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

bigger and grander and she had fallen in love with it but it wasn’t homely and Ruth didn’t feel serene and tranquil there as she did here.  Perhaps it was because her first taste of Canleigh had been badly tainted by all the unpleasantness with Charles’ children but in the Scottish highlands, apart from Stephen and the staff, they were alone, with no underlying worry that Delia might turn up … and Richard certainly couldn’t.  However, Ruth knew they couldn’t remain at Blairness and would have to return to Canleigh at some point but was determined they would spend far more time here in the future.  It was doing them both the power of good.

Charles’s health had improved rapidly since their arrival in Scotland.  Every day was a pleasure as they breakfasted idly and, if the weather permitted, took long leisurely morning strolls with Stephen, leaving Tina to enjoy some free time.  Ruth insisted Charles rest every afternoon.  While he slept or read a book, she played around with her painting.  It had been a joy to take it up again, having done very little while studying in Oxford but now she had all the time in the world in which to dabble.  There was a room on the first floor of the castle, which thanks to a former member of the family having the foresight to create two extra windows in the old stone walls, was flooded with light for most of the day, in addition to having a glorious view over the surrounding countryside.  Charles, on showing her around the castle, had suggested it would be a good place for her to indulge her passion.  They had ventured into Edinburgh, found an art shop, and purchased an easel, a few canvases of various sizes, paper, oils and all the paraphernalia Ruth would need.  She was thrilled and her afternoons spent in her lovely art studio were some of the most idyllic she had ever known, happy in the knowledge that her baby was being well cared for by Tina, and Charles was resting and recovering from his heart attack.

However, as regular as clockwork, paperwork arrived from Canleigh and Charles asked her to attend to it for him.

“It’s essential you become knowledgeable about the estate and how its run because, God forbid, one day you might have to be in complete charge until Stephen is able to take over his responsibilities,” Charles stated, not long after they arrived at Blairness.

Ruth acquiesced, knowing what he said was true and it was the sensible thing to do, but the reasoning behind it haunted her.  She didn’t want Charles to die.  She didn’t want to be left alone to bring up Stephen at Canleigh.  It was a frightening prospect.  However, she had enjoyed reading all the correspondence from Louis, the French estate manager, the accountants and the solicitors and then discussing anything important with Charles afterwards.  Now, when they returned to Canleigh, she would have a far better understanding of the running of the estate and would be able to discuss it intelligently.

Her new duty often made her think about Charles’s mother.  Poor woman, losing her husband so early in their married life and then having to take over full responsibility for Canleigh until Charles was mature enough; the war years when the Hall was turned into a hospital for wounded soldiers and she had trained as a nurse so she could help them, and then there was all her charity work.  What a formidable woman she must have been.  Ruth would have liked to have met her and although Charles had suggested Ruth have her picture painted and hung over the fireplace in the library at Canleigh, Ruth disagreed.  His mother’s beautiful portrait wouldn’t be removed from its rightful place while Ruth was alive.  Looking up her mother-in-law smiling down at them gave her courage.  The Dowager Duchess would remain where she was.  Ruth’s portrait, when it was decided who was going to paint it, would have to go elsewhere.  Perhaps at Blairness, she pondered idly.

Oh, Blairness.  Where they had been so happy, mainly keeping themselves to themselves; only entertaining a couple of times when Charles’s friends journeyed up to their estates in Scotland and came to dinner.  There were a couple of trips to Edinburgh, the first when they purchased her painting materials and enjoyed a play at the Royal Lyceum theatre followed by an overnight stay in a luxurious suite at the gracious Balmoral Hotel on Princes Street.  On their second trip, it was a strangely warm day for February and they were able to wander in weak sunshine along Princes Street, up through the gardens to visit the grand old castle high up on the hill and amble leisurely down the Royal Mile to beautiful Holyrood Palace afterwards.  They enjoyed dinner back at the hotel and then, after breakfast the following morning, drove home to Blairness.

Their undemanding lifestyle was just what Charles needed and Ruth was delighted to see the daily improvement in his health.  He had more energy and his eyes and skin looked far better than they had since he was taken so ill.  As the weeks passed, she became surer that although he would have to be careful and not overstretch himself, he should be able to return to his normal routine at Canleigh without too much trouble and her fears of his early demise began to recede.

As Ruth stood in the red drawing room, knowing she was going to have to leave the peaceful idyll they had created for themselves, her heart plummeted.  She didn’t want to shatter the tranquillity in the room and tell Charles that their wonderful few months was about to come to an abrupt end but she had no choice … yet again, thanks to Delia.  It was as if she ruled their lives.  They had to escape to Blairness because of her and now Ruth would have to leave because of