To Catch a Groom

“I saw you walking on the grounds earlier, Signorina.”

Max’s 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. Swim with me.”

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

“I’m not wearing a swimsuit.”

“Does it matter?” came the breathtaking question.

With great daring, Greer slipped off her gold sandals, left her gold watch and gold lamé clutch bag on a table near the deep end of the pool, then dove in headfirst—still fully clothed!

Dear Reader,

I came from a family of five sisters and one brother. The four oldest girls were my parents’ first family. There was a space before my baby sister and baby brother came along.

My mother called the first four her little women, and gave each of us a Madame Alexander doll from the Little Women series based on the famous book by Louisa May Alcott. We may not have been quadruplets, but we were close in age and definitely felt a connection to each other that often meant we tuned into each other’s thoughts as we sang, played, studied and traveled together.

In our early twenties I recall a time when I took the train from Paris, France, where I’d been studying, to meet one of my sisters at the port in Genoa, Italy, where her ship came in from New York. She was returning to school in Perugia, Italy. Some of my choicest memories are our glorious adventures as two blond American sisters on vacation along the French and Italian rivieras, dodging Mediterranean playboys.

When I conceived The Husband Fund trilogy for Harlequin Romance®, I have no doubt the idea of triplet sisters coming to Europe on a lark to intentionally meet some gorgeous Riviera playboys sprang to life from my own family experiences at home and abroad.

Meet Greer, Olivia and Piper, three characters drawn from my imagination who probably have traits from all four of my wonderful, intelligent, talented sisters in their makeup.

Enjoy!

Rebecca Winters

Book 2: To Win His Heart, Harlequin Romance #3827

Book 3: To Marry for Duty, Harlequin Romance #3835

www.rebeccawinters-author.com

To Catch a Groom

Rebecca Winters

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ONE

April 14, Kingston, New York

GREER DUCHESS could tell by tapping feet and shifting bodies that her sisters were getting antsy. “We’re almost through, guys. For November is it agreed we’ll go with Ginger Rogers Did Everything Fred Astaire Did, But She Did It Backward And In High Heels?”

“Like I said before, not everyone who buys our calendars knows who Ginger Rogers is,” Olivia spoke up.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? Piper’s drawing is so wonderful they’ll still get the point,” Greer murmured, making a unilateral decision on the spot. She adored the stylized cartoons of Luigio and Violetta, the two winsome Italian pigeons who were in love with each other.

Though Piper did the actual drawings, and Olivia headed sales, Greer was the instigator and power behind their business enterprise.

“Moving on, here are the choices we narrowed down for December. Behind Every Successful Man Is A Surprised Woman, and, A Man’s Got To Do What A Man’s Got To Do. A Woman’s Got To Do What He Can’t.”

Piper got up and stretched her softly rounded body. “I liked both those sayings the first time you thought them up.”

“I still like them,” Olivia asserted. “Your clever mind never ceases to impress me, Greer. You make the decision. We trust your judgment,” she said, rising to her feet on long, shapely legs. “Now we’ve really got to go or we’ll be late for the reading of Daddy’s will. We’re supposed to be there at ten.”

“Okay. Get the car started while I e-mail this to Don. It’ll take me two secs.”

Within a minute the sent message appeared on the computer screen. She felt relief that next year’s calendar entitled, For Women Only, would be printed and ready for distribution in May which was only a few weeks away.

Don Jardine, one of several guys she and her sisters had been dating, was the owner of the print shop. He did a terrific job for them.

Unfortunately he kept hinting that he wanted her to take him seriously because he’d fallen for her. But she wasn’t in love with him. Lately she’d found excuses not to go out with him anymore. If they could just remain business friends…

All things considered, Duchesse Designs—her brain child inspired by their only illustrious female ancestor and heroine—the Duchess of Parma, a woman in advance of her time—was doing much better than her initial conservative estimates indicated.

With orders from all over the country quadrupling since Christmas, she and her sisters were going to make a substantial profit. For the first time in five years they would be able to invest part of their earnings while they put the rest back into their company.

Naturally that was going to mean more money for Don and make him happy, too. Maybe happy enough to forgive her? She had yet to find that out. If he sent a reply e-mail that she’d better take her business to someone else, then she would have her answer.

