Chapter One
As the orchestra played the beginning notes of the next dance, Olivia Donovan stared at the young man standing before her, not sure why he looked so expectant.
Serena nudged her in the ribs. “Hold out your hand,” she whispered into Olivia’s ear.
Olivia did so, and Mr. Elward blew out a breath, apparently in relief. He took her hand in his own and bowed so low over it his blond hair brushed against her forearm. He pressed his lips to the top of her glove. “It was a pleasure, Miss Donovan.”
With a furtive glance at Serena, who nodded in encouragement, Olivia smiled. “The pleasure was mine. Thank you.”
The dance had been pleasurable—far more so than she’d anticipated. In her first ever foray onto a dance floor in a sparkling London ballroom, she’d maintained a proper, polite conversation with her partner while managing not to step on anyone’s toes. It had been a great success, really.
After bowing to Serena and murmuring, “Lady Stratford,” Mr. Elward disappeared into the crowd, leaving Olivia alone with her sister for the moment. Turning to face Serena, she expelled a deep breath. Serena grinned, obviously reading her expression—
Thank heavens it’s over—and thank God I managed not to do anything stupid!
—properly.
“You did it.” She spoke loudly enough to be heard over the orchestra yet softly enough that no one else could hear her. “See? It wasn’t so bad.”
“You’re right,” Olivia admitted. “It wasn’t bad at all.” Surprising, considering that she’d been convinced she would make a fool of herself in front of all of London’s beau monde. “I have a feeling that the more I do this, the more I shall enjoy it.”
She reached up to press her hand to her hair, which had been styled into tight curls then pinned under a feathery white bandeau. Serena had ordered Olivia’s dress from Paris, and it was the most beautiful thing Olivia had ever seen—white satin and tulle trimmed in cerulean with a wide skirt, a tight bodice, and short sleeves with such a large puff to them that Olivia couldn’t hold her hands straight down at her sides.
Seeing Olivia’s nervous gesture, Serena smiled. “Your hair is perfect,” she assured her. “Not a strand out of place, I promise.”
A laughing couple walked by, the lady around Olivia’s age, wearing silver and pearls, and the gentleman easily twice as old, gazing upon the young woman with fawn-like adoration.
“I’m so glad your first dance was a success,” Serena said after they’d passed. “Jessica’s already enjoying herself as well, but then, of course, we all knew she’d assimilate easily into London society.”
“Everything comes easily for Jessica.”
Both sisters gazed over at the dance floor, where Jessica, their youngest sister, was talking in animated tones to her partner, a handsome, young, and quite eligible baronet, as they clasped their hands high and circled another couple.
“I think her ease in any given situation is a product of her being the youngest,” Serena said. “But I admit I was worried about you, Olivia. I know you would have preferred to stay home tonight. I’m so glad you are having a good time.”
“What about you?” Olivia asked, wanting to take the focus of the conversation off herself. “I saw a gentleman speaking with you earlier. When are you going to dance?”
Serena shrugged but wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I think I’d prefer to wander about with my champagne and talk to acquaintances and watch you and Jessica.”
Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Who was that gentleman? Did he ask you to dance?”
Serena sighed. “That was Lord Sotheby. He came over to congratulate me on my marriage, and, yes, he did ask me to dance.”
“And you declined?”
“Yes.”
Olivia hadn’t been in London long, and she hardly knew her new brother-in-law, the Earl of Stratford, who’d insisted she call him by his given name, Jonathan. But she hadn’t needed to be in Serena’s
As the orchestra played the beginning notes of the next dance, Olivia Donovan stared at the young man standing before her, not sure why he looked so expectant.
Serena nudged her in the ribs. “Hold out your hand,” she whispered into Olivia’s ear.
Olivia did so, and Mr. Elward blew out a breath, apparently in relief. He took her hand in his own and bowed so low over it his blond hair brushed against her forearm. He pressed his lips to the top of her glove. “It was a pleasure, Miss Donovan.”
With a furtive glance at Serena, who nodded in encouragement, Olivia smiled. “The pleasure was mine. Thank you.”
The dance had been pleasurable—far more so than she’d anticipated. In her first ever foray onto a dance floor in a sparkling London ballroom, she’d maintained a proper, polite conversation with her partner while managing not to step on anyone’s toes. It had been a great success, really.
After bowing to Serena and murmuring, “Lady Stratford,” Mr. Elward disappeared into the crowd, leaving Olivia alone with her sister for the moment. Turning to face Serena, she expelled a deep breath. Serena grinned, obviously reading her expression—
Thank heavens it’s over—and thank God I managed not to do anything stupid!
—properly.
“You did it.” She spoke loudly enough to be heard over the orchestra yet softly enough that no one else could hear her. “See? It wasn’t so bad.”
“You’re right,” Olivia admitted. “It wasn’t bad at all.” Surprising, considering that she’d been convinced she would make a fool of herself in front of all of London’s beau monde. “I have a feeling that the more I do this, the more I shall enjoy it.”
She reached up to press her hand to her hair, which had been styled into tight curls then pinned under a feathery white bandeau. Serena had ordered Olivia’s dress from Paris, and it was the most beautiful thing Olivia had ever seen—white satin and tulle trimmed in cerulean with a wide skirt, a tight bodice, and short sleeves with such a large puff to them that Olivia couldn’t hold her hands straight down at her sides.
Seeing Olivia’s nervous gesture, Serena smiled. “Your hair is perfect,” she assured her. “Not a strand out of place, I promise.”
A laughing couple walked by, the lady around Olivia’s age, wearing silver and pearls, and the gentleman easily twice as old, gazing upon the young woman with fawn-like adoration.
“I’m so glad your first dance was a success,” Serena said after they’d passed. “Jessica’s already enjoying herself as well, but then, of course, we all knew she’d assimilate easily into London society.”
“Everything comes easily for Jessica.”
Both sisters gazed over at the dance floor, where Jessica, their youngest sister, was talking in animated tones to her partner, a handsome, young, and quite eligible baronet, as they clasped their hands high and circled another couple.
“I think her ease in any given situation is a product of her being the youngest,” Serena said. “But I admit I was worried about you, Olivia. I know you would have preferred to stay home tonight. I’m so glad you are having a good time.”
“What about you?” Olivia asked, wanting to take the focus of the conversation off herself. “I saw a gentleman speaking with you earlier. When are you going to dance?”
Serena shrugged but wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I think I’d prefer to wander about with my champagne and talk to acquaintances and watch you and Jessica.”
Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Who was that gentleman? Did he ask you to dance?”
Serena sighed. “That was Lord Sotheby. He came over to congratulate me on my marriage, and, yes, he did ask me to dance.”
“And you declined?”
“Yes.”
Olivia hadn’t been in London long, and she hardly knew her new brother-in-law, the Earl of Stratford, who’d insisted she call him by his given name, Jonathan. But she hadn’t needed to be in Serena’s
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