The Husband Fund

“It wouldn’t hurt to find out,” Olivia said. “Maybe if it were a small one?”

Once inside the apartment Greer hurried over to the computer in the living room, which they’d made into their office. The girls hovered around while she did a dozen searches of yachting services.

“Hmm. I’m afraid they’re out of our price range. So far the best we can do is charter a crewed sailboat for twelve people. It’s $5,000 a week per person if the boat is full at the time of departure. That’s no good.”

Piper leaned over Greer’s shoulder. “Just for fun, click to the crewed catamaran listings. It’s says they’re cheaper.”

When the information appeared on the screen, they studied the names of the boats with avid interest.

“Look!” Olivia blurted. “There’s one called the Piccione.”

Greer had already spotted the Italian word for pigeon. Their dad had always called his daughters his “pigeons” because of the beautiful white Duchesse pigeon the Italians had named in honor of the Duchess of Parma. Just for fun she clicked to it. After the specifics popped up, she read them aloud.

“This immaculate, white, fifty-one-foot sloop sleeps two to six guests. Crew of three. Full amenities, three meals per day. $3,000 per person. Ten days on the Mediterranean.

“Ten guys! Plan your own itinerary. The swift way to get close to any beach. Contact F. Moretti, Vernazza, Italy.”

Olivia nudged Greer. “That’s what you call exclusive at the right price. It must be destiny! E-mail them and find out if they have any openings left for this summer or early fall.”

“Do we care which month?”

They both shook their heads.

After sending an inquiry, Greer joined them in the kitchen. They hurriedly ate sandwiches before rummaging around for their birth certificates.

Once those were found, they left for the passport office. En route they stopped to get their passport pictures taken, reminding them they all needed a new hairdo to go with their new duchess look.

An hour later they started for home. On the way Piper noticed a travel agency. She told Olivia to stop the car so she could run inside and get some brochures.

On the way back to the apartment, they almost got into an argument because everyone wanted to savor the brochure on Vernazza. Greer had to admit the place sounded like heaven.

One of the most unspoilt areas of the Mediterranean. To visit Vernazza is to visit the Cinque Terre, a kingdom of nature and wild scents; five villages suspended between sea and sky, clinging on to cliffs and surrounded by green hills. Who visits Cinque Terre can choose between a dive in the sea, a hike in the hills, a walk in the narrow “carruggi,” or a boat trip to a sanctuary or to a seafood lunch.

Piper was the first to reach the computer after they’d entered the apartment.

“We’ve got an answer to our e-mail!”

Greer and Olivia leaned over her shoulder while she read it to them.

“Thank you for your inquiry. Due to an unexpected cancellation, the June 18 slot is available. Woohoo!” She jumped up and down in the swivel chair.

“You are very fortunate since the twentieth is the date of the Grand Prix in Monaco where we have docking privileges. If you wish to take advantage, you must advise us immediately.”

Piper swung around in the chair. “Monaco, guys. The playground of the rich and ‘wannabe’ rich and famous. The Grand Prix! Think, Olivia— Maybe you’ll be able to see that dashing French race car driver you talk about all the time. The one that puts Fred’s nose out of joint every time you mention him.”

“It’s Fred’s fault if he introduced me to Formula I racing. Wouldn’t it be something to bring home Cesar Villon’s autograph?” Olivia’s eyes were shining.

Greer was thinking it would be even more exciting to meet an Italian from their own Duchesse family who could provide the documentation proving their relationship to the Duchess of Parma.

“Piper? Find out if they’ll accept another thousand a piece from us so we can have the boat to ourselves.”

“Ooh, I forgot about that, Greer. Good idea. I don’t dare tell Tom about this or he’ll want to come along.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It isn’t as if you’re in love with him.”

“How do you know?”

“Well are you?”

“Maybe.”

“Then ten days away from him will prove it one way or the other. Right?”

“I suppose so.” Piper finished typing the question and sent an instant message.

While they waited for an answer, Greer studied one of the brochures with a map detailing the Mediterranean coastline bordering Europe.

Another shriek of delight came out of Piper. “They’re willing if we pay in full now.”

