LOVERS AND LIARS

Three sisters, their clueless partners, their awful mother, and many festering secrets gather at a castle in Britain for a wedding.

Actually, the wedding seems to be canceled in the book’s prologue, as Sylvie Peacock dashes off a note to her intended, a well-built English book lover named Simon Rampling, informing him that she’s leaving, heading back to her adored job as a school librarian in Miami. Among the reasons: Ten years ago, her marriage to the school’s choir director ended in his untimely death, and she’s still not over it. But there’s something Sylvie doesn’t know about her husband’s demise that both of her older sisters, Cleo and Emma, have been keeping from her, something that won’t make a ton of sense when it finally comes out, but rigorous sense-making is not the strong point, or probably even the intention, of this novel. For example, middle sister Emma has supposedly been doing well working for a Mary Kay–type marketing company but has actually spent every penny in the family coffers including her husband’s retirement account—more than $24,000—on Sweet Nothings’ lingerie, lotions, lube, and sex toys. (Okay, he didn’t notice the bank statement, but what about all those vibrators?) While Emma is in England with husband Rich and sons Guinness and Jameson in tow, her debt, recorded at chapter openings, almost doubles, another thing not to think about too hard. Fortunately, Ward provides plenty of distractions: agendas, menus, British history lessons, disgusting-sounding medieval foods—“Cup of posset, my friend? It’s not so rancid once your taste buds adjust”—literary references, perfume formulas, and juicy sex scenes. Male characters don’t get into this book unless they know what a tongue is for (even Simon’s elderly father has a much younger girlfriend, though those specifics are left to our imaginations). The development of the relationships among Cleo, Emma, and Sylvie, who have not emerged from their childhoods unscathed but are each struggling toward authenticity and happiness, provides an emotional anchor for all the hoopla.

A rollicking if slapdash romp, with a poignant story about sisterhood at its core.