After turning on the answering machine, she dashed out of the basement apartment to join her sisters.

All the rituals of laying their beloved father to rest had been observed except for this visit to Mr. Carlson’s office. It was a formality. Once it was behind them, they’d be able to channel their sorrow by expanding their growing business.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the law firm in downtown Kingston, New York. The receptionist showed them into the conference room where a TV and DVD player had been set up.

Soon after they’d sat down, Mr. Carlson walked in with a legal file under one arm. He greeted them, shook hands, then took his place at the end of the rectangular conference table.

“Your father asked me to read you a letter he wrote in his own hand.” He opened the file and drew it out. Once his bifocals were in place, he cleared his throat.

“To my darling daughters Greer, Piper and Olivia, whom I’ve always referred to as my precious pigeons. You came along after I turned fifty and had despaired of ever giving your mother children—

“If Walter Carlson has assembled you for the reading of this will, then it means my troublesome old ticker finally gave out and you’ve already been informed that our humble home has to be sold to pay all the medical expenses.

“I wish I could have left it to you, but it wasn’t meant to be. At least you aren’t saddled with debts. Walt will pay the latest bills and is taking care of everything. He’s aware you need time to find another place to live. Therefore he will be the one to let you know how soon you must move out.

“My greatest sadness is that none of you has ever shown the slightest inclination to marry. It worried your mother before she died, and it upsets me even more. I remember her last words to you: find a good man to marry right away and settle down to raise a family. My last words echo hers.

“To that end I’m bequeathing $5,000 to each of you. It’s from the Husband Fund your mother and I created before she passed away. You can spend it any way you want so long as it’s used in the pursuit of a spouse to help you enjoy this life to the fullest.

“You will receive those checks today. For this day and age it’s not much, but it’s given with all my love. I know my girls will be fine because you’re intelligent, talented, resourceful and have created a solid Internet business since college. However as you will discover when you put this money to the proper use, there’s more to life than earning a living.

“To stimulate your thinking, I’m insisting you remain in Walt’s office to watch your mother’s favorite classic. Humor me and make your old dad happy. I want only the best for my beautiful girls. You and your mother always were my greatest joy.

“Signed, Your loving, concerned father, Matthew Duchess, February 2, Kingston, New York.”

When Mr. Carlson finished reading the letter and looked up, Greer turned her blond head to eye her fair-haired sisters seated around the table.

Because their dad’s health had been deteriorating long before they’d buried him six weeks ago, they’d already been through the most painful part of their mourning period. Certainly with all the bills owing to the extra health care costs for both their mom and dad, the idea of an inheritance had never crossed their minds.

To find out their parents had left them any money at all came as a total surprise. But the mention of a Husband Fund completely soured the gift for Greer.

Not only that…she balked at the idea of being forced to view the film their funny, dear mom must have seen too many times to count.

It was one of those Hollywood movies about three women who decide to get married and scheme to find a millionaire in the process. However their mother had never been able to get Greer to watch it because Greer found the concept utterly absurd.

If a woman wanted that kind of money, she didn’t need a man. All she had to do was become a millionaire herself!

But their mother had been born in a different era with a completely different mind-set about a woman’s choices in life.

Being a hopeless romantic, she’d named her nonidentical triplets for her favorite movie stars. In fact she’d raised her daughters on fairy tales.

Greer had never been a great proponent of them.

While Olivia and Piper swooned over the beautiful girl ending up with the handsome prince just because she was beautiful, Greer often upset her sisters by fabricating her own renditions.

She much preferred that the beautiful, innocent, helpless heroine use her brain to figure out a financial scheme to buy the castle and lands from Prince Charming who needed a lot more going for him than charm to attract her and win her hand in marriage.

Greer had shocked their mother when she’d told her it was probably a man who’d thought up all those fractured fairy tales.

It wasn’t that Greer had anything against men per se. In fact she loved to date and often tripled dated with her sisters. Don and his friends had been the latest bunch of guys they’d gone out with as a group. But she drew the line at a serious relationship.

There was plenty of time for marriage in the future. Her own parents hadn’t married until much later in life when they were finally ready to settle down and have a family. That was good enough for her.

Many times Greer, the oldest of the triplets who’d always espoused the “all for one, one for all” theory, had told her sisters that getting married would spoil the fun of building the business they’d started from scratch to see how far they could take it.

