“The one that looks like something Wilma Flintstone would wear?” I asked. They both looked at me. “What? It does.”

“They’re Dooney’s parents. Sirus and Davina Portis, very old family line but utterly broke. Destitute, even. Apparently, Sirus has a gambling problem and a stable of mistresses.”

“Ew,” I said. “That does explain a lot about Dooney.”

“And over on the other side of the veranda.” Viv tipped her head in that direction and her orange feather bobbed like a pointer. “See the older gentleman, also in a boring suit, and the woman in the flashy silver pantsuit beside him?”

“Hard to miss,” Andre said.

“Those are Piper’s parents—the Mays, Rita and Matthew,” Viv said. “He’s a banker by trade and she’s an investment broker who was smart enough to build a portfolio with the right tech companies at the right time. They are loaded, more than loaded—if they bought themselves a country of their own, they’d still never be able to spend all of their money.”

“Impressive,” I said. I glanced back at Sirus and Davina. They looked as if they were in agony but trying to soldier on. Their forced smiles were so brittle I was surprised their faces didn’t shatter under the strain. “But not to their daughter’s future in-laws, I’m guessing.”

“The Portis family has no choice,” Viv said. “Dooney either marries into a lot of money or they lose everything, the mansion in London, the country house, the villa in Tuscany, and that’s just the properties.”

“This is so very nineteenth century,” Andre said. “The same as when rich industrialist American families brought their wealthy daughters over to England to bag a bloke with a title.”

“As much as things change, they stay the same,” Viv said.

“Are both Dooney and Piper aware that they’re a money match?” I asked. It seemed so cold and calculated. It made me sad.

“Piper was sent to all the elite schools to meet the proper men so that she could bring the title and connections her parents so desperately crave into the family,” Viv said. “At least, that’s what it sounded like when she told me her story back when we were all running around London in our midtwenties. She was very specifically networking for a title, which was why she didn’t pursue Harrison for very long. He lacked the noble polish she needed to acquire.”

“Well, thank goodness for that,” I said. I couldn’t imagine Harry married to her. He’d be miserable.

We watched as Rita and Matthew worked their way across the room to Sirus and Davina. I watched as Davina saw them coming and closed her eyes as if pained that she was going to have to converse with them.

“This is a conundrum,” Andre said.

“In what way?” Viv asked. She sipped her wine and looked at him.