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house in Walton Street in Oxford.  He wanted to speak to Ruth Barrett, his medical student girlfriend who lived in a similar flat a bit further down the street but there was no answer and he correctly concluded that she must have rushed off to do some last-minute shopping before their weekend trip up to Canleigh.  He wandered into the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea.  He removed his glasses, rubbed his tired eyes and carried his mug into the tiny box serving as a living space, grimacing as he sank into the lumpy sofa.  He could easily have set himself up in comfort but hadn’t wanted to flaunt his wealth to his fellow students.  He was of the opinion it would do him good to slum it for a few years but it was an experience he wouldn't forget.

Replacing his glasses, he smiled wryly, thinking of the well-worn luxury of Canleigh and what Ruth would make of it all, and his family, especially his somewhat complicated twin, Delia.  He cringed for a second, thinking of her.  He loved her, naturally, but she was an enigma.  One never knew how she would react to anything.  She was like a ticking time bomb and he had been wary of her and what she would say or do for his whole life. He vividly remembered the tantrums when they were young children, Delia screaming at him, repeatedly.

“I hate you!” she would cry.  “It’s not fair.  Canleigh should be mine.  I’m the older twin, not you.  It’s not fair!”

The only relief Richard had from the constant nagging was when he was at school, and after he had that massive brainwave when he was thirteen and offered Canleigh to her to look after when he inherited.  His promise to her had been life changing.  The screaming fits stopped and for brief periods the twins managed to enjoy each other’s company, even though Richard sensed it was an uneasy truce.  The problem of inheritance still lurked beneath the surface. He was fully aware, and always had been, that the decision he had made was just a childish whim on both their parts and that one day he would have to buckle down and take responsibility for what was rightfully his.  He just hoped that now Delia was about to embark on a new life with Philip, all her ambitions regarding Canleigh would fade away.  He would be immensely relieved when the wedding day dawned and Delia walked down the aisle as Mrs. Kershaw.

*   *   *

Blonde-haired Ruth Barrett scurried across Oxford’s busy high street to flag down a taxi to take her back to Walton Street.  It wasn’t far to walk but she was laden down with shopping and her feet hurt from pounding the streets and shops, looking for suitable attire for the coming weekend.  She was deeply touched that Richard had invited her to visit his prestigious home in Yorkshire but was desperately nervous and prayed the two dresses, along with shoes and other bits and pieces in the fancy carrier bag she carried would be suitable for two dinners with a Duke, a Marquess and two Ladies.

“I really would like you to come, Ruth,” Richard had urged.  “My darling twin,” he said with a slight grimace, “wants all the family together for one last time before her marriage and it’s going to be all wedding talk.  It would be marvellous to have you there too and then we can sneak away and I can show you the estate; we can ride … swim and generally relax … and I think it would do you the world of good to get away from here for a short while.  You need to think about your dilemma and what you want from life without the pressure of your parents and the hospital.”

It was so kind of him but then Richard was kind.  Indeed, he was a very, very nice man.  Ruth had liked Richard from the moment she met him three years ago at the beginning of their medical training and he had been such a support to her ever since.  Ruth confided in him in their first year at Oxford that she was doubtful if medicine was what she wanted to do and the only reason she was actually there was because her parents, both General Practitioners, considered there was no other way of life and had groomed her from a small age to think along the same lines.  Having no idea of what else she wanted to do, she had gone along with it but with the two-year pre-clinical course and one year of clinical out of the way, with two more facing her, she was becoming surer by the day it wasn’t for her.  However, finding the courage to jack it in and tell her parents was going to cause a catastrophic rift.  Her heart lurched with terror just to think about it.

Richard had proved a staunch friend, helping her with her studies while listening and sympathising with her doubts and fears but that was as far as their relationship went.  There was no sparkle, no chemistry, no passion; just enjoyment of each other’s company and she was proud to call him her best friend.  He was tall, slim with dark brown hair and dark eyes and very good looking.  He had girls falling over themselves to date him but he preferred to lead a quiet life, skilfully ducking out of parties and big gatherings.  He possessed a little circle of carefully chosen male friends who were hell-bent on concentrating on their careers … and Ruth … but their friendship never went further and Ruth was content with that.  A serious relationship between them was definitely not on the cards.

Ruth had heard a lot about Canleigh and his family and while apprehensive, was looking forward to this weekend.  She had never visited Yorkshire and it would be good to stay somewhere new. 

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