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

“Oh, yes.  I was so sorry to hear the wedding has been cancelled.  Delia must feel dreadful.”

Charles grimaced.  “Yes, I am most sorry too.  Philip and my strong-willed daughter have been together for a very long time.  Goodness knows what she will do now … have you met Delia yet, Ruth?”

Ruth nodded, avoiding his eyes.  She didn’t want him to guess her first meeting with Delia hadn’t been a particularly pleasant one but Charles wasn’t one to be fooled and he knew Delia well.

“I see,” he remarked.  “Not too good then.  Don’t worry, Ruth.  Her bark is worse than her bite,” repeating Hardy’s words, “and if she does give you any trouble, you just let me know.  She might ride roughshod over everyone else but where I’m concerned she knows where to draw the line … and I flatly refuse to allow her to intimidate any guest of mine.”

Richard threw Charles a questioning look.  ‘Guest of mine.’  Richard was under the impression Ruth was at Canleigh at his invitation.  He watched them cross the ballroom and enter the blue drawing room further on.  They seemed perfectly at ease with each other, Charles smiling and chatting happily, Ruth transfixed, although that could be attributed to nerves.  Richard shrugged, surprised at how irritated he was by the instant friendship between the pair and how he was being made to feel almost de trop.

By the time Richard caught up, Charles and Ruth, whose pace had increased as the time for dinner drew near, had reached the south side of the Hall, passed through the turquoise drawing room, the dining room where the beautifully polished table was laid for dinner, the music room with its grand piano, and into the library.

Charles guided Ruth to a sofa and stood beside her while Hardy was busy preparing aperitifs at the drinks’ cabinet in the corner of the room.  It was a warm evening and Richard moved to the French windows to gaze out over the lake, glistening in the sunshine, trying to dismiss the niggling feelings of jealousy.  He wanted to go over and push his Father away from Ruth but of course, he couldn’t … and he was being totally absurd.  Father was just showing courtesy towards a guest.  It couldn’t be anything else.  Ruth was years younger than Father.  She could be his daughter for goodness sake.  No, he was being paranoid.  Of course he was.

Happily unaware of the tumult Richard was enduring, Ruth looked around the library with interest.  There were rows and rows of leather-bound books on shelves completely covering two walls and on either side of the marble fireplace.  Ruth wondered if they had all been read or whether they were just there to impress.  A shy, discreet glance at Charles and she decided not.  He had no need to flaunt his possessions; he was too self-assured and genuine.

Charles noticed Ruth gazing at the picture above the fireplace.  “Mother,” he said.

Ruth smiled.  “She looks lovely.  You must have missed her a lot.”  Richard had told her on the way up from Oxford about his Granny and how she had died.

“Yes.  I did.  We all did.  She was a remarkable woman.  Is this your first visit to Yorkshire, Ruth?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, it is.”

“You’ll be impressed.  The countryside hereabouts is some of the most beautiful in England and I’m positive you’ll form the same opinion once you’ve had time to see some of it.  I believe Richard is taking you riding tomorrow … that will provide a splendid opportunity, although just a brief weekend is far too little time to explore such a vast county.  You need to visit us for much longer.”

There he goes again, thought Richard crossly.

“I understand you’re having second thoughts about your medical career,” continued Charles as Ruth took the crystal glass of sherry Hardy offered her on a silver tray.  She couldn’t swear to it but surely he had winked at her.  She smiled back, remembering his earlier words of reassurance.  He had been quite right.  Charles was delightful.

“That’s why I invited Ruth to Canleigh,” Richard remarked trying to keep his tone casual.  “She’s gone all wobbly on us …  thinks medicine is not for her.  We thought a weekend away from Oxford might help her come to a final decision.”

“And very right too.  Is there something you would rather do, Ruth?” asked Charles.

“I’m really not sure at the moment,” Ruth replied, almost afraid to raise her eyes to his.  Whatever was the matter with her?  She had expected to be in awe of him but instead, she had this dreadful urge to throw herself into his arms where she knew she would feel safe and protected from the world.

“Well, I’m sure whatever you decide to do, you’ll make a good job of it.  You look a very capable young woman.”

Further discussion was temporarily abandoned as the library door was flung open and Delia swept into the room, resplendent in a vibrant long dark red dress, low cut and backless.  Ruth couldn’t help noticing that along with plain gold stud earrings, necklace and gold watch, she was still wearing her sapphire and diamond engagement ring.

Pointedly ignoring Ruth, Delia smiled weakly at Richard and pecked her Father’s cheek.

“Hello, Father.  Good journey?”

“Not bad.  How are you?” Charles asked, looking at his eldest daughter with concern.  Following Philip’s disturbing telephone call to advise him that the wedding was cancelled and Delia was taking it badly, confirmed by the nasty wound in the library door, Charles had tried to find her but she was no-where to be found and in the end he had abandoned his search and decided to speak to her after dinner.  Charles could still remember how Delia had been so badly affected after the traumatic events when Margaret left Canleigh and