As the singing ended, the drummers continued to play, and Auden loudly proclaimed, “I now pronounce you man and wife!” Everyone cheered as the newlyweds proceeded to dance down the aisle to the beat of the drums, joined by the rest of the bridal party. The Sultanah of Penang jumped out of her seat and joined the impromptu conga line, along with members of Dolfi’s family. The bride and groom danced all the way to an antique horsedrawn carriage waiting at the foot of the steps. Before getting in, Dolfi turned around, grinned roguishly at the crowd, and said, “Okay, wedding’s over. Let’s paaaaaarty!”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Villa Jovis

Capri, Italy

“I must admit that I found it all quite moving, didn’t you?” Charlotte said to Lucie as they sat in the golf cart that was whizzing them up the mountain after the ceremony.

“It was too beautiful for words. The flowers, the music, the vows, everything!” Lucie said with a half sigh.

“Now don’t go fantasizing that you’ll have a wedding that’s anything like this—your mother would have a heart attack!”

“Don’t worry, this isn’t what I want at all. I’d much rather have a simple ceremony on the dock at Dorset,fn1 maybe arriving by water on an old Chris-Craft driven by Freddie.”

“That sounds lovely. I’ve always thought that Dorset would be the perfect place for—Holy Mother of Joanna Gaines, what have we here?!” Charlotte gasped.

Appearing before them was a towering arch of vines and flowers made entirely of Venetian blown glass framing the approach to Villa Jovis, the great palace that Caesar Augustus had built himself on one of the highest points of Capri.

“Just when I thought things couldn’t get any crazier. This arch must be at least twenty feet tall!” Charlotte whispered to Lucie in awe as they got out of the golf cart. Standing under the fantastical arch was the bridal party, and Charlotte marveled for the hundredth time how Isabel had planned every moment so brilliantly. The sun was just beginning to set over the island, bathing the ruins in a shimmering golden light, but the bridal party went one step further—everyone under the arch, especially the bride, was cast in an iridescent glow from the reflected crystalline colors of the Venetian glass. The cousins noticed immediately that Issie had quickly added a striking blue Paraíba tourmaline-and-diamond necklace by Doris Hangartner to her wedding ensemble.

“Issie, you look so exquisite! And that was the most beautiful ceremony ever!” Lucie exclaimed as she gave both the bride and groom tight hugs.

“Wasn’t it? I can’t believe it’s really happened!” Isabel beamed with joy.

Charlotte leaned in to give Isabel a peck on the cheek. “Congratulations, both of you! Now, Isabel, you must tell me who designed your dress! Lucie swears it’s vintage Givenchy.”

“She’s partially right. The design is from his haute couture line in 1955, but I managed to lure Monsieur de Givenchy himself out of retirement just this once to re-create it for me.”

“Stop it!” The cousins squealed in unison.

“Yep, I had to go to Le Jonchetfn2 for all the fittings.”

Lucie and Charlotte shook their heads in awe, before moving down the receiving line to congratulate the newlyweds’ families. Entering the grounds of the villa afterward, they were handed delicate flutes of prosecco laced with elderflower syrup as they strolled around the palace ruins. Almost all the original decorations—including once magnificent frescos that must surely have outshone the best of Pompeii—had been lost to time and looters, but the structures still retained the impression of the majestic complex that had once stood here.

As they walked toward the cliff to look out at the view, they came upon Olivia and Rosemary staring intently into a monitor held up by one of the younger drone operators.

“What are you all staring at with such fascination?” Charlotte asked, ever the busybody, as she peered into the high-definition screen.

“Oh, this man is showing us a rather curious spot that he’s making the drone fly over,” Olivia said.

“We are standing right above Salto di Tiberio—Tiberius’s Leap. This is where the emperor would make all the subjects and servants that he didn’t like jump to their deaths,” the young man explained as he piloted his drone to fly sharply off the edge of the cliff toward the rocks hundreds of meters below.

“Well, that’s a view to die for!” Olivia quipped.

“There are a few servants of mine I wouldn’t mind doing that to,” Rosemary said.

Charlotte glared at her in horror.

“Hee hee hee—joking! I love all my servants.” Rosemary giggled. “Except maybe Princess. Princess has gotten rather lazy, which I guess goes along with her name.”

“Come, Lucie, we forgot to deliver our congratulations to the Count and Countess,” Charlotte said, pulling at Lucie’s arm.

As they pretended to walk in the direction of the receiving line, Charlotte fumed. “Ugh, that woman! I couldn’t take one more second of her. I know there are vast cultural differences between us, but I’m sorry, I find everything about her to be offensive. Her jokes, her snobbery, her inability to accessorize with any semblance of restraint.”

“I get it, Charlotte,” Lucie said quietly, feeling quite exasperated with Rosemary herself.

“With any luck, we’ll never have to cross paths with her again after this weekend,” Charlotte said as they passed the table where little cards embossed with every guest’s name had been carefully laid out in circles in preparation for the wedding banquet. “Ah, the seating chart! Let’s see where they’ve put me. If that woman is seated at my table, I will simply change the cards. Oh thank god, she’s nowhere near me.”

Scanning the cards, Lucie saw that she was assigned to table 3. Almost reflexively, she found herself searching for George’s card and saw that he was at table 8. Damn, was this going to be yet another night where they wouldn’t have the chance to talk at all? Did she dare to quickly swap cards when Charlotte wasn’t looking so that she would be at table 8 too?

Bending down to peer more closely at the cards, Charlotte said, “You know, I do love looking at seating charts. They’re always a fascinating indicator of who’s considered important at any event. See, you’re at table three, which is a prime spot as one of the tables orbiting the bridal couple. I’m at table nineteen, which is most certainly Siberia. Last night I was seated in between the second wife of the De Vecchi’s tax lawyer and Isabel’s dog psychic from Ojai.”

“I would have preferred them any day over Mordecai von Ephrussí,” Lucie replied, annoyed that Charlotte was so attentive to where she was sitting. How could she possibly change her table now? They wandered through the villa’s inner chambers for a while, and when Charlotte became engrossed in a discussion with Auden on the benefits of intermittent fasting, Lucie saw her chance to slip away. She rushed back to the seating chart table, thinking that the best thing to do was swap out George’s seat so that he would be at her table.

Arriving there, she discovered to her dismay other guests swarming around the table in search of their own seating cards. The cocktail hour was about to end, and guests were making their way back toward the fleet of golf carts to head down to Villa Lysis for the banquet. By the time the crowd had dispersed, Lucie saw that she was too late. George’s seating card was missing, so he must have already come by and taken it.