“Before we commit, we’ve got to find out if we can get plane reservations,” Greer cautioned.

“I’ve already inquired.” Olivia put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Everything’s booked solid into Milan, Rome and Bologna, but we could still get seats to Genoa for June 16, returning June 29.”

Greer looked at the map once more. “That’s only fifty or so miles from Vernazza,” she estimated aloud. “We could take a train and find a hotel for the 17 and 28. Book those flights for us, Olivia!”

Piper turned to Greer. “How do we want to pay for the boat?”

She pulled the wallet out of her purse. “Here. Use our business credit card to pay the bill in full. Let them know it’s the Duchess of Kingston of the House of Parma-Bourbon making a reservation for an exclusive party of three, and you want that information kept confidential.”

When the deed was done, their laughter bounced off the living-room walls.

“That was good thinking, Greer. Now it’s guaranteed word will leak out,” Olivia murmured. “We’ll have to arrive at the dock looking sensational.”

“Oh—” Piper cried. “You just made me think of something else. Remember that Paris elevator scene in the film about the American girl whose fiancé falls in love with a French girl? Remember the knockout dress she had on?”

Olivia’s delicate brows arched. “Who could forget? We ought to be able to find inexpensive outfits and beachwear like the ones she wore. Maybe a hat or two? No one will know we didn’t pay a fortune for them.”

“Not if we wear our pendants,” Piper inserted.

“Exactly. The men we’re targeting survive by going after women with jewels. Without a jeweler’s loupe, they won’t be able to detect the fakes from the original.” To this day Greer couldn’t tell the difference.

“Then it’s settled! We’ll arrive in Italy wearing our pendants and see what happens! Since we have to stay at a hotel the first night we get there, I say we make a big splash. What’s the most exclusive one in Genoa?”

“Just a sec, Olivia.”

Piper got busy on the Internet once more. “Hmm…how about the Splendido in nearby Portofino, first discovered by the Duke of Windsor. ‘Preferred by royals overlooking Portofino harbor, gateway to the Riviera.’ Twelve hundred Eurodollars a night for the three of us. It’s about twenty-five miles from the airport and they have limo service. Do you guys think it’s worth it?”

Both Greer and Olivia nodded.

“So do I. Let me check to see if there’s a room available for the seventeenth. By the time the twenty-eighth rolls around, we’ll have had our fun and can stay in a youth hostel if our funds are running low.”

Greer’s eyes narrowed. “A hostel will be the perfect place to invite our ‘would be’ husbands when we drop our little bombs.”

Olivia started chuckling. “You have no heart.”

“You’re scary,” Piper told Greer.

She gave them her innocent look. “Did Cinderella have a choice when the carriage turned into a pumpkin on the way home, leaving her with one glass slipper?

“Can we help it if all we’ll have to show for our attendance at the ball is the pendant we were wearing when we arrived?”

CHAPTER TWO

June 17, House of Lords, England

“MY LORDS, we will begin by hearing the opening statement from Signore Maximilliano di Varano of the House of Parma-Bourbon. He is the chief counselor avvocato for the Emilia-Romagna Farmers Consorzio of Italy, of which the Federazione del Prosciutto de Parma, a member, is the appellant in the case brought against the United Kingdom Supermarket Cartel, known as UKSC, represented by Lord Winthrope.”

Back in the House of Lords for the second time in a year, Max got to his feet, determined his appeal would force the case to be moved to the European Court of Justice for a definitive decision.

“Thank you, my lords,” he began with virtually no trace of accent, thanks to an elite private school education that included four years at Oxford and extensive travel in the U.S. and Canada with his cousins.

“To refresh your memories, Prosciutto de Parma, or Parma ham, has been made in Parma from pigs reared in northern and central Italy since Etruscan times. It is famous throughout the world with a name that is a protected designation of origin.

“The Corona Ducale, a five-pointed coronet symbolizing the ancient Duchy of Parma, is the outward guarantee of authenticity. According to Italian law, it has to appear upon the product in whatever form it is sold to the customer. If he buys a complete ham, or slices cut up at a shop, it has to bear the brand. If he buys prepackaged slices, it must appear stamped on the package.

