March 7, 2008
Shakespearean wedding drama ends up in court

By ANDREW BERGH
Special to the Journal

Some couples marry on the spur of the moment, which probably explains why drive-through wedding chapels thrive in Las Vegas.

But Maureen Murphy had different plans. The Connecticut woman didn't want just a wedding, she wanted a weekend celebration for around 100 guests. So the bride-to-be planned way ahead, booking what she thought would be an ideal wedding site some 30 months in advance. As the result of miscommunication with the facility, however, Murphy became a party to a lawsuit before she even attended her own wedding party.

Soon after her engagement in early 2003, Murphy watched a TV show devoted to weddings. The program favorably depicted a country estate — the Lord Thompson Manor — as a possible site for nuptials. Situated in Thompson, Conn., the manor features expansive outdoor grounds, ample lodging, and a banquet hall.

Murphy was quickly infatuated with the place, as it could accommodate her weekend shindig consisting of a Friday night rehearsal dinner, a Saturday evening wedding reception, and a Sunday brunch.

Wasting little time, Murphy and her mother visited the manor and met its owner, Andrew Silverston, in late February 2003. Before they left, Silverston gave them his standard “letter of agreement,” which said arrangements were only “tentative” until the contract was signed and returned with the agreed upon deposit. Murphy eventually did exactly that, paying $2,000 to reserve the manor for her wedding in early September 2005.

As later described by a Connecticut appeals court, a “Shakespearean drama of confusion and lost opportunities” ensued in the next two years.

Here's the one-act version.

For unclear reasons, Silverston mistakenly came to believe there was no signed agreement or paid deposit. He wrote Murphy in January 2004, asking her to send the deposit even though her check had long ago been received and deposited. (There is no indication Murphy ever replied to this letter.)

In January 2005, Silverston's wife emailed Murphy to schedule a “food tasting” to pick the dinner menu for the reception. The email never arrived because Murphy had changed addresses. The silence, though, only increased the owner's concern that she had ditched her plans to get hitched.

In early February 2005, Silverston sent an express mail letter to Murphy that simply asked her to contact him, and nowhere suggested any uncertainty about the wedding date. When there was no immediate response, the owner became convinced that Murphy had cancelled her wedding, so he verbally promised the Sept. 10 date to another (and larger) wedding party.

Bad decision.

Why? Because the very next day, Murphy called Silverston in response to his letter. Shocked to hear from her, the owner said he was busy and would call her back. Instead, six days later, Silverston again wrote Murphy, incorrectly telling her their agreement was only “tentative.” He also said that since Murphy had taken more than a week to respond to his earlier letter, he assumed she no longer wanted to reserve the date in September.

This time Murphy was stunned. When she voiced her objections via email, Silverston tried to resolve things by offering an alternate date at a lower price. He also worked behind the scenes with the second bride to see if she would reschedule. When neither woman budged, Silverston again emailed Murphy in early March 2005, asking her to contact him regarding the unresolved wedding date.

But by this time, Murphy no longer trusted the manor, which she thought had repudiated its contractual obligations. Two weeks later, she responded by filing a lawsuit that sought damages for, among other things, breach of contract and negligent infliction of emotional distress.

So did Murphy still get married in September? Yep, but after scrambling and only finding one available venue, she had to hold the wedding in the morning and end the reception by 4 in the afternoon, a far cry from the weekend celebration she had originally planned. Murphy was reportedly “devastated” by this development.

Murphy was later vindicated, at least partly, in September 2006. That's when the trial court, following a bench trial, awarded her $17,000 in damages. This included a refund of the $2,000 deposit, plus $15,000 for Murphy's emotional distress.

Not ceding defeat, the manor timely appealed the $15,000 award of damages.

To prove her claim under Connecticut law, Murphy had to show the manor's conduct created an unreasonable risk of causing emotional distress, and also that her own distress was foreseeable. The award should be reversed, the manor argued, because Murphy had failed to prove both elements.

But just last month, a Connecticut appeals court disagreed.

First of all, the appeals court concurred that Silverston, the manor's agent, had created an unreasonable risk of emotional harm by cancelling the reservation too close to the wedding day, which left Murphy few options and the “significant task” of making all new arrangements.

The court also observed that a wedding is generally considered to be one of the most important days of one's life. The manor well knew this, said the court, given its business of hosting weddings and receptions. The plaintiff's emotional distress was therefore natural and foreseeable, the court ruled, especially since Murphy had been planning her event for two years.

So does Murphy v. Lord Thompson Manor really qualify as Shakespearean drama?

Maybe. But if you're the manor, “All's Well That Ends Well” sure wouldn't come to mind.