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

be at the main gates and other entrances to the estate to make sure that only bone fide guests were allowed to enter but Ruth had no doubt that somewhere and somehow, the press would manage to sneak in and take photographs.  The Canleigh family were hot news at the present.

The day turned out to be a long one.  More people turned up than expected and the church was packed.  Hardy, with his wife Betty in the front seat of the Rolls beside him, drove Ruth, Vicky and Delia to the church to save them from getting wet.  All three wore black coats, dresses, and high-heeled shoes.  Vicky and Ruth had donned smart hats but Delia chose a black veil, hiding her face from onlookers and adding to the air of mystery and speculation.  No-one spoke in the car on the short ride and Ruth was glad to alight and shake the hand of the vicar who was waiting to greet them outside the church.

As Ruth, followed by Vicky and Delia, moved up the aisle to their seat at the front, the pews behind already filled with their guests, she couldn’t help noticing that although she and Vicky were greeted with sympathetic smiles and nods, everyone stared openly at Delia and she wondered how many believed Delia had killed her brother.

The coffin was beneath the pulpit, with a simple wreath made up of greenery from various parts of the grounds and lovingly prepared earlier by estate gardeners, resting on top.  A picture of a smiling Richard on an easel stood beside it.  Vicky sat on one side of Ruth and Delia the other.  Vicky, bereft, with her marriage in tatters and without a doting husband to support her, cried quietly, dabbing frequently at her eyes with her handkerchief.  Delia sat silently, not even singing the hymns and Ruth wondered, gazing at the beautiful stained-glass windows above the alter and to either side of the nave, whether the real reason her step daughter was wearing a veil was because she didn’t want anyone to see her secret smiles.  As for Ruth, she just felt horribly heartbroken for Charles, in his hospital bed, thinking about what was going on here.  It was agonising, imagining his pain.

The ceremony over, the mourners filed outside to the graveyard for the interment.  The rain had stopped, almost as if on order, but threatened to start again as they filed out of the gate afterwards.  Ruth noticed Philip Kershaw, keeping as much distance as he could from Delia.  He was alone and she wondered why his wife hadn’t joined him.

“Thank you for coming,” she said quietly, edging closer to him.  “I know it can’t have been easy … with Delia here.  Will you be coming back to the Hall?”

Philip looked at her.  They had been introduced when Ruth had first moved to Canleigh and he and Sue had been invited to her wedding.  She was a charming woman and he liked her very much.  He hoped Delia wouldn’t give her too much of a hard time.

“No.  I don’t think it would be wise but thank you anyway.  And may I ask how the Duke is?  I do hope he is improving.  He must be devastated not to have been here today.”

“He’s heartbroken … but at least he’s getting better …  slowly … and as soon as I can I shall be taking him up to Blairness to recover.  Delia …,” she looked at him almost apologetically, “Delia is going to remain at Canleigh until her trial … and I don’t want Charles to be under any more stress than need be.”

“I think that’s a very good idea, Your Grace.”

Ruth placed a hand on his arm.  “Please Philip.  Just call me Ruth.  This ‘Your Grace’ business can be very off-putting.”

Philip smiled warmly and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.  “I shall be delighted to do so.  Thank you, Ruth.”

Ruth smiled warmly back but a movement in the corner of her eye made her turn.  Delia was still standing beside Richard’s grave but she had pushed her veil back and was staring hard at Ruth and Philip.  Her gaze was perfectly evil and Ruth felt a shudder run through her body and it was nothing to do with the cold of the day.

Philip hadn’t noticed, nodded goodbye and moved to his car for the journey back to Tangles.  Hardy was holding open the rear door of the Rolls with Betty Hardy and Vicky already inside.  Ruth joined them and Delia followed, replacing her veil.  The atmosphere in the car was dark and foreboding.  Ruth looked back at the church as they pulled away to see a few mourners getting into cars but the majority were walking over to the Hall looking like a mass of black ants in their mourning attire.

The next couple of hours were spent entertaining their guests and listening to stories of Richard’s progress through school and his time in Oxford.  No-one had a bad word to say about him, not that they would at his funeral, but Ruth began to grow tired of hearing just what a wonderful person he was.  What would they have said if she told them he had nearly raped her down in the kitchens below them and how savage his temper could be if he couldn’t get his own way?  Just like Delia, who had refused to join the throng of mourners in the ballroom, disappeared up to her room and changed into riding attire.  Ruth had seen her, out of the window, walking quickly down to the stables and was appalled by her complete lack of manners, hoping that no-one else would notice and ask where she was.

It was with huge relief that Ruth and Vicky waved everyone off later in the afternoon.  Minutes afterwards, Delia returned, dishevelled and unkempt, splattered with mud and her hair in disarray and walked up the front