Sudden Pleasures

by Bertrice Small

  “Look at the bathrooms, Ma,” Frankie said, pulling her mother in another direction. “I’ve papered Ryan’s in ducks on a taupe background. Real guy paper. And Ash’s is pale pink lilies with green leaves on cream. Aren’t they pretty?”

  Angelina looked, and then moved on to see the other bedrooms, smiling when Ashley said, “You may pick whichever one you like best for your room when you visit, Lina. I hope you’ll come often. They all have their own bathrooms. Byrnes will always be glad to pick you up and take you home again.”

  They returned downstairs and sat again on the porch as they waited for luncheon to be announced. A gentle breeze eased the heat of midday.

  “Such a beautiful home,” Angelina said. “And all those bedrooms for the children that you and Ryan, God willing, will have. Tell me, cara, why aren’t you being married in church? You are of different faiths, I know, but certainly Ryan has explained that you must be married in the church, and the priest will have explained to you that the children must be baptized Catholic.”

  “Roman Catholic,” Ashley corrected her. “Angelina, this is really something that Ryan should have told you, but like most men he is obviously not about to broach an unpleasant subject with his mother. This is not an arranged marriage we are contracting. It is a marriage of convenience. Both Ryan and I are faced with the possibility of losing our individual inheritances unless we are married by a certain age. That’s the only reason we are getting married. We have both signed prenuptial agreements, and a separate agreement spelling out how we will conduct ourselves during our marriage.

  “We are not getting married in church, or by a priest of either your denomination or mine, because the marriage will last only two years. If either of us should fall in love one day we want to be free to start fresh not just legally, but spiritually. I’m sorry that Ryan did not explain this to you. I don’t know if he was embarrassed or afraid. I hope you will forgive him, and I hope you will forgive me,” Ashley concluded.

  “How will you be married then?” Angelina wanted to know. She had grown pale.

  “Judge Palmer will marry us. It will be a civil ceremony—quite legal in this or any other state,” Ashley explained. “Ryan’s inheritance and mine will then be secured.”

  “That such a thing should be,” Angelina said. “I can’t come.”

  “Ma!” Frankie exclaimed. “Don’t be so damned dramatic. What do you mean, you can’t come? It’s Ryan’s wedding.”

  “It’s a business arrangement,” Angelina said, “and no true marriage. How can I approve such a thing, Francesca? Tell me how I can salve my conscience?”

  “Enough with the religious fervor,” Frankie said. “You know damned well that Dad wouldn’t have had a twentieth of what he left if it hadn’t been for Ryan. He could have gone to Wall Street and made a fortune, but instead he made Dad a multimillionaire. And Dad saw that you were lavishly provided for, and all his daughters given generous cash inheritances, but he couldn’t die without dictating to Ryan from beyond the grave, could he? Ryan had to get married. Had to carry on the grand Mulcahy name or he would lose everything. Well, it stinks, Ma.

  “You’re the one who said to me that we couldn’t let the others take R&R away from Ryan. You’re the one who went to Ray Pietro d’Angelo and told him to find Ryan a wife. Well, he did, and now you aren’t satisfied because it won’t be a real marriage. What do you want, Ma? You want my sisters to sell Ryan’s business—yes, damn it, Ryan’s business—to Jerry Klein? Sure, Jerry wants the R&R name and reputation, but he’ll run it into the ground for a tax loss as quick as he can. That’s what you want because Ryan and Ashley won’t get married in the church and have a real marriage?”

  “I want my son to have what your father and I had,” Angelina said.

  “And what the hell was that?” her daughter demanded.

  “Frankie, please, your mom is upset, and I can understand.” Ashley tried to mediate between the two.

  “Your father and I were married in the church, the way people should be,” Angelina said. “We had a real marriage with children, not a business arrangement. I wanted Ray to find a nice girl from the old country. Italy or Ireland.”

