Free An Impossible Confession by Sandra Heath

did result in Adam’s withdrawing from the turf because he was shunned.’
    As she’d said earlier? So, Adam’s cause célèbre and the ‘ behind-the -scenes trouble’ were one and the same. Helen sat back. ‘Margaret you also said earlier that it was all ancient history, which it quite patently isn’t.’
    ‘Perhaps I was guilty of wishful thinking. Helen, Adam Drummond may be a paragon to you, but to us he’s a low, dishonorable blackguard who betrayed our friendship and brought Bourne End’s good name into disrepute. He’s anathema to us now, and no matter how high he may stand in your personal esteem, I expect you, while under our roof, to observe our wishes in this. Don’t mention him again.’ Margaret picked up the teapot, the expression on her face indicating that the subject was most definitely closed. ‘Some more tea?’ she asked.
    Helen longed to press her for the full story; indeed, she desperately wanted to find out what had happened, but she knew that this wasn’t the time. With a sigh she nodded and held out her cup. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ 

CHAPTER 6
    H elen rose early on her first morning at Bourne End, stepping out onto the balcony of her bedroom and gazing down at the park, which was bathed in spring sunshine. The rhododendrons seemed even more magnificent and colorful than the day before, and already the drumming of hooves signified activity in the stables. A string of racehorses, their jockeys riding short in the new American style, moved swiftly over the dewy grass, vanishing from sight among the trees.
    As she stood there in her light blue robe, she wondered if this new day would bring any more information about what had shattered the friendship with Adam.
    At dinner the night before, both Gregory and Margaret had been at pains to behave as if the awkwardness of earlier hadn’t happened. Indeed, they couldn’t have been warmer or more full of the exciting things they had planned for her first Season, but not by so much as a word did they mention Adam, or what he was supposed to have done. They had mentioned another gentleman, though, and very frequently. A certain Mr Ralph St John occupied a very special place in their esteem, and they seemed to be firmly of the opinion that he would soon occupy a similar place in Helen’s. He was spoken of with much approval, even his monumental gambling debts were blithely discounted, and Helen was informed that she’d soon make his highly desirable acquaintance, for he had been engaged to escort her to the dinner in a day or so’s time. But she wasn’t in the least bit interested in the wonderful Mr Ralph St John, her thoughts were all of Adam, Lord Drummond.
    Today must surely prove more productive of information, for not only had Gregory already gone to the stables, which meantthat Margaret would be alone at breakfast, but Mary had been primed to find out all she could in the servants’ quarters.
    She went back into her room, a handsome oval chamber with rich shell-pink Chinese silk on the walls. The bed was an elegant four-poster hung with ruched white muslin, and the chairs on either side of the marble fireplace were upholstered in rose velvet. The Axminster carpet had been specially woven in a floral design in pink, gold, and white, and the same design was picked out on the ceiling from which a crystal chandelier was suspended. Wardrobes were cunningly concealed in the walls, and their doors alternated with tall mirrors that made the room seem very light and airy.
    She sat at the muslin-draped dressing table, and drew her hairbrush slowly through her hair as she waited for Mary to arrive.
    At last there was a discreet knock at the door, and as the glass domed clock on the mantlepiece chimed nine, the maid came in. She looked very fresh and tidy in a gray gingham dress, white apron, and starched mob cap, and her dark hair was pinned up into a very precise knot. ‘Good morning, Miss Fairmead,’ she said, hurrying to take the brush and