“The second respondent, Prime Choice Affiliates, is a reputable food processor in Herefordshire that prepares packages of authentic Parma ham slices and pieces to be sold to the first respondent, UKSC, which sells them to the public in its supermarkets. Unfortunately it’s done without the Corona Ducale on the package.

“The Federazione del Prosciutto de Parma maintains this is an unlawful practice under Italian law, as well as European law, enforceable in the courts of all the member states.

“In the present proceedings, the Federazione claims a continuing injunction against Prime Choice Affiliates and the UKSC, restraining them from marketing the packages as Parma ham until the European Court of Justice can hear the case and make a definitive ruling. I now yield my time back to Lord Winthrope.”

When Max sat down, his assistant, Bernaldo, handed him a note.

With one ear taking in the QC’s opening remarks, he read the message. But his mind was focused on the case to the degree that it didn’t register until he’d read it a second time.

Your secretary in Colorno just received a call from the head of security at Cristoforo Colombo airport in Genoa Sestri. You’re to phone Fausto Galli at 555 328 as soon as possible. It’s a classified matter of great importance.

Translated, it meant there was no crisis such as his own personal family or extended family being injured in an accident or some such thing. Relieved, he put the message in his suit pocket, making a mental note to call Signore Galli back during the recess.

For ten minutes Max listened while the QC pontificated. Finally the man came to the point.

“In my view there exists a fair argument that the supervisory role of the Parma Federation in ensuring that only the genuine product is sold as Parma ham, has been discharged once it leaves the Parma area. I yield back to Signore di Varano.”

Once again Max got up from the chair. “My lords, the issue here is whether the Federazione del Prosciutto de Parma’s prohibitions contained in a legislative measure of a member state can achieve community wide effect to the U.K. and elsewhere. Therefore I respectfully appeal this case to the European Court of Justice. Otherwise it will continue to remain at an impasse which achieves nothing for either party.”

Following his remarks, presiding judge Lord Marbury announced a fifteen-minute recess. Curious to discover what the call from Genoa was all about, Max pulled the cell phone from his breast pocket and dialed the number written on the paper.

He only had to wait two rings before he heard a male voice say, “Pronto. Signore di Varano?”

“Si?”

“It is an honor to speak to you. I have some news that I know will be of great interest to your family. Since you handle its legal affairs, I felt it prudent to alert you first.”

“Go ahead, signore.”

“A half hour ago three American women passed through customs after deboarding their flight from New York. My men detained them using the excuse they were vetting incoming passengers for information due to a suspicious person being aboard the plane. In truth, it was discovered they’re each wearing the Duchesse pendant.”

“Each?” Max shook his dark head in exasperation. “That’s impossible!”

There was only one pendant in existence, but it could be anywhere because well over a year ago the Duchess of Parma jewelry collection on display at the family palace in Colorno had been stolen.

The pendant was the least valuable of the items taken in terms of monetary worth, however its historical and sentimental value was inestimable, especially to Max’s family.

“Did you consult an expert?”

“Si. During the interrogation, photographs were taken. They were enhanced for our forensics expert who compared them against the photo of the pendant you had distributed to the police after the theft. They were a perfect match.”

Max blinked in astonishment.

“That’s why I’m calling you, Signore di Varano. Do you wish me to confiscate the pendants so they can be examined? So far the Americans still don’t know why they’re being detained.”

“That’s good. Let’s leave it that way for now. I appreciate your discretion and quick thinking, Signore Galli. You’ve handled the situation perfectly.

“However we’ve had many leads since news of the theft was made public and a reward for its return was offered. So far all the leads have turned out to be false. But I must admit this little joke initiated by some brazen Americans was meant to draw attention for a reason. One can only wonder why.”

“My very thought, particularly since the joke gets even stranger.”

The odd inflection in the other man’s voice intrigued Max. “Explain what you mean.”

“They’re sisters.”

“You mean professed nuns?”

“No, no. They are the same age with the same birthday.”

“Triplets?” You didn’t see that every day. “How old are they?”