  “Wake up, Ma! There are no nice girls from the old country. It’s one great big rock-and-roll, drugged-out, money-is-God world now. Ray found your son the perfect match. For God’s sake, be satisfied and accept what’s happening. You don’t come to the wedding and my sisters are sure as hell going to attempt legal action to get their hands on Ryan’s business by yelling fraud. You really want that, Ma?”

  But before Angelina could answer her daughter, Ashley spoke up. “Lina, look, I wouldn’t tell Ryan this for fear of scaring him, but I really like your son. I am very attracted to him, and I think that just maybe he might like me too. I’ve never really had a lot of luck picking my own men, but I didn’t find Ryan all by myself, did I? No. Ray and Joe Pietro d’Angelo got us together. And so far, so good. We’re approaching this marriage of convenience cautiously, and the honest truth is that each of us wants an out just in case it doesn’t work for us on a personal level. But I think it might, and Frankie, if you say one word to your brother I will know it, and I swear I will kill you! Yes, we’re putting the cart before the horse by getting married before we know each other. But didn’t you and your husband do that too? Your priest put you together, and you didn’t question it. You got married and made a go of it. Actually, I’m in a much better position than Ryan. I don’t turn thirty-five for almost a year and a half. I have time. But Ryan is forty in seven months. He doesn’t have time to look for the right girl. Even if you sent to Italy or Ireland for a bride you couldn’t get her here in time, with all the immigration fuss and getting her papers. And wouldn’t that give your other daughters more of an opening to go after Ryan legally? They would say he was marrying a girl like that just to protect his inheritance. True, his father’s will didn’t make any conditions for his marrying. It just said he had to be married by forty. They actually don’t have a leg to stand on, Lina, but they would still try. But when he marries me they can’t say anything, no matter what they may think, because they won’t know this is a marriage of convenience.”

  Angelina Mulcahy was silent for a long few moments. And then she said, “You like him, cara?”

  “Yes, I do,” Ashley said, and she felt her cheeks growing warm. “He’s smart, and he’s funny, and he can make me blush.”

  “And he tried to get her into bed, Ma, but she told him not until they are married,” Frankie put in with a mischievous grin.

  Angelina nodded slowly. “He likes her,” she said.

  “More than I think he realizes, Ma,” Frankie responded. “You know, with Ryan the business is everything. And Ashley is probably the only woman in the world who can understand that, understand him. It really is a match made in heaven, even if it isn’t celebrated in the church.”

  “Please come to the wedding, Lina,” Ashley said.

  “I’ll come,” Angelina Mulcahy said, “but only on one condition.”

  Ashley and Frankie looked to her anxiously.

  “That when my stupido son realizes he loves you, you get married again by a priest in the church,” she told her son’s fiancée.

  “Of course we will,” Ashley said quickly. “I don’t really remember my own mother, but I know she would have wanted the same thing of us, Lina. When Ryan decides we should make this a permanent arrangement then we will do this for ourselves, our children, and to make you happy.”

  “Luncheon is served,” Byrnes said, stepping out onto the porch.

  “Show Mrs. Mulcahy where she may freshen up, Byrnes,” Ashley said. “Then join us back here for some food, Lina. It’s a very light meal, but it’s so lovely out here.”

  Byrnes led the older woman off.

  Frankie turned to Ashley. “You handled Ma nicely, Ash.”

  “I meant what I said,” Ashley told her. “If your brother decides he wants to make this marriage of convenience a permanent
thing, then if it will make your mother happy I’ll get the priest. In fact, I’ll get two. I’ll want my guy in on this also. And I want your mother’s friendship, Frankie. I like her, and I like you.”

  By the time Angelina had returned to join them, Byrnes had set up a small table on the porch and covered it with an embroidered linen cloth. There were plates and glasses and silverware. And when he had seated the trio he offered them iced tea or lemonade, both of which had been freshly made.

  “I’d do wine, but Frankie has to drive you back,” Ashley said.

  Each plate that Byrnes placed before the women held a small fresh fruit salad and a chicken salad sandwich on a little freshly baked soft roll. When they had finished the butler quickly cleared the plates, replacing each of them with another plate that held a slice of warm blueberry bread pudding with a mini scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream. Byrnes saw that the glasses were always filled during the course of the meal.

