Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) by Carole Williams (uplifting novels TXT) 📕

couldn’t prevent herself from smiling.  Her heart flipped and she closed her eyes, remembering how he had looked at her, smiled at her, talked to her as if she was the only woman in the world; as if she was of consequence and important.  He was so charming, good looking, interesting.  She remembered his laugh, the feel of his hand on hers, his expressive eyes.  Oh yes, his eyes.  They bored down into her very soul as if he were seeking hers.  Soul mates.  Wasn’t that the expression?

Ruth pulled herself up sharply.  She had to stop this.  It was ridiculous.  She would never see Charles again and had to let these crazy thoughts go.  It was sheer lunacy.  He had only been polite and courteous to a guest of his son.  That was all.  She had to make a determined effort to put Canleigh and its owner out of her mind.

She made a mug of tea and wandered over to the lounge window with it in her hand, darting behind the orange curtain as Richard came into view below, heading for his flat further down the road.  He looked thoroughly fed up and was wearing his glasses.  That was an ominous sign.  He always abandoned his contact lenses when under strain.  He disappeared from view without even glancing towards her flat.

Ruth felt sad.  She had valued Richard’s friendship but would find it almost impossible to forget his last words, bristling at the very thought.  His perspective was frightening.  She had fallen for his father, it was true, although she couldn’t admit it to Richard but she certainly wasn’t after a fortune or a title, which Richard assumed was the case.  Ruth had to smile.  Delia accused her of wanting it with Richard.  How wrong she was.  And they had both threatened her.   They might not be identical twins but they certainly bore the same traits, although Richard’s nastiness was masked by his earlier kindness and friendship.  She still couldn’t believe how he had physically attacked her in the kitchen at Canleigh.  She had been terrified he was going to rape her and if he hadn’t been so drunk and injured and weakened by Delia earlier, it was probably quite likely that he would have.  Ruth shuddered.  She had had a lucky escape and had no wish to have anything to do with Richard again.

Then the telephone beside her sprung into life and made her jump.  For a second she debated whether to answer it.  It might be Richard and she really didn’t want to talk to him; didn’t want to listen to any grovelling apologies or indeed, any more threats.  But the ringing persisted and in the end, she picked it up.

“Ruth Barrett.”

“Hello, Ruth.  It’s Charles.”

Ruth’s grip on the telephone tightened.  Charles was the last person on earth she had expected to hear from.  “Oh, hello,” she said, hesitantly.

“I hope you don’t mind me calling,” he went on.  “I just wanted to make sure you had reached Oxford safely.  Hardy gave me your note but I was disappointed not to have had the chance to say goodbye this morning and as you left so early, and not with Richard, I wanted to make sure that nothing was amiss.  I couldn’t ask him as he left without a word when I was swimming.  I presume he went back to Oxford too.”

Ruth found it difficult to answer for a second, not wanting her voice to squeak with nerves.  “Um, yes.  I’m fine, thank you.  Richard and I had a rather … a rather heated disagreement and I thought it prudent to leave on my own … and yes, he’s back.  I saw him a short while ago.  How kind of you to call.”

“Good.  Knowing you are both in Oxford is a weight off my mind.  However, Ruth … I want to ask you to do me a favour.”

Her, do him a favour?   “Well, of course.  If I can.”

“I’m coming down to Oxford tomorrow and would really like it if you would join me for dinner … perhaps the Restaurant Elizabeth?  I haven’t been there for a long time and the food is exquisite … that is, if you are free … and would like to.”

Ruth sank down into the nearby chair and felt her smile getting wider by the second.  “Yes.  I would.  Very much.”

“Lovely.  I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock.  Would that be in order?”

“Yes,” she breathed.  “It’s number twenty-five.  Just up the road from Richard,”

“I’ll see you then, Ruth.  Goodbye.”

*   *   *

Charles replaced his receiver with a smile on his lips.  He hadn’t been able to get the girl out of his mind all day and knew it was impossible to leave things as they were.  He had to see her again and soon … very soon … and he would like to know what made them leave Canleigh so early, so abruptly, and separately.  It was quite mystifying … two such hasty departures from Canleigh at different times and by different forms of transport.  Charles guessed there must have been some almighty disagreement between the two young people and although he tried to keep out of his children’s private lives as much as he could, with the feelings he was having for Ruth, he needed to make sure there was nothing in the way of a budding romance between the two of them.  He certainly didn’t want to put his foot in it.

Charles stepped through the French doors of the library and onto the terrace.  It had rained a little overnight, freshening the plants and trees so they all stood to attention in all their glory.  Charles breathed in the air.  It was warm and fragrant.  His spirits rose even higher than they were already following Ruth’s acceptance of his invitation to dinner tomorrow evening.

He walked past the stables and down to the lake, raising a hand in