While staying with Vicky at the London flat, Ruth had rung Hardy nearly every day, hoping upon hope that Delia and Barrie were showing signs of departing Canleigh but to no avail. They remained in Delia’s room, working their way through the Krug stored in the wine cellar. Ruth, losing patience when Delia refused to speak to her, instructed Hardy to inform Delia that Charles was on his way home, thinking that might make the pair leave Canleigh without further ado. It hadn’t worked. Delia had laughed in Hardy’s face and demanded more champagne.
Then came the distressing telephone call from Hardy around eleven thirty last night, just as Ruth was preparing for bed. Vicky had retired two hours earlier, still not going down to the club as Alex insisted he could manage until she was better and she needed as much rest as possible and felt ready to face the general public again.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, Your Grace,” Hardy started, causing Ruth’s stomach to flip anxiously.
“Go on …,” she urged, unable to bear any kind of suspense. It must be really bad for Hardy to ring her at this time of night sounding so distraught.
“There’s been a fire, Your Grace … in Lady Delia’s bedroom. She is badly injured and is on the way to hospital but Mr. Barrie … he crashed his car going down the drive … I’m afraid he’s dead.”
“What?” Ruth gasped, closing her eyes in disbelief.
Hardy, leaving nothing out, explained in more detail exactly what had occurred. Ruth’s first fear had been for Charles and how he would react … and he would have to be informed as fast as possible before it was broadcast to the world … and then there was Vicky. She had to be told her errant husband was dead … in the most appalling way. Burnt alive in his car. Ruth shuddered. What a dreadful tragedy. She had never liked Barrie and certainly didn’t trust him but he was young and had his whole future before him. She felt bad for his parents too, who would also have to be notified quickly, but luckily, the police were most helpful and offered to tell them, which was a burden she and Vicky wouldn’t have to bear.
Ruth didn’t tell Vicky immediately. She sat in the lounge of the flat in her nightdress and dressing gown and mulled over how to tell Charles. Neither of them liked to go to bed too early and very often stayed up until the early hours reading. No doubt he would be relaxing on the sofa in the red drawing room, devouring one of the many historical non-fiction books he owned to help him with research for his next novel. She made the call, knowing he would know something was up immediately as they had only enjoyed a long chat this afternoon.
“Darling!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to hear from you again today. Is something the matter?”
“Yes, Charles. I am afraid there is,” replied Ruth, taking in a deep breath and praying he would be able to take in the traumatic events at Canleigh without becoming too distressed and raising his blood pressure.
However, he had taken it more calmly than she thought he would and, in his usual understanding way, he had realised what a predicament she had been in and was grateful to her for not telling him that Delia and Barrie were at Canleigh. Ruth had put his welfare before everything and he loved her for it.
“Right,” he had said once she had relayed all that Hardy had told her. “We must all go home. Tomorrow. I’ll drive Tina and Stephen back. If we leave after breakfast, we can reach Canleigh around three in the afternoon, allowing for the fact that we will have to stop for lunch and Tina will have to see to Stephen’s needs. Can you catch a train to reach Leeds about that time, Ruth? Then I can meet you at the station. I presume Vicky will want to come with you. Goodness knows what we are going to find and even if we will be able to sleep in the Hall. We might have to camp out at the Dower House … or go to a hotel.”
“Hardy did say it was basically only Delia’s room as Anderson reacted so quickly with the fire extinguisher. Apparently, the corridor and the rooms nearby have some smoke damage but that’s all. It could have been so much worse,” replied Ruth, trying to be positive.
“That’s something, at least,” he replied, suddenly sounding very tired.
“Charles. Are you sure you are okay? I can always come straight up to you and drive you all back to Canleigh.”
“No,” he insisted. “I’m perfectly fine, Ruth. Please don’t worry. If I didn’t think I was well enough to drive down, I wouldn’t. I certainly don’t want to put Stephen and Tina at risk. Ring me in the morning and let me know exactly what time your train gets in and I’ll make sure I’m there. It’s a pity Perkins has retired now and I don’t think we should bother Hardy more than necessary at the moment. It sounds as if he’s had a terrible week and is probably in shock, poor man.”
Ruth admired him for the way he cared for his staff and those around him. He was so kind and considerate. She had been really lucky, finding him to share her life with.
Once Charles had said goodbye, promising to get straight to bed, Ruth turned to her next formidable task … informing Vicky that her husband
