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

“You are more than welcome, Your Grace.  Now you both have a lovely rest up in Scotland.  Don’t try to do too much too soon and don’t forget your medication.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Sister.  I’m going to monitor his every move,” laughed Ruth, so pleased they were able to be together again and away from the dreadful atmosphere at Canleigh.  Her heart felt lighter than it had for weeks as they went down the ground floor in the lift and Charles got into the passenger seat of the Rolls after saying hello to Tina and kissing a sleeping Stephen.  In the daylight, away from the hospital lights, he looked quite well, although a little weak and weary, but Ruth knew that the fresh Scottish air would soon have him looking really fit and healthy again.

“It’s wonderful to be with you, my dear,” Charles murmured so that Tina couldn’t hear.  “And now we’re going to enjoy a fabulously beautiful winter in Scotland with all that snow.  The scenery will be absolutely splendid and it will be a wonderful opportunity for you to take up your painting again if you wish.  Oh, Ruth,” he sighed.  “I’m so looking forward to this.”

Ruth smiled widely as she started the Rolls and pulled out of the hospital car park.  Her spirits were soaring now her precious little family were well out of harm’s way.

*   *   *

Delia had ridden Demon hard that morning.  They had galloped across the estate, cantered through the woods and then trotted through the village.  Delia had wondered whether to pop into the Canleigh Arms for a drink but thought better of it.  There was every possibility some lurking member of the press would be around.  Most had cleared off to chase other news since the funeral but now and again one would turn up on the off chance they might find an interesting snippet about the goings on at the Hall.

She left Demon in the field near to the stables, checked the Rolls and Vicky’s silly little sports car were missing from the garage and smiled broadly as she walked back to the Hall.  She finally had Canleigh to herself.  Her snivelling sister and her pathetic stepmother, with her sprog in tow, had gone and wouldn’t be back for a long time.  She had carte blanche to do as she liked … until March.  Until her trial.  But she wasn’t going to think about that for now.  She had a few months in which to enjoy Canleigh.  Enjoy Demon … and if things went her way … to enjoy Philip.

Delia’s heart had missed a beat when she saw him at the funeral … and without his wife, which was interesting.  It was when the family were following the coffin down the aisle for the burial in the churchyard that she spotted him, glad she was wearing the veil so no-one could see her face light up at the sight of him.  He was as handsome as she remembered and there was no other man to match him in her eyes.  All the stupid dalliances she had endured during her time away from Canleigh paled into insignificance.  He was simply gorgeous … and she couldn’t wait for the moment they would be one again.   She badly wanted to speak to him after the burial, having the excuse that she wanted to thank him properly for looking after Demon during the time she was away … and if she could, find out where his wife was but Ruth had got there first.  Delia had watched the pair talking … and touching.  How dare that woman put a hand on him?  Surely she hadn’t designs on him while her husband was incapacitated in hospital?  Delia felt an overwhelming urge to rush over and push them apart but stood rooted to the spot beside Richard’s grave, her veil whisked back so she could send a look of pure hatred at Ruth as she glanced her way.   Ruth had looked surprised and turned away quickly.  Philip hadn’t noticed and followed Ruth out of the churchyard, jumped into his car and drove off in the direction of Tangles.  Delia had been sorely disappointed he didn’t join them at the Hall for refreshments, although it was a good sign he was alone, which gave her hope that things weren’t all as they should be with his marital relationship, as surely his wife would have accompanied him to a neighbours’ funeral.  Still, he would keep.  She had a few months to work her charms on him.  Until then she had Barrie to keep sweet.  At that particular moment, he was her only friend in the world … and she had to admit that at least the sex was good.

Having showered and changed into clean slacks and a sweater, Delia crashed onto her bed and took a swig out of the Courvoisier bottle on the bedside table.  She was drinking far more than she ought to these days but didn’t care.  She needed it at the moment.  She picked up the telephone and rang Barrie, wanting to speak to him before Vicky arrived home.

He answered immediately, wary in case it was Vicky.  He wasn’t looking forward to her arrival back in London; following the hysterical telephone call he had received from her once Delia had stupidly revealed she was in a sexual relationship with him again.  He was going to have to do some real grovelling if he wanted to remain in a relationship with her.  But then … did he?  Did he really?  After all, Delia was far, far better in bed and promising him the earth if he supported her.  With the cash he got from her, he could set up his very own club.  He might not be able to buy it but he could rent and be his own boss instead of having to kowtow to his wife and his partner any longer.  The