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“Yes, what terribly chic ball gowns!” Olivia echoed, admiring the sisters dressed in complementing shades of lilac silk festooned with intricate beading and ostrich feathers.
“Let me guess…Elie Saab?” Rosemary asked.
“Valentino!” Mercedes and Paloma said in unison, appearing offended that Rosemary would even dare mention any other couturier.
Olivia turned to Lucie covertly. “Are you ever going to tell me what really happened on that yacht?”
Before Lucie could formulate a response, she was quite literally saved by the bell. A line of groomsmen in dove-gray linen suits, led by George, came scattering out of the villa ringing antique Tibetan bells, indicating to the guests that it was time to take their seats. As Lucie observed George guiding several elderly guests, she found herself desperately trying to recall one thing: If he wasn’t the one in the donkey suit last night, was he even at the party? Or did I dream that too?
After everyone was seated around the spiral, a woman in a silvery halter-neck gown appeared at the edge of the balcony overlooking the garden. She held up a violin and began playing the first few notes of a melody as Dolfi appeared at the side of the garden with his parents. Suddenly the sounds of a full orchestra filled the air, accompanying the violinist in Ennio Morricone’s love theme from Cinema Paradiso, as the three of them began a slow, regal march toward the assembled guests, the Contessa already tearing up as she walked alongside her son, who was dashingly outfitted in a bespoke tuxedo from Battistoni. They arrived at the lotus bloom in the middle of the spiral, where Auden Beebe, striking in a midnight-blue silk jacquard sherwani, was waiting to greet them.
There was a moment of silence as the Conte and Contessa took their seats, and then the first chords of a piano could be heard coming from the terrace just below where they were all seated. A few of the guests murmured in excitement, “That’s Lang Lang on the piano!” Next, a man dressed in a linen tunic shirt and matching trousers wandered out of the glade of high trees near the piano, barefoot and holding an accordion, and together he and Lang Lang launched into the most beautiful duet of Luis Bacalov’s theme from Il Postino. Half a dozen bridesmaids standing at the top of the steps began their procession as Isabel emerged through the majestic front door on the arm of her father, and together they descended the steps and glided gracefully down the spiral aisle.
“How ingenious, Dedes! She did this so that she would pass by every single guest, and everyone can admire her dress!” Paloma Ortiz whispered to her sister.
“But what is she wearing? It looks like a potato sack!” Mercedes grumbled.
From where she was sitting, Lucie could not have disagreed more. Isabel looked absolutely exquisite in a white duchesse satin strapless gown with delicate pleats just below the bodice, mirrored by pleats at the back that flared dramatically into a long, billowing train. She recognized it immediately from the black-and-white magazine photo Isabel had pinned to her dressing mirror back in her childhood days at the Park Avenue apartment—it was a picture of Audrey Hepburn in the exact same dress by Givenchy, taken in 1955. She wondered if the dress was vintage or who might have re-created the gown for Isabel.
Lucie felt that Isabel had made a brilliant choice by staying so simple—she wore her hair pulled up into a high chignon, minimal makeup that showed off her natural glow from a week in the sun, and not a drop of jewelry aside from the heirloom Asscher-cut emerald engagement ring that had been Dolfi’s grandmother’s, and she clutched a simple bouquet of white peonies. Amid the grandeur of the villa, the profusion of colorful flowers, and all the guests dressed in their fanciest outfits, the bride stood out in all her unencumbered elegance.
Isabel’s preference for simplicity was also reflected in the ceremony. After Auden delivered a brief homily about twin flames being the halves of one soul, he told a moving story of how he had witnessed the flame that was Dolfi and Isabel’s growing over the last few years, “not at glamorous red-carpet events or A-list parties, but in the quiet, everyday moments of partner yoga, juice fasts, and plant medicine circles.”
The couple then exchanged vows and rings, and a gospel choir emerged onto the steps of the villa and began to sing Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes,” accompanied by a band of drummers. Isabel and Dolfi held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes throughout the entire song as tears streamed silently down their faces, which in turn made most of the crowd well up. Lucie thought it was the most romantic thing she had ever witnessed.
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!”
*1 Actually, Alexis wears a white spangled cocktail dress in the famous “Blake chokes Alexis” season finale, not the gold ruffled gown worn by Rosemary. Both dresses are fabulous, but nowhere near as fabulous as the pink taffeta ball gown Alexis wears to her daughter Amanda’s wedding to the Prince of Moldavia, where (spoiler alert!) rebels storm into the cathedral in a coup attempt, spraying bullets from uzis that manage to kill everyone at the wedding except the cast of Dynasty.
*2 Unfortunately this potential side effect does not appear anywhere on the warning label for Viagra.
XIV
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,*1 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 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.”
