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“A toast to the couple!” Frances said warmly, and everyone raised their glasses.

“You gentlemen are all married now,” Olive observed. “Three holidays have yielded three wives. Perhaps we ought to toast Earls Trip.”

They toasted Earls Trip.

“No, no,” Archie said. “What we ought to toast is Gurglewood. None of this would have happened had I not had the smashing idea to refurbish Gurglewood.”

“You simply cannot let that name stand another moment, Archie,” Effie said. “I beseech you to turn to the vastly superior River’s Embrace.”

“I have it,” Simon said, for he did. He had the perfect name. “Pleiades House.”

“After the constellation?” Archie asked. “The Seven Sisters?”

“Yes. There are seven of us, are there not? Lady Harcourt, of course you are our northern star. And then there’s you and Clementine.” He turned to Effie. “And you and Julianna. And my wife and me. And—”

“Poor Olive,” Olive interrupted, but she was laughing. “Ever alone. The seventh wheel.” She winked. “It’s a lovely name, Simon.”

“It is perfect,” Effie said. “You are always proclaiming us a found family, Simon. We three have always been like brothers.” He gestured around the table. “And now we have sisters.”

“It is rather perfect,” Archie said, affecting a tone of annoyance. “It is so perfect I suppose I shall have to give up Gurglewood.”

And with that, they all lifted their glasses and toasted Pleiades House.