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.”
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
