“Flirting with me will not distract me from the situation at hand, love, which is that you have too much luggage,” he said. Then he leaned down and kissed me quick as if to let me know that he wasn’t annoyed, or at least not super annoyed. “You’re going to have to make some choices.”

“But I’ve never been to the countryside,” I protested. “How will I know what to wear if I don’t pack a lot of options?”

“Wellies,” a voice said from behind me. “You need wellies and a wool jumper to keep the mud and the chill away.”

“Nick!” I whirled around, stepped forward and hugged him tight.

Nick Carroll was a dentist by trade but in our little squad of friends, he was mostly known for being a snappy dresser. Today he was in a lavender-and-purple-striped dress shirt with the cuffs rolled back to reveal a paisley print. His trousers were beige linen and his loafers a soft buttery leather in a dark shade of brown. He wore a panama hat on his thinning strawberry blond hair and looked every inch the vintner he was learning to be.

“Are you here to see us off?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “Although Andre made me check him for a fever three times this morning. I think he was hoping he contracted the flu so he could get out of going. He really hates the country.”

“You don’t say,” I said, my tone as dry as melba toast. Andre had been complaining for the past eight weeks about Piper May’s wedding at Waverly Castle.

Nick laughed. He shook hands with Harry and said, “Need a hand, mate?”

“More like a bigger boot,” Harry said. He pulled everything out of the trunk of the car for the third time and began to rearrange it all again.

“Oh, you’ll manage,” I said. “You always do.” I batted my lashes again, and he sighed and turned back to the car. The man was a master at Tetris; surely he could figure this out.

“And where are you off to while we waste away in the countryside?” I asked Nick. “Back to France to tend your vines?”

“Sadly, no,” he said. “I have to perform an emergency root canal on Mrs. Delancy. She’s called the office six times. I can’t in good conscience leave her in pain. Plus, Andre would be put out with me if I took off to France without him.”

“Your vineyard is in the countryside in Provence,” I said. “Why doesn’t Andre mind going there but he balks at Sussex?”

“Because it’s France, pet,” Nick said. “Besides, I keep him drunk most of the time so he’s too soused to notice any terrifying wildlife.”

“Tricky, very tricky,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind in case we see a rat in the castle.”