  When they had finished Angelina Mulcahy said quietly as she laid her napkin aside, “You do not have to learn to cook, cara. Your Mrs. B. is a treasure.”

  Both Ashley and Frankie laughed aloud. And after another half hour her guests arose and prepared to leave. Byrnes had already stowed Frankie’s luggage in the trunk of her Miata. Ashley thanked her soon-to-be sister-in-law for the beautiful decorating job she had done in the master suite. She kissed both Frankie and Angelina good-bye, and said she would look forward to seeing them at the wedding. Then she waved them off and reentered the house with a sigh.

  Ashley felt bad that her future mother-in-law had misunderstood the situation. It had been different when Angelina and her sister had come from Italy after World War II. The world hadn’t changed then. It was only just about to change. A marriage arranged by a priest was an acceptable thing, because girls were supposed to marry and have babies while their men went off to make a living to support those families. It had been a slower-paced life then. Not like now.

  Ryan called her a few days later.

  “I talked to Frankie. She told me what you did,” he said.

  “You should have explained it to Lina yourself,” Ashley told him tartly.

  “I know, I know,” he admitted, “but I knew she was thinking it was just like her and Dad, and we both know it isn’t going to be like that. Frankly I hoped to avoid the whole damned subject, and she’d never have to know. In two years, when we separated and she was sad, I’d remind her we weren’t married in the church, which would mean I could start all over with the girl of my dreams, which would make her happy again.”

  “Well,” Ashley said, “for now I’m the girl of your dreams, Ryan. You’d better get used to it, I guess. How’s England? Did you get up to York yet?”

  “I did, and damned if the guy doesn’t have the original molds for the sixteenth-and seventeenth-century clock corners and other hardware. But he’s retiring, so I bought them off of him. Now I’ve got to find someone who can do the casting with them back home. The sales haven’t been that good so far, but I’ve got one outside of Worcester tomorrow that is rumored to have some excellent stuff, and another one in Herefordshire the next day before I head over to Gloucester, down to Devon, and then back to London.”

  “Sounds like you’ll be busy until you fly back,” Ashley said.

  “Would it sound crazy if I said I missed you?” Ryan surprised her by saying suddenly. “And I miss Egret Pointe, much to my surprise.”

  “You sure it’s me, or is it Mrs. B.’s cooking?” Ashley teased him.

  He was silent a moment, as if considering her words, but then he said, “Nah, Ash, it’s definitely you I miss. And, of course, the girls,” he added.

  She laughed. “You are so bad, but if the truth be known, the girls miss you too.”

  “I want to make love to you, Ashley,” he said low.

  “I know,” she admitted.

  “Are we going to make love?” he asked softly.

  “Probably,” she told him. “But not until after the wedding.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not going to disappear off the radar like the others,” he said.

  “Experience has taught me not to count on my bridegrooms,” Ashley told him dryly. “Your sister has done us a gorgeous bedroom, by the way. The bed came from your shop, and it’s incredible. It’s got an eight-foot headboard.”

  “Bloody hell! The one with the linen fold paneling?” He didn’t sound happy.

  “Yes, why?”

  “It was a special order for a client,” he told her. Then he laughed. “But they’re in Europe this summer, and I did say it wouldn’t be ready until autumn. It will have to be late autumn. That headboard takes a long time to carve.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ashley told him. “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s all right. Frankie does this to me once in a while. She comes into the workshops and plunders whatever takes her fancy,” he explained.

  “It’s a hell of a bed,” Ashley murmured. “We could have a lot of fun in it.”

  He laughed again. “I’m getting a hard-on just thinking about it,” Ryan said. “Are you blushing, Ash? I get this distinct feeling you’re blushing.”

  “Smart-ass!” she replied. “How do you do it? No one else can make me blush.”

  “No one?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Maybe this marriage of convenience is going to be something else,” he suggested. “Maybe it’ll end up being more.”

