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    Elizabeth−Olivia still didn’t think of her friend as Lady Lansdowne−and Lord Lansdowne waited for her as she entered the drawing room. A lovely place, with rose and green striped wallpaper, and a light green carpet. Her gaze immediately settled on a large painting of who had to be Elizabeth’s pride and joy, Evan. The portrait hung over the hearth in a place of honor. The furnishings in a rich chintz and damask had obviously been selected for comfort as well as style. Elizabeth had certainly put her mark on the room.
    “My, you look much better,” Elizabeth said as she joined her at the door, putting her arm around Olivia’s waist and urging her into the room.
    “Thank you. I feel much better as well.”
    A cheerful looking man, red-cheeked and slightly rotund, and only several inches taller than Olivia, turned from the table where he poured drinks. Lord Lansdowne approached his wife and handed her a small glass of sherry.
    Addressing her husband, Elizabeth said, “Grif, I’m sure you remember by dearest friend, Lady Coventry. She attended our wedding.”
    He bowed slightly and kissed her outstretched hand. “A pleasure to renew our acquaintance, my lady. Elizabeth has entertained me for quite some time with tales of your escapades at school.”
    Lord Lansdowne regarded his wife with unmistakable adoration. A brief twinge of envy flooded Olivia, soon followed by guilt. Elizabeth certainly deserved such love; she just wished such esteem could be hers as well.
    One brow arched as Lord Lansdowne studied her intently. “Coventry, you say?”
    “Yes, my lord.” Olivia lowered her eyes as she curtsied.
    “You must explain this to me, my lady. I have spent quite a bit of time with Coventry of late, and he neglected to mention a beautiful wife.”
    Elizabeth placed her hand on Lord Lansdowne’s sleeve. “For the time being, Grif, let’s not delve too closely into Coventry. Olivia is here for rest and a bit of entertainment. We’ll keep the remainder of the story our little secret for now.”
    “As you wish, my dear.”
    “My lady,” he directed to Olivia, “may I pour you a glass of sherry?”
    “No thank you, my lord.”
    Elizabeth clapped her hands. “Oh, we must stop this ‘my lord,’ ‘my lady’ business. It will be ‘Olivia’ and ‘Grif,’ if you please.”
    Grif inclined his head. “As always, I bow to your wishes, my dear. I am honored to escort two lovely ladies in to dinner.”
    Smiling, Olivia and Elizabeth each placed a hand on one of his sleeves and the group strolled toward the dining room.
    Olivia had a wonderful time. They dined on roast pheasant, broiled salmon, with a flavorsome herbal sauce, small potatoes in butter, and pears poached in a sweet sauce. Several footmen poured wine and saw to their every need. Grif proved to be an attentive and amusing host. He skillfully skirted any reference to Coventry and kept them laughing with stories about gentlemen of the ton , but only those accounts fit for ladies’ ears.

    “Dearest, we must be out early to Bond Street tomorrow for shopping.” Elizabeth and Olivia sat in the drawing room while Grif had retired to the library to enjoy his port.
    “Shopping?” Olivia’s eyes shifted to her friend.
    “Yes, you will need an entire new wardrobe for the Season. I know a fabulous modiste, who will love to dress you.”
    Olivia frowned. “I had intended to have several gowns made up before I left Italy, but with Father’s passing and dealing with all of that, I never found the time. But, I’m afraid I haven’t any money to spend on clothing until my father’s finances are settled.”
    “I beg to differ, dear friend. You are Lady Coventry with all the resources of his lordship.”
    “I am also a very unknown and neglected Lady Coventry,” Olivia said wryly.
    “No matter.” Elizabeth waved her hand in the air. “We will furnish you with a complete wardrobe and have the bills referred to your husband.” She viewed