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you and how life goes in London.
    Fondly,
    Olivia
    …
    Lady Lansdowne read the letter over again, her brows furrowed. There must be some mistake. Surely Lord Coventry had not married her dearest friend. Why, the scoundrel had been at all the parties and balls she had attended since arriving for the Season. He displayed none of the behaviors of a married man. Indeed, Lady Sheridan had been draped all over him just last night at the youngest Darkin daughter’s come-out ball.
    Something was not right, and Elizabeth could not sit by and not help correct it. Olivia had sounded, for lack of a better word, lost. So unlike the vibrant young woman she knew so well.
    Elizabeth quickly withdrew a sheet of foolscap and began to write.
    My Dearest Olivia,
    Surprise cannot begin to cover my reaction to your news. Married! And to the Earl of Coventry!
    You don’t mention what keeps him here in London, but now you must pack up and join us. The Season is just beginning, and there will be routs and balls and parties you must attend with us.
    My dear little Evan remains in the country with his nurse. His lordship wanted me to accompany him to London for the Parliamentary session, and we both felt the air in London would not be good for Evan’s little lungs. Oh I so wish you could see how adorable he is. But then I suppose all mothers think so of their children.
    I’m not sure what Coventry’s bachelor town home is like, but Lansdowne has opened ours, and we have plenty of room. You must stay with us. It will be as if we were school girls together once more.
    Be aware I will not take no for an answer. I will expect you within two weeks. Please, Olivia, it will be so much fun.
    I am looking forward to a long chat.
    Yours Forever in Friendship,
    Elizabeth
    …
    Olivia reached out to grasp the driver’s hand. It was hard not to stare open-mouthed as she stepped out of the carriage. In so many ways she felt like a young girl again, with no knowledge of the world. Maybe her father had been right and she should have experienced a London Season.
    The Lansdowne town house in Belgravia was exquisite. Two columns framed a white painted stucco fa ç ade with an entryway to the main front door—a stark black—with an unusual lion’s head knocker. The whole image was one of elegance and sophistication.
    A butler opened the door before Olivia had even arrived at the first step. He bowed to her as she entered.
    “Lady Coventry, I presume?” He reached for her pelisse.
    “Yes. Thank you,” she murmured distractedly. Her eyes were busy taking in the entrance hall, an elegant area twice the size of the bedroom she and Elizabeth had shared at school.
    “Olivia!” Elizabeth squealed as she ran down the stairs, her hand fisted in her dress, revealing delicate house shoes and white stockings.
    “Elizabeth,” Olivia sighed, her eyes filling. Seeing her dearest friend released something she hadn’t realized she’d held in. Elizabeth represented warmth, love, and security. She embodied a young woman’s dreams and fantasies, a naïve hope for a fairy-tale ending.
    The women hugged and shed tears as the butler looked over their heads. Soon he cleared his throat. “My lady, perhaps you would like to retire to the morning room where tea has been set up.”
    “Oh yes, Staunton, thank you.” Elizabeth wiped tears from her eyes.
    Arms around each other’s waists, Olivia and Elizabeth proceeded to the morning room and settled side by side on a comfortable settee.
    Olivia regarded her hostess. In the few years since her wedding, Elizabeth had grown into a lovely marchioness. No longer a schoolgirl, she wore the mantle of grace and refinement required of her position, from the top of her golden blond head to her tiny feet. Now Elizabeth’s blue eyes searched her face with concern. “I cannot tell you how good it is to see you.” She held the delicate yellow flowered teapot and poured them both steaming cups of tea.
    Olivia accepted the cup and savored