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

face.  He did love her, in his way, but he was tired and wasn’t in the mood for making important decisions … and it was only an engagement.  She said herself they needn’t get married for a long time.

“Okay,” he answered slowly.  “If it will make you happy.  We can go into Leeds on Saturday and get you an engagement ring.”  His parents had left him well provided for when they died and he had barely touched the insurance money so would be able to buy something decent.

Delia twirled the ring again, remembering that night vividly.  She had been in seventh heaven when Philip slipped it on her finger a few days later but then it had taken another three long years to get him to agree to a date for the wedding.  The sad death of Ralph and then Constance had overshadowed any hope of a joyous day for quite some time but a year to the day of Constance’s funeral when Philip still hadn’t helped her make a decision, her patience wore thin.  He continually made excuses, ruling out this month and that due to business commitments or insisting it would be too hot or too cold so finally Delia put her foot down.  She set the date and informed him that the 6th June 1972 was going to be the day and that was it.  She was booking and organising everything and all he had to do was turn up.  She was determined to become Mrs. Kershaw this summer and Mrs. Kershaw she would be.

Delia thought of all the hard work gone into organising this bash.  She had spent months preparing every last detail … the invitations, the caterers, the flowers, the cake, the dresses, Philip’s suit, the marquee on the lawn as even though the ballroom in the house was large, it wasn’t adequate for four hundred guests and then the entertainment; a violin quartet for the wedding breakfast and a band for the evening.  Even St. Mary’s was given a sprucing up inside with the ancient walls given a fresh coat of whitewash so that the church could be shown off at its best on Lady Delia’s big day.

Delia smiled and stroked Demon who was snorting gently in her ear, eager to be off again.

“Darling Demon.  I am just so damned happy, I could explode,” she murmured.

She rose to her feet and threw her arms around her horse.  He whinnied and thrust his nose into her neck, the bond between them tight.

“Okay, darling boy.  Another quick gallop and then home for breakfast.  I don’t know about you but I’m feeling rather hungry.”

They set off again, a trot turning into a canter and then a full gallop through two fields and out onto the old lane leading to the lake.  The track meandered from one direction to another, up hill and down dale, teasing and tantalising Delia’s view of her home as it danced in and out of sight.

Copses lined the lane, old and ancient sycamores, oaks and pretty silver birch rising high above the tangled undergrowth of nettles, wild flowers, hemlock and giant hogweed, the natural habitat of wildlife rarely disturbed by humans.  Rabbits, startled by the sound of Demon’s hooves striking the ground watched horse and rider with suspicion from the shelter of the foliage while grey squirrels scurried up and down the trees, one in particular, annoyed at this unexpected disturbance, darting out to sit in the middle of the lane and chatter angrily before disappearing back into the safety of the bushes.

Delia trotted Demon back to his paddock, took off his tack, gave him an apple from her pocket, and left him to have a long cooling drink from the water butt and graze for the rest of the day.  Star, Dolly, Samson and Delilah were in the adjacent field so he had company if he so wished.  She kissed his long velvety nose, closed the gate and walked back to the stables to deposit his tack.

Heart light and excitement high, she looked across the massive lawn to where St. Mary’s could just be seen nestling in the woodland.  She hugged herself with delight.  Only another two weeks … two short weeks and she would be married … and after that … estate manager as well.  Life was going to be so sweet …  so very sweet from now on.  Leaping up the front steps to the Hall three at a time, she could hear the telephone in the entrance hall ringing insistently.  Hardy was nowhere to be seen so she picked it up.

“Canleigh Hall.”

“Delia.  I have to see you.”

Philip’s voice sounded faint and weary.  Delia laughed.  “The party must have been a good one … you sound exhausted.  What time did you get in?”

Philip took his time in answering and Delia grinned.  He must have a whopper of a hangover.

“Are you particularly busy at the moment?” he asked.  “I need to see you as soon as possible.  I’ve something to tell you.”

“Come over now then … for breakfast.  I’ve just got in from a ride and am ravenous and if you’re quick I might leave something for you,” she joked, knowing how he rarely bothered with breakfast now that Constance was no longer there to nag him.

Reeking of horses, Delia rushed upstairs for a quick shower and changed into clean jeans and a flowery cotton top, brushed her thick hair and darted down to the dining room.  The mahogany table, which could be extended to seat fifty, dominated the room, smiled down on by portraits of previous Dukes and Duchesses of Canleigh.  Ornate solid silver Georgian candelabras graced the table, which was laid for two, although Vicky obviously hadn’t made an appearance yet.  Bacon, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes and fried bread were all being kept hot above the warmers on the mahogany sideboard and a pot of hot milk and another of steaming coffee