“Ventisette.”

Twenty-seven and already leading a life of crime…

“Molto bellissima!”

Beautiful, of course.

“Their paperwork states they are the Duchesses of Kingston from New York.”

Duchesses of Kingston?

Max flicked his gaze to Lord Winthrope. If such a title existed, the esteemed QC would know who they were in an instant.

“Unfortunately I’m in London and can’t return to Genoa before evening to investigate this matter. Did you find out their purpose for being in Italy?”

“They claim to be on vacation with a little business thrown in. We checked the information they gave us. It’s been verified they’re booked at the Splendido tonight and have chartered a sailboat for tomorrow.”

“From Portofino?”

“No. Vernazza.”

A frown slowly replaced Max’s smile. That little bomb-shell hit too close to home to be a coincidence.

Two years ago he’d given the Piccione to his good friend Fabio and his two younger brothers after their parents had been lost at sea in the family fishing boat. The Morettis now made their living crewing for tourists.

To his friend’s credit and business prowess, he’d paid Max back every last Euro, though Max had never asked or expected repayment. For twenty months like clockwork he’d received a good-size installment with a note of heart-felt gratitude from the man he didn’t see nearly as often as he would have liked.

Besides watching after his brothers, Fabio now had a wife and they were expecting their second baby. Since they ran the only sailboat charter business in the tiny town which had been Max’s backyard growing up, he knew exactly where to find these Americans. That is if they intended to stick to their agenda once they were freed to leave the airport.

“You may release them, Signore Galli, but have them followed and closely watched. After my flight touches down I’ll make contact with you.”

“Bene. Arrivederci.”

After hanging up the phone, Max wrote a note on his scratch pad. He asked Bernaldo to hand carry it to Lord Winthrope. “Wait for his answer and bring it back to me.”

Bernaldo went off to do Max’s bidding. He returned a few minutes later. Max opened the note, eager to read what the other man had to say in response.

Glad to be of help, Max.

Evelyn Pierrepont succeeded his grandfather as the second duke of Kingston. He was primarily famous for his liaison with Elizabeth Chudleigh, who claimed to be the Duchess of Kingston, but the Kingston titles became extinct on the duke’s death around 1733. He had no children. Hope that answers your question.

Indeed it did.

Max lifted his head and smiled at Lord Winthrope who smiled back.

So…these American women weren’t only audacious imposters, their impudence showed a certain shrewdness to pick an English title that had become extinct over two hundred years ago and pass it off as their own.

What kind of a game were they playing to come to Italy wearing pendants identical to the stolen one? Where did they get such an idea? Why would they do it?

“Much as I’d love to run to the room and change into my swimming suit, I’m too tired.”

“Jet lag’s caught up with me, too. Let’s go to bed. You coming, Greer?”

“In a minute—”

The magic of the balmy Genoese night held her in its thrall. She’d always dreamed of coming to Italy. Though ninety percent of their ancestry was English and Scotch-Irish, their father had favored their Italian-Austrian roots. As a result he’d infected Greer with that love.

“Okay. Just don’t make noise when you let yourself in.”

“I promise,” she said before their footsteps faded.

After several business meetings which might or might not produce a foothold in Europe, followed by a late dinner, they’d taken a walk to the San Giorgio church and visited the interior.

From there they’d strolled around the tropical gardens on the grounds of the Splendido, a former sixteenth-century monastery. They’d finally ended up at its outdoor pool overlooking Portofino harbor.

In Greer’s opinion the view was worth a king’s ransom. How their mother would have loved this flower-scented paradise.

There were quite a few guests climbing in and out of the water. Waiters moved around unobtrusively refilling champagne glasses. Every so often Greer caught snatches of conversation and laughter from beautiful men and women enjoying the elegant amenities of the privileged class.

As she stood next to a palm tree wearing her designer sundress in a stunning tangerine color, her attention was caught by a man doing laps with the speed and fluidity of a shark. A great black shark, if there were such a thing she mused fancifully.

Glimpses of a bronzed, well-toned male physique and jet-black hair kept her gaze riveted. Suddenly he levered himself from the water onto the tiled deck.

