"I am not duchess yet!" Livia cried.
"No," Mrs. Crowe said calmly. "Which means we still have time to prevent disaster."
Livia's lips parted.
The audacity.
Her irritation rose—not because she disliked the woman, but because Mrs. Crowe's certainty pressed too closely against old bruises. Livia did not want to be told what to do. "Tabitha....I will be going to the kitchen. I am quite sure you are not going to stop me."
Then Livia turned and walked out. That was the end of it.
******
Lady Bella received Livia's letter two days later. It arrived before dinner, sealed neatly and addressed in the careful hand Bella had come to recognise from their lessons.
Livia asked after her health first. She wanted to know whether the wound still troubled her, whether the physician was pleased with her recovery, and whether Bella had finally learned to remain in bed instead of wandering through Whitehall.