  Ashley was very silent, then she said, “Now, don’t go getting all romantic on me, Ryan. We’re just getting to know each other, after all.”

  “We’re going to know each other better in a few days,” he said.

  “You’ve got sex on the brain,” she told him. “And it’s the middle of the night in England. You need some sleep. Go to bed.”

  “So you do care,” he teased her.

  “Maybe a little,” she allowed. “Good night, Ryan Mulcahy.”

  “Good night, Ashley Kimbrough. See you soon,” he said, and then he rang off.

  Four days, she thought as she set the phone back down. Four days and she would be a married woman. Everything was ready and waiting. The judge. The guests. The dinner menu. The flowers. And a wedding dress. She smiled. It wasn’t really a wedding dress per se. She had been browsing at a small, upscale mall twenty miles from Egret Pointe. There was an elegant, more traditional little dress shop there that she occasionally shopped in, and in the window had been the perfect dress for her wedding. It was cream-colored silk chiffon with a flirty calf-length skirt, cap sleeves, and a draped boat neckline. She went in, tried it on, and bought it.

  “Special party, Ms. Kimbrough?” the saleswoman asked with a smile.

  “No,” she lied. “I haven’t anywhere to wear it yet, but I hope I will. It’s just so pretty I can’t resist it, and it is in my size, after all.”

  “It actually looks better on you than on some of the smaller girls,” the saleswoman said. “Funny how some dresses look better on one person than on another, especially when they all look the same on a hanger. Cash or charge?”

  Ashley took the dress home and showed it to Mrs. B. “What do you think?” she said. “I thought this time something simpler might be better than something more bridal and formal.”

  “It’s perfect, my dearie,” Mrs. B. said with a smile. “And it is a bit bridal, if you don’t mind my saying it. I think it’s the length. You’ll look beautiful in it.”

  And then Ashley realized that she was nervous. Especially when, on the day before the wedding, Nina gave her a bag as they were closing up. “What’s this?” she said.

  “You haven’t picked anything for your wedding night,” Nina said. “So I picked it for you. I know—I know everything you’ve said about marriage of convenience, but I’ve seen you with Ryan. You’re attracted to each other, and if you don’t end up in bed tomorrow night you will one night soon. So wear this.”

  Ashley opened the bag and peered inside. She immediately recognized the nightgown
Nina had chosen. It was simple: a lavender silk number with spaghetti straps, that clung to the wearer like a second skin. It would reveal every asset she possessed, and then some. “You’ve got a wicked mind, Nina,” she said, closing the bag.

  “It’s perfect for you,” Nina replied with a grin. “Now, you are not to come in tomorrow, Ashley. Let me remind you, late August is as dead as a doornail in town. I might get a few browsers and maybe a sale or two, but I will not be busy. I’ll spend my day updating the stock on the computer, close up at three, and be up at the hall all polished and brushed in time for the wedding.”

  “If I don’t come in, what am I supposed to do until four thirty?” Ashley asked her.

  “If I know you—and I think I do—you’ll spend your time checking three times over to make certain everything is okay, and it will be. You’ll pace, and finally nap before taking a shower and getting ready for the wedding. Is Ryan back yet?”

  Ashley looked at her watch. “He should be landing at Kennedy right about now. Let me go and check.” She went over to the PC in her office and went immediately to the British Airways site for arrivals. “Yes, they got in right on time. Five minutes ago.”

  “Go home then. He’ll be calling, and trust me—he’s going to need reassurance right about now. Bridal nerves aren’t just confined to brides,” Nina told her.

  Ashley got into her Solstice and drove home. She had no sooner gotten through the door when her cell began ringing. She flipped it open. “Ashley here,” she said.

  “I’m home,” his voice said. “Rather, I’m in a car service car on my way into town. When should I come out tomorrow?”

  “Do you want to come with your mother and Frankie?” she asked him. “The limo is picking them up at two. Your mother is staying with your sister tonight.”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. Tell the limo to pick me up last, okay? I’ll carry my suit and change when we get there, if that’s okay.”