Lies and Weddings(14)
“Savannah’s a pop star! And a billionaire now, Mum,” Bea cut in.
“Who cares? She was a vegan!”
“She sold her line of vegan lip balms for eight hundred million dollars!” Bea continued.
“Precisely my point—she was a money-grubbing vegan. Now, I’ve spent the past two years vetting hundreds of candidates from all over the world, cross-referencing each of them with Debrett’s, Burke’s, the Almanach de Gotha, and the Social Register, and consulting with my secret panel of experts.[*2] After an exhaustive search, I’ve found the ideal candidate to matchmake with Rufus.”
“With all due respect, Lady Arabella, I’m not sure trying to matchmake Rufus is the best idea,” Eden said.
“Nonsense! Matchmaking is still the custom in half the world—think of the billions of Indians that are matchmade every year. And especially in great families like ours, unions have always been entered into with great intention and great strategy. You know Rufus cannot just marry any girl he wants—he must marry someone that fits all the necessary criteria. And I’ve found the girl that checks every single box. Actually, Bea is to be partly thanked.”
Eden looked curiously to Bea, who breathlessly announced, “?‘OS’ stands for ‘Operation Solène,’ as in Solène de Courcy. Remember her—my flatmate in Paris? We did that shoot together for L’Officiel?”
“Oh yes, I remember now. She’s gorgeous! Isn’t she an artist as well?” Eden remembered Bea stressing out over what to wear to Solène’s opening at Timothy Taylor.
Arabella nodded. “She is one of the hottest emerging artists around. She already has important galleries in London, Paris, and LA, and everyone’s flipping her work, so she can satisfy all of Rufus’s artistic pretensions.”
“I’m not sure it works quite like that…,” Eden demurred.
“Hiyah, you’re missing the point! She is the daughter of Gaspard and Olimpia de Courcy. She was born in the right hospital, grew up in the right arrondissement, went to the right schools, speaks the right languages, and understands innately what it means to be to the manor born.”
“Not only is she to the manor born, she is to the hotel born too!” Bea jumped in. “The de Courcys own a fabulous crop of hotels all over France and the French Caribbean. That’s why it’s a match made in heaven—she already knows what it feels like to be constantly harassed by friends angling for room upgrades!”
Arabella nodded. “Yes, I can already picture her as the future chatelaine of our lifestyle empire. She has the right look and her style is impeccable. When you meet her, you’ll see right away that she’s a dead ringer for a young Betty Catroux.”[*3]
Eden hadn’t a clue who that was, but she nodded politely anyway.
“Now, Bea managed to get me a snippet of her hair, so I was able to run some tests.” Arabella registered Eden’s look. “Why so shocked? We needed to make sure she doesn’t have any of those terrible genes that so many of those European royals have, you know, like the ones who can’t stop bleeding from a papercut or who commit double suicide in hunting lodges with their lovers. Anyway, she has decent genes—not as fine as Gresham genes, mind you, but good enough to ensure that my grandchildren won’t have any major deformities. More importantly, her lineage is magnificent—she is a princesse du sang royal, a direct descendant of Marie Antoinette[*4] on her father’s side and Lucrezia Borgia on her mother’s side.”
“Er…didn’t Lucrezia Borgia poison a few of her husbands?” Eden asked.
“Don’t believe those nasty rumors![*5] She was a very fine Renaissance noblewoman and we will be very lucky to welcome her descendant into our family. So, I’m arranging for you and Bea to go on special excursions around the island with Rufus and Solène over the next few days.”
“You’ll be my co-conspirator!” Bea giggled.
Arabella cut in impatiently. “Now, Eden, here is the brilliant part of the plan: Rufus is going to think he’s being set up with someone else.”
“Oh really? Who?”
“The princess of Thailand. She’s beautiful and royal and totally off-limits. But I will make a big show of introducing them and Rufus will think she’s the one and of course he will go out of his way to resist her. But meanwhile, Solène will conveniently be right there, and your job is to covertly talk her up to Rufus. The minute you meet Solène you will see how much sense she makes as my future daughter-in-law. You want what’s best for my family, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Eden replied, wondering if Arabella cared about what might actually be best for her son. She had met almost all of Rufus’s girlfriends over the years, and the problem wasn’t really the women. It was just that Rufus was never in love with any of them. As eligible as Rufus might have been made to look by the glossy magazines, in reality he was the opposite of a Casanova. He was slightly awkward around women he didn’t know well, and he truly had no game. He was never the pursuer, always the pursued. After he had exploded onto the social radar, legions of girls had become fixated on becoming the next Countess Greshamsbury, and being the amenable sort, Rufus ended up being dragged into relationships that were far more intense than he ever intended.
Would the same thing happen with Solène de Courcy? Eden was willing to suspend judgment and give this candidate a chance. After all, Rufus’s future happiness was at stake here, and she wanted nothing more than for him to find his true soul mate. If his mother was convinced this girl was the one, she was grateful to be playing a part in vetting Solène herself. After all, they’d all be seeing a lot of each other. And Rufus was going to trust her opinion more than that of his own mother or sister. But she did pose a last question to Lady Arabella: “How can you be so absolutely certain Rufus will fall for Solène?”