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

CHAPTER 12 YORKSHIRE – MAY 1972

Twenty-three-year old Philip Kershaw was deep in thought and if anyone has asked him outright exactly how he felt about his forthcoming marriage to Lady Delia Canleigh, he knew he couldn’t possibly say he was positive he was doing the right thing.  With his hands in his trouser pockets and kicking at stones with his heavy boots, he gloomily walked from the stables up to Tangles, wishing his grandparents were still alive so he could discuss his dilemma with them.

Philip knew he loved Delia, he always had … but was it the right kind of love, the enduring kind where partners were equal in all things?  Delia was a very strong woman, a domineering woman, a deeply determined and demanding woman.  Could he handle all that for the remainder of his life?  They shared the same passion for animals, horses in particular, which is how they became such good friends long ago but was it really enough?

Philip was a fine looking man, so Delia, whose school friends fiercely envied her for snaring him at such an early age, frequently told him.  He was now just under six-foot tall with an athletic figure and well-tanned skin due to the amount of time he spent outdoors, although his former thick fair hair was beginning to thin and recede at the crown which he found acutely embarrassing.  He hoped he wouldn’t end up bald in later years.

He, like Delia, was not a socialite and was more than content to lead a quiet life at Tangles passing on what he knew about horses and riding to anyone who wanted to learn, although he wasn’t able to teach to the standard of his grandfather and didn’t offer residential courses to any would-be future Olympians.  However, having gained the highest qualifications possible in equine studies at Askham Bryan College near York, and thanks to his grandparents having bequeathed him the premises and thirty horses and ponies, he was in the perfect position to earn a good living.  The more docile animals were used for lesser able pupils who wanted to learn how to ride and the more agile were lent out for general hacking for those who could ride well and as Philip had a good reputation, the business was busy and growing by the day.  He also offered a small livery service and still offered sanctuary for a few rescued horses when his friends at the R.S.P.C.A  requested it.

Nothing, apart from the deep grief for his grandparents, marred his happiness working outdoors with people he knew and liked.  He was totally at ease with the ‘horsey’ crowd he met every day but a fish out of water in any other gathering and was dreading the aristocratic wedding now only two short weeks away and in which he would play a leading role.  Four hundred guests had been invited, many of whom Philip didn’t know due to Delia’s insistence that she wanted the world at the wedding, and the mere thought of the event left him bordering on complete panic.

As he crossed the uneven, overgrown lawn, making a mental note that something would have to be done about it, he glanced up at the warm red brick of the house, the lattice windows and the great solid oak front door and felt loneliness engulf him.  He hated going back to an empty house, sorely missing his grandparents who had brought him up and given him the best childhood he could have wished for.  The dreadful fate of his grandfather, three years ago, had shocked everyone to the core when he was kicked to death by Thunderbolt.  Ralph had been grooming him in his loose box at the time and didn’t notice a wasp sting the horse’s nose.  Thunderbolt went berserk, kicked, reared, and sent Ralph flying to the ground.  A hoof struck Ralph on the head and he was killed instantly.  Then, only last year, Constance, who had never really gotten over the shock of losing her husband, was given the news that she had breast cancer and after a monumental struggle, finally lost her hold on life.

How Philip missed them.  Apart from the cleaning lady, Molly Seddon, who came in once a week to give the house a good ‘bottoming’ as she called it, and Delia, of course, who was there most days and many nights, he rattled around in the big house on his own.  He didn’t even have a dog for company.  Old Gruff and Ralph’s two Labradors had passed on a while ago and were buried in the garden.  He was considering rescuing two more but wanted to wait until after the honeymoon when Delia could take her pick of those who needed a loving home.

Pictures of a future with Delia leapt into his mind.  None of which made him feel any better, dreading the thought of the coming nuptials but why was he growing wobbly now?  They had been together for years.  Delia had been his first and only girlfriend.  Perhaps that was what was wrong.  He’d not sewn any wild oats . . . and time was running out . . . fast.  Not that he would ever have dared . . . goodness he sounded a right wimp he admitted to himself but Delia would have gone crazy if he had ever suggested they cool their relationship and see other people.  She loved him deeply.  Philip was well aware of that but her love could be all-consuming, almost suffocating and she was definitely the authoritative figure in their relationship.  Philip wiped his brow worriedly.  Was all this angst just pre-wedding nerves, he asked himself, or was it something more serious?  He badly needed to talk to someone … but who?

*   *   *

Charles sighed with satisfaction as he strolled leisurely in the warm sunshine around the garden of Blairness Castle.  He had just enjoyed a light lunch