She glanced back at the attorney. “Do we have to stay and watch the film?”

“Only if you want your five thousand dollars. That was your father’s stipulation. If you choose not to sit through the viewing, I’m to give the money to the cancer foundation in your mother’s memory.” His brows lifted. “For what it’s worth, I’ve seen it several times and enjoy it more every time.”

Greer rolled her eyes in disbelief, ready to bolt, but her sisters made no move to leave. Deep down she knew why. As much as the three of them hated the idea of being a captive audience to such a ridiculous movie, they were faced with a moral dilemma.

Because of the restrictions about the money, it was no good to them and would never be spent. But they couldn’t walk out now. That would be like throwing everything back in their parents’ faces. The sobering realization that they’d had the best mother and father in the world kept them nailed to their chairs.

After crossing one long, elegant leg over the other, Greer waited while Mr. Carlson, who had to be in his seventies, moved the TV closer.

Once he started the DVD, she sat back in the leather chair prepared to suffer through another story no doubt written, produced and cast by men, for men.

Not only was the movie much worse than she’d thought, Mr. Carlson was glued to the screen, glassy eyed. Ten minutes into the film and Greer had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter.

Flashing her sisters a covert glance, she sensed they were having the same problem. But out of respect for their father’s wishes, they managed to contain themselves.

When the show came to an end, a collective silence filled the room before Mr. Carlson realized it was time to shut off the DVD.

He turned to them. “Would thirty days give you girls enough time to vacate the house?”

“We’ve already moved to Mrs. Weyland’s basement apartment across the street from us,” Greer informed him.

The girls nodded. “We left our home spotless.”

“The keys are in this envelope along with a paper that lists our cell phone numbers and the address of our new apartment.” Greer pushed it toward him before she shot out of her chair, ready to go.

He rose more slowly and handed them their checks. “You’re as remarkable and self-sufficient as your father always told me you were. Yet I could hope for your sakes you’ll take your parents’ advice.” He stared pointedly at Greer. “Women weren’t meant to be on their own.”

The man’s sincerity couldn’t be doubted. But his comment happened to be one of the twelve comments appearing on the calendar she’d thought up last year featuring Men’s Most Notable Quotes About Women. The calendar had been an instant success.

Greer didn’t dare look at her sisters or she would have cracked up on the spot. Hilarity had been building inside her. She couldn’t stifle it any longer. They had to get out of there quick!

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Carlson.”

So saying, Greer made a beeline for the door, clutching the check in hand. Her sisters followed.

They hurried down the hall to the crowded elevator. By some miracle they reached their father’s old Pontiac parked around the corner before they exploded 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 thoughts leaped ahead. “We’ll do business while we’re there so we can write off our trip as an expense on our taxes. It shouldn’t be difficult to find someone to translate our calendars into various languages and distribute them for us. It might be the start of something really big.”

Piper’s eyes gleamed. “In time Violetta and Luigio could become household words all over Europe. Just don’t forget we’ll have to honor Daddy’s wishes by trying our hardest to snag a husband at the same time,” she reminded them.

“It’ll be a piece of cake,” Olivia declared. “As soon as we let it be known we’re duchesses, our unsuspecting victims will fall all over us.”

“And we know why, don’t we,” Greer said with a definite smirk. “Because they’re nothing but a bunch of impoverished adventurers who prey on wealthy women and prefer to marry a titled one if possible.” One delicately arched brow lifted.

“Their black moment will come when we smile sweetly and admit we’re the poor American duchesses. ‘Sorry. No tiara.’ So if they want to take back their proposals…”

Piper shook her head at Greer. “You’re wicked.”

“Terrible,” Olivia concurred.

“Not as terrible as they are. Just watch the bodies fall!” Greer eyed her sisters with unholy glee. “Let’s go inside and make our plans while we eat lunch.”

Piper was the first one out of the car. Olivia followed. “If we hurry, we can apply for passports before the place closes today.”

Greer brought up the rear. “Airfares are really cheap to Europe right now, which is good news since we’ll need new wardrobes.”

“If we’re going to do this thing right, maybe we should charter a private yacht.”

“I’m way ahead of you but I don’t think we could afford it.”

“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.”