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

can’t risk it.  You promised faithfully that you would be discreet so the children should never have to hear anything untoward about you and I warned you that if you ever created a scandal in any shape or form, there will be a divorce, and the generous allowance I provide every month will be cancelled immediately.”

Margaret turned to stare at him with a puzzled frown on her face.  “But I have been discreet … all my dalliances have been with married men … who are also quite happy to keep everything under wraps in case their precious wives find out, and in public, I’ve always made sure to be in a large group … and I drink very little when socialising and certainly don’t touch drugs.” She purposefully put what had occurred last year with Jimmy, who had been single ... and then the subsequent demise of her maid … to the back of her mind.  She had been on pins for a few months afterwards but no-one had ever found out about what happened on that cruise ship and she sincerely hoped it would stay that way … and then there was her present infatuation … he wasn’t married either. “So, Charles, darling” she blithely continued, “I really don’t understand what the problem is.”

Charles swallowed.  He hated confrontation in any shape or form, was sometimes at a loss to know how to deal with his wayward wife, and certainly didn’t want to know about her affairs.

“Just lately, your comings and goings appear to be in the tabloids more and more frequently, junketing about from one party or nightclub and always with a group of idle people who have nothing else they want to do but have a good time.  It doesn’t look good, Margaret, and the children are becoming aware of it.  Delia was in the village shop last week and saw you on the front of some newspaper or other, in a revealing dress, leaving a club with a crowd of rowdy drunks.  She was upset and embarrassed and I simply won’t have it, Margaret.  It’s not fair on the children and it’s not fair on me … and we also agreed you would have to be home for all the school holidays.  The children have been here for three days now with no sign of you and as it’s half term, it won’t be long before they resume their education.”

Margaret pulled a face.  “Yes, okay.  It was a bit unfortunate we were seen that night and I promise it won’t happen again but please don’t threaten me, Charles.  Now, while I am here,” she went on quickly, changing the subject.  “I want to talk about the long summer holiday.  I was going to ask if I could give Blairness a miss this year.  Francis Devere has invited a few of us to spend some time on his yacht in the Med and you know how Scotland affects me,” she shuddered at the thought of her mother-in-law’s chilly old castle where they all had to spend most of every August.  Then there were the endless days of rain.  It always seemed to pour when they ventured up to the Highlands.

Charles started shaking his head and the tone of his voice was firm.  “Have you listened to anything I have said?  No, Margaret.  You know what the agreement between us is.  If you wish to enjoy your freedom for the remainder of the year, you have to join us during school holidays and that includes Blairness.  You rarely spend any time with the children as it is and they do need to remember what you look like,” he added disdainfully.

“Oh, don’t be so difficult, Charles,” she said impatiently.  “The children don’t enjoy my company any more than I enjoy theirs.  Let’s be honest.  No-one will miss me if I don’t come.  In fact, I would imagine they … and your mother … will be pretty much relieved.”

“That’s beside the point, Margaret, and you know it.  We need to keep up some pretence that we are a family.”

“Come on, darling.  Please,” she wheedled, with a pout.  “Or, if you’re worried that we’re never seen together, why don’t you send the children to Scotland with your mother as they all love it so much and you could join us on the yacht.  It would be such fun,” she drooled, running long red immaculately manicured nails along his shoulders as she moved to the open French windows and looked out over the parterre, breathing in the fragrance drifting up from the recently clipped box hedges.  “Just think of all those lovely warm nights under the stars … and the fun we could have.  All that hot sun, swimming … and sex.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he uttered.  “Why on earth would I want to do that?  Blairness it is and that is my final word on the subject … and until then I want you to remain here.”

Margaret looked at him, horrified.  “What!  For the whole summer?  Charles, no.  There’s Henley Regatta, Ascot, and a couple of balls to which I’ve been invited.  I can’t possibly not be there.”

She was panicking and hoped Charles wouldn’t realise it.  She couldn’t be away from London for so long.  She needed to be near the gorgeous, sexy, irresistible Simon.  She had lusted after him ever since meeting him at one of his mother’s business launches a few weeks ago.  He was much younger than her, and single, and her firm resolution to only have affairs with married men was blown away when she first set eyes on him.  She was totally smitten and caution was being thrown to the winds.  Their relationship was at the delicious, heady anticipation stage of a torrid fling and she simply had to find a way to get back to London … and as fast as possible.

“What about the house?” she said quickly.  “You know I need to be there