I do love it up there but Velvet’s foal is due in August.  Remember … it’s that pregnant mare Colonel Kershaw discovered dumped in one of his fields a while ago.  She’s absolutely gorgeous, ever so soft and gentle and I really don’t want to miss her foal being born.  Philip wants to be there too so it would be far better if we could both stay here this year … or maybe go up to Blairness once the foal arrives.”

“I should imagine His Grace will be reluctant to leave you at Canleigh, Milady.  You know how he likes all the family together in the holidays,” Hardy warned.

“I know but I’m sure he’ll understand.  I’ve mentioned it to the Kershaws and they are willing to put me up at Tangles.  It’ll be brilliant.  Philip and I can ride all day every day and help out at the stables.  It will be perfect,” she said her eyes shining in anticipation.  “Surely Father can’t have any real objections.”

“You can only ask, Milady.  You can only ask.”

As the car entered the Harrogate suburbs Delia spoke again, wistfully.

“Philip’s so lucky.  He has grandparents who idolise him and he’ll eventually inherit lovely old Tangles with all the land and all the horses.  It will all be his with no disputes.  It must be so nice, to be so secure, to know exactly where your future lies.”

Knowing of Delia’s tantrums when she was younger because Lord Richard was going to own Canleigh rather than her, Hardy felt a wave of sympathy.

“I suppose it must … but count your blessings, Lady Delia.  You have your parents. Unlike poor Master Philip who lost both his in that dreadful motorbike accident when he was still a baby.”

Hardy remembered the shock and horror of that dreadful time well.  The Kershaws were well known far and wide and although the weather was bad and made travel difficult, the funeral held at the St. Mary’s for their precious son and daughter in law had standing room only.  As there were too many people in attendance for Tangles to cater for, Charles had also offered the ballroom in the Hall for the wake.  Hardy had been on duty that day and the sorrow felt for the family had been paramount although it was heart-warming to see the support and warmth surrounding the Kershaws and their tiny grandson, who thankfully was too young at the time to be aware of the tragic circumstances.  The village had been in mourning for weeks; the churchyard where the young popular couple were buried was smothered with flowers and it wasn’t until that following spring when the weather improved, the lambs kicked up their heels in the fields and the daffodils shone brightly in the sunshine that the mood began to lift.

“Yes, I know, Hardy,” Delia sighed.  “And I do feel sorry for Philip but he never really knew his parents and