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the hot bracing liquid. “And I cannot tell you how happy I am to have come.”
    Elizabeth chattered on about London, the Season, her visits to the modiste, and the events planned for the coming week. Olivia used the opportunity to collect herself. As happy as she was to be here with her dearest friend, she knew the time would come when Elizabeth would want to know the full story, and she had no intention of holding anything back. She desperately needed someone to talk to and get advice from.
    “So,” Elizabeth said brightly, taking her friend’s hand. “Tell me how you came to be married to the Earl of Coventry.”
    Olivia opened her mouth to speak and burst into tears.
    “Oh, dear,” Elizabeth said. Getting up, she closed the door to the morning room and came back to sit next to Olivia, who was taking in deep gulps of air in an attempt to control her sobs. Elizabeth patted her hand, giving her time to compose herself.
    “You must think me a complete ninny.” Olivia wiped her nose on the white laced handkerchief she retrieved from her pocket.
    “I don’t know what to think, dear. You’re quite pale, and seem to have lost a few pounds.” She sighed. “I’m afraid you are about to tell me an unhappy story.”
    “Yes, I’m afraid my tale is somewhat unpleasant.” Taking a deep breath, Olivia related the account of her arranged marriage, the wedding itself, and how things had progressed from there—or not progressed. When she finished her story, a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. In fact, she had the strangest urge to dance around the room and throw her head back with laughter in a most unladylike manner.
    “Well. A truly dreadful story.” Elizabeth eyed her with sympathy. “But right now I think you should have a nice hot bath, and rest before dinner. My husband will be joining us tonight, and I cannot wait for Grif to see you again.” She rose and rang the bell next to the door.
    “Rose, please see Lady Coventry settled. Mrs. Deacon has readied the blue room.” Elizabeth took Olivia’s arm and walked with her to the bottom of the stairs.
    “Lady Coventry will also require a bath.”
    “Yes, my lady.”
    Elizabeth led Olivia up the stairs. “Dinner is at seven o’clock tonight. Grif and I are having a night at home. It will be good for you to rest up. We will be busy tomorrow.” She smiled warmly.
    “Busy?” Olivia said, her eyebrows raised.
    “We will discuss it at dinner, dear. Now go have your bath and rest. I will see you later.”
    The room Olivia had been assigned was beautifully decorated in pale blues and the same deep violet of her eyes. Even though it was early April, a lively fire blazed in the hearth, taking the damp chill from the air. Rose bustled around the room, hanging up Olivia’s dresses and gowns while a stream of maids carried in buckets of hot water for the tub set up in front of the fireplace.
    The soothing bath felt wonderful after the long trip. Her sore muscles relaxed and she felt better than she had in a long, long time. Rose helped her wash her hair, then combed it out in front of the fire. After it was sufficiently dry, Olivia climbed into the soft bed and fell sound asleep.

    “Time to get ready for dinner, my lady.”
    Olivia opened her eyes to see Rose carrying one of her gowns. She laid it carefully on the bottom of the bed, running her hand over the smooth peach muslin.
    “I pressed your gown for you, so it will be all ready for dinner. Once we get you into this, I’ll have a go at your hair. I’ve been doing her ladyship’s styles for a while now and she is pleased.”
    “Thank you, that will be fine, Rose.”
    The nap having fully restored her, Olivia felt an enthusiasm she had missed for weeks. She was finally here in London and staying with her closest friend. This visit was the antidote she needed for the tediousness her life had become. She had no idea how she would go on from here, but at least optimism was now part of the