To Catch a Groom. Rebecca Winters

with laughter.

      Since Olivia had a better sense of direction than the others, she always drove them when they were together.

      “After the first close-up of Betty Grable, I thought we were going to have to call emergency for Mr. Carlson!”

      “That generation’s hopeless.”

      “The movie was dreadful!”

      “But our mother loved it, bless her heart.”

      “And Daddy loved her!”

      “And we loved both of them, so what are we going to do about the—”

      “No—” Greer blurted. “Don’t say the ‘H’ word.”

      For the rest of the drive home they giggled like schoolgirls instead of twenty-seven-year-old women.

      When they pulled to a stop at the curb across the street from their old house, Olivia looked over her shoulder at Greer who was seated in the back. “Let’s go get us a new car. This one already has 122,000 miles on it.”

      That sounded like her impulsive sister. “Right this minute?”

      “Why not?”

      Before Greer could negate the suggestion, Piper, the romantic, shook her head. “With fifteen thousand dollars to put down, we could buy a new house. What do you think?”

      Greer, the pragmatic one, said, “I think I’m too exhausted to think.” It came out sounding grumpy because the Husband Fund money was untouchable and they all knew it.

      “Mrs. Weyland says we need a vacation,” Olivia muttered.

      Piper rested her head against the window. “I’d love to visit the Caribbean.”

      “Who wouldn’t, but we can’t go.”

      Both sisters blinked. “Why not?”

      Greer leaned forward. “Because it’s April. By the time we could get away from the business, it would be June. I think we could run into a hurricane.”

      “How do you know that?”

      “Our northeast distributor, Jan. She scuba dives there in February when the weather is perfect.”

      “Then how about Hawaii?”

      Olivia wrinkled her nose at Piper. “Everybody complains it’s too touristy. I’d rather go someplace more exotic, like Tahiti.”

      “The airfare alone would be exorbitant.”

      “So what’s your suggestion?” Both sisters were waiting for Greer’s answer.

      “I don’t have one, and you guys know why.”

      Olivia’s eyes resembled the blue in a match flame when she felt strongly about something. “Then we’ll go through the motions of husband hunting in some wonderful place like Australia where the beaches are reputed to be the most beautiful in the world. Mrs. Weyland’s right, you know? We haven’t had a break in several years.”

      By now Piper’s irises were glowing an iridescent blue-green. “Daddy didn’t say we had to end up with a husband.”

      Greer could acknowledge she had a point. “You’re right. All he said was, you can spend the money any way you want so long as it’s used in the pursuit of a spouse. With $5,000 apiece, we should be able to go someplace exciting for a couple of weeks. I’m all for visiting the Great Barrier Reef.”

      “Or South America!” Olivia interjected. “Don’t forget Rio. Ipanema and Copacabana are supposed to be two of the most fabulous beaches on earth.”

      “Wait a minute—” Piper spread her hands in front of her. “Wherever we decide to spend our vacation, I’ve got this delicious idea how we’ll provide the bait to bring the men on fast!”

      Olivia smiled. “I bet I know what you’re thinking.”

      So did Greer. They’d all watched that idiotic film and weren’t triplets for nothing. “You mean turn things around by pretending we’re the millionaires?”

      “Why not?”

      Why not indeed. Greer realized it was a stretch, but if her business projections held true, they’d be doing very well for themselves by the time they were thirty.

      “Guys—” Piper broke in with dramatic flourish. “We have a lot more going for us than money. We’re titled! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Duchesses of Kingston!”

      Brilliant.

      So brilliant in fact, Greer was still staring at her talented sister in wonder when Olivia suddenly blurted, “The Duchesse pendant!”

      No one’s mind could leap faster from A to Z than Olivia’s.

      “Yes?” Greer prompted. “What about it?”

      The pendant was a gold rectangle. It was encrusted with amethysts surrounding a pearl-studded pigeon with a red-orange eye of pyrope garnet.

      According to the story their dad told them, a court artisan fashioned the pendant for the Duchess of Parma, otherwise known as Marie-Louise of Austria of the House of Bourbon. On the back of the pendant was a stylized “D” and “P.”

      When she died, one of her children inherited it, and then it was given to a granddaughter who passed it down through the Duchesse line until it fell into their father’s hands.

      In anticipation of their sixteenth birthday, Greer’s parents had gone to a jeweler who’d had two matching pendants fashioned using the original for a model so each of their daughters could have the same memento.

      “For your children to cherish,” their parents had said, giving them a loving hug and kiss along with the gift.

      Eleven years later and their daughters were still single. Greer assumed that one day they’d all be married and have families. She just didn’t know when, and couldn’t have cared less.

      “Think, my dear duchesses!” Olivia grinned. “Where is there a lovely beach with a whole bunch of gorgeous playboys running around looking to marry a titled woman wearing the family jewels?”

      “The Riviera, of course.”

      “Of course!” Greer’s sisters cried.

      “Except that we came through the illegitimate line of the House of Parma-Bourbon,” she reminded them.

      “Who cares? We are related!”

      “Only if the story’s true.”

      “Daddy seemed to think it was,” Piper reasoned, “otherwise how would he have ended up with the pendant?”

      “Somebody could have made up a tall tale about it that grew legs down through the years,” Greer reminded her sisters. “Still, we do have it in our possession, and no one’s been able to prove we’re not related. Anyway, you’ve given me an idea.

      “We know Marie-Louise went by three other titles; Duchess of Colorno, Duchess of Piacenza and Duchess of Guastalla. So what if we each took a title representing our relationship to her? We could outcon all the playboys we want.”

      At this point her sisters stared in awe at Greer whose eyes reflected the exact color of the Duchess of Parma violet.

      The flower had been named for their ancestor who loved violets so much, when she wrote letters she often left the imprint of the flower rather than her signature.

      A conspiratorial smile broke out on Olivia’s face. “I say we start on the Italian Riviera with one side trip to Parma and Colorno to see the palaces where she lived. Then work our way along the coast to the French and Spanish Riviera, letting it be known we’ve been in Italy visiting our…royal relations?”

      Brilliant! Sometimes Olivia’s innovative ideas reflected pure genius.

      Greer’s