The shark had legs.

Strong, powerful legs that propelled his tall, black trunk-clad body past the admiring glances from women and the envious stares of men toward Greer.

His total disregard of the surroundings testified to his inbuilt radar system which had targeted its next victim. How easy her subconscious had made it for him by sending out the message that she wanted to see if all of him lived up to her image of the quintessential playboy.

All of him did…

From an aquiline face, whose Italian bones had been refined and molded down through the centuries, gleamed a pair of black eyes that resembled volcanoes erupting in the night sky. One intimate look from them beneath expressive black brows and she felt as if her body had come too close to the mesmerizing magma.

Burned alive would be the more accurate description.

The pulse in her throat throbbed so violently, she could feel it move the pendant she wore around her neck like a choker.

She watched him watching it. He’d taken the bait.

Piper would be especially pleased to find out her suggestion to wear the family heirloom had proved to be a winner their first night in Italy.

“I saw you walking on the grounds earlier, signorina.” His heavily accented English delivered in a deep masculine voice, vibrated to her insides. Its cadence sent a delicious tremor through her system even though the night was warm. “I hoped you would come to the pool.”

Of course he did.

“I noticed you, too,” she responded boldly, for once throwing her innate caution to the wind. “That’s why I didn’t go upstairs with my sisters.”

It was a lie. She hadn’t seen him. He was too much of a predator to have given himself away beforehand. Like his species, he’d lurked in the depths until it was time to make his attack.

“Swim with me.”

His ardent demand, whispered with a pulsating urgency that said his life wouldn’t be worth living if she didn’t consent, decided her.

“I’m not wearing a suit.”

“Does it matter?” came the breathtaking question.

She could have toyed with him a trifle longer and enjoyed every provocative minute of it. But in the end she decided not to tempt fate.

“No.”

The second she said the word, she saw something flare in the dark recesses of his eyes.

Had she surprised him with her answer? To her knowledge sharks didn’t have human emotions, only instincts that led them to their nearest prey.

Well, here I am… Let’s see how long it takes you to swallow me.

With great daring she slipped off her gold sandals, left her gold watch and gold lame clutch bag on a table near the deep end of the pool, then dove in headfirst.

Having lived along the Hudson River all their lives, their father had taught Greer and her sisters to be strong swimmers. As a result, it was their favorite sport which they enjoyed on a regular basis.

The bottom of this pool was tiled in a fabulous design. She swam lower to get a better look, but was halted in her quest when a strong pair of male hands found her hips and brought her swiftly to the surface.

She emerged with her neck-length hair plastered around her head, no longer the picture of classic royal grace. Unfortunately that wasn’t what disturbed her. It was the fact that her dress had ridden up to her waist, which meant nothing was separating his hands from her skin except her underwear.

With his arresting face only centimeters from hers, she would have to put on the performance of her life not to let him know how alarmed she was by this shocking turn of events.

“We haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Greer Duchess.”

“Greer,” he repeated softly. The way he pronounced it made even the hard “G” sound beautiful. His slow white smile dazzled her. “Your name is as unique as you are. What brings a beautiful American woman like you to Italy?”

It was time to try out the story she’d rehearsed. “My sisters and I are here to visit relatives.”

“Ah, yes?”

“Yes. My ancestor was the Duchess of Colorno.”

His black eyes flared in recognition. “You’re referring to Maria-Luigia of Austria of the House of Parma-Bourbon?”

So he knew his Italian history well enough to recognize the Duchesse pendant! This was so easy it was scary!

She couldn’t wait to tell Olivia and Piper she’d caught a real playboy on her first night! Now all she had to do was play him for a while before she reeled him in and got him to propose marriage.

When she unmasked herself, he would slip off the hook and swim away. Then she would be able to enjoy the rest of this fabulous vacation knowing she’d followed her father’s stipulation about the Husband Fund to the letter.

“Yes. That’s right. My sisters and I are the American descendants from her Duchesse line.” No need to add “the illegitimate line” at this juncture. “Now that I’ve told you something about myself, I’d like to know who you are,” she said in the most seductive tone she could produce.