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

Delia took the sherry Hardy offered and smiled brightly at Charles.  “I’m fine.  Why shouldn’t I be?”

Charles was spared having to reply as the door opened again and in walked Vicky, looking the picture of health with her bouncy short dark wavy hair and golden skin.  A faint touch of green eye shadow above hazel eyes matched the knee-length emerald silk dress.  Charles’s smile was radiant as he moved quickly towards his youngest daughter and swept her into a close embrace.

“Vicky, darling.  You look really well.”

“Oh, Daddy.  You really mustn’t worry about me.  I’m better now, really I am,” throwing him a wide smile and showing her dainty white teeth.

Ruth glanced at Delia, noting the grimace of distaste at her father’s uninhibited gesture and the unmistakable display of real affection.  Delia was obviously intensely jealous of her father’s affection for her younger sister.

Following closely behind Vicky was a confident looking young man who obviously loved himself.  He was an inch or two shorter than Richard and Charles and possessed wiry fair hair with a reddish tint, cold blue eyes, a longish face and thin lips.  Ruth inwardly shuddered and could understand why Richard didn’t like him.  As good looking and charming as he was, there was something cold and calculating about the man; the way his eyes darted about the room when he thought nobody was looking, not studying the furniture and artefacts with genuine interest but as if he was trying to weigh up what everything was worth.  And he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet, she thought.  It was wrong to jump to conclusions.  He’s probably very nice really … he must be if Vicky thinks so.  She wondered what Charles would make of him.

“And you must be Barrie … I’ve heard a lot about you, young man.  Welcome to Canleigh,” said Charles, extending an arm to shake Barrie’s hand while keeping the other firmly around Vicky’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” answered Barrie, smiling charmingly at his host and grasping his hand firmly.

“I believe you’ve met my son, Richard ….”

Barrie nodded in Richard’s direction.  Richard nodded back.

“And this is my eldest daughter, Delia.”

Delia coolly looked Barrie up and down as if he was a horse she was about to purchase, although Ruth was shocked to see Delia lick her lips suggestively.  Barrie’s eyes widened and his smile grew wider.  The instant chemistry between them could have ignited the room but if Vicky was aware of it, she hid her feelings well.

“Charmed, I’m sure, Lady Delia,” Barrie drooled, reaching for Delia’s hand and made an exaggerated, flowery attempt at kissing it, not taking his eyes from her face.  Delia’s hard expression softened and a slight smile played on her lips.

“Isn’t he just delightful?” laughed Vicky nervously, trying to dispel the strange tension which had sprung up between all the occupants of the room.

Charles obviously didn’t share Vicky’s view, Ruth thought, watching his mouth tighten into a hard line.  He withdrew his arm from Vicky’s shoulders and moved across the room to steer Barrie away from Delia and towards herself.

“And this is Richard’s friend from Oxford, Ruth Barrett.”

Barrie’s false smile never faltered as he turned to Ruth and made a play of kissing her hand too.  Ruth couldn’t understand why Vicky was smitten.  There was something … something …  but she couldn’t put her finger on it, not very nice about him and Ruth had an overwhelming impulse to pull her hand away from his and wipe away his kiss.  She was glad when Vicky took a drink from Hardy and sat beside her on the sofa, Barrie moving towards Delia and Richard by the window.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Ruth,” remarked Vicky, holding the glass in her hand tightly while she watched Barrie out of the corner of her eye.  She idolised him but had guessed how he would react when meeting Delia.  She was a very attractive woman … and now a free one, according to Richard, who had told her the news when they had bumped into each other in the upstairs corridor earlier.  Vicky felt a niggle of fear and wished circumstances were different, that the wedding hadn’t been cancelled and Philip was dining with them.  Delia was playing up to Barrie, who had moved back across the room to where she lounged against Charles’ desk, laughing and hanging on to Barrie’s every word, smiling at him under her lashes and standing too close.  It was almost unseemly and embarrassing for everyone in the room, especially Vicky.

Vicky turned to Ruth and tried hard to concentrate on a conversation with her.  She had liked Ruth from the moment they met in Oxford a few months ago and hoped she would marry Richard one day.  It would be lovely to have her as a sister-in-law.  She was kind, open, and honest and Vicky thought they could be real friends when they had more time to spend together.

Ruth liked Vicky too.  The younger girl was gay and funny and made no secret of the fact that she liked a drink, twice signalling to Hardy to top up her sherry, expertly ignoring Charles’s disapproving looks.

“So, Ruth, now that you have had a tour of the house, what do you think of it?”  Vicky asked.

“Stunning,” remarked Ruth, smiling up at Charles, who smiled back.  “Absolutely stunning.”

“I love coming home,” continued Vicky, “it’s so relaxing after the mad social whirl in Oxford … it’s pretty hard trying to party … and study … all in all, its jolly hectic, isn’t it, Barrie?” she bubbled desperately, trying to resist the urge to rush across the room and haul him away from Delia.

“Yes, I suppose it I.”  Barrie answered Vicky absentmindedly, not even glancing in her direction.

The atmosphere in the room grew more awkward,