by Linda Swain
Nick was broad and hard, made tough by a life of which he had rarely spoken, and it had only been through a slip of the tongue on Tim’s part that she knew that, at one time, Nick had fought, literally, for the money needed to improve the club.
Ash was lean and muscled through generations of good breeding and hours of perfecting his body. It was as though he was a piece of art painted by the most talented of artists, and when he leaned over to capture her lips with his, all thoughts of Nick fled from her mind. Groaning as her hands reached out to him, he laughed raggedly, pulling away at the discreet knock on the door. “Entrez,” he commanded, watching as a pretty maid came in, bearing a silver tray laden with delicacies while another carried a second tray burdened with delicate fluted glasses, as well as a bottle of champagne nestled firmly in a silver bucket of ice.
As he moved away, dismissing the servants with the wave of his hand, Kat watched with awe as he easily untwisted the wire and neatly thumbed open the cork. It opened with barely a hiss, not the usual loud pop to which she had been accustomed at the club. Spilling the liquid gold into the crystal flute, he placed one in her trembling hand. “Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour. On your birthday and always.”
Chapter Seven
August 1938
Sipping his morning coffee, Ash watched as Kat moved about the bedroom. Even with the assistance of a wedding planner, he could see by her jangled nerves that a wedding such was expected of a man with his stature was overwhelming her. So, discreetly, as always, he had taken matters into his own hands.
Kat either didn’t notice or allowed Ashton to have complete control without protesting. It was only when it came to the choice of her wedding garments that she had been insistent on her selection being personal . . . and a secret.
“Trust me,” was all that she would say with a smile whenever he tried to pry the knowledge from her. “Call me superstitious, but a man is not supposed to see his bride in her gown until the day of the ceremony. And on that, my love, my answer is final.”
She would smile whenever she spoke the words, but it was a pale ghost of her former radiance. He knew that she slept badly at night. The dark circles under her eyes were testament to that, and most days she was so busy that she often forgot to eat. Her mind was whirling with all the details that needed to be completed, and that was concerning him. Something needed to be done before she collapsed. She desperately needed to relax.
Setting down his cup, Ash moved quickly to her side. For once, he was dressed simply, his open-necked shirt gleaming whitely in the morning light, the soft gray of his casual trousers a far cry from the expensive dinner coats and tuxedos to which Kat had grown accustomed. If she had been paying any mind at that moment to his wardrobe, she might have considered the fact that he seemed, somehow, more warm and open to her in such informal clothing, and she appreciated the sense of closeness it provided her. As it was, she barely glanced up to meet his eyes as he came to her side, but when he tucked his fingers beneath her chin, she turned her face away from the magazine she had been studying.
“You and I need to get away,” he said softly. “At least overnight. Call it a prelude to our honeymoon.” His eyes gleamed warmly as he smiled. “And our destination is as much a secret as your gown, so please don’t ask. Now come . . . dress in something casual, for you and I are going for a drive.”
Knowing it was useless to protest, she dressed quickly while Ash gave final instructions to Giles in case there were any last minute problems. As maids brought down Kat’s luggage, he was pleased to see that she had forgone trousers. Like many, he believed that such clothing were for men only. He smiled to see her choice of a deep blue skirt, which swirled low about her ankles. For the first time in days, a dimpled smile lifted her lips as she wriggled her bare toes at him from under her new straw sandals, pushing the flowing edge of her soft white blouse down a bit to bare more of her creamy shoulders.
He saw the notebook in her hand, and as they drove, Ash noticed how intently she studied her notes, jotting down reminders to herself. For the extent of the journey, down to the harbor, he allowed her to proceed. Pulling the car to a halt, he tapped the page on which she was writing, forcing her to look up. “Well,” he said laughter rising in his voice, “here we are. Now, put away your notes and pay attention to less distressing matters – like me.” Swinging from his side of the car, he opened her door, with the Old World gallantry that so charmed her. “Come, it’s just a bit of a walk down to the ferry. There is a quaint little place that I wish to take you today. I think that you will like it very much. And leave your book here!” he scolded, but there was laughter in his words.
Looking around, Kat froze. Catalina . . . dear God, not here . . . if he knew I had been here with Nick, it would crush him. What should I do?
She steeled herself, turning away for a moment in a desperate pretense of placing her things securely away, bracing herself against what she knew lay down the harbor. Pushing away her memories of her time with Nick in that very same place, she laid her hand on Ash’s arm, aware of the porter that followed with their luggage. Today is a new day, she thought. It was a new time, and even a new place with Ashton beside her instead of Nick. Nick was in the past.
What does it matter if I’m coming to the same spots with Ash that I did with Nick? It doesn’t matter. I’ll never tell Ash, it would be cruel to do so.
Taking her place at the rail, she felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu come over her nonetheless. She took deep breaths of the warm, salty air, watching the gulls dipping in the sky, forcing her memories of Nick from her mind. When she turned, she smiled at Ash, remembering the passion that they shared, remembered his tenderness and the way he always ensured her comfort and satisfaction before finding his own.
“You’re deep in thought, my love,” Ashton teased after a moment of watching her, his hand reaching out to caress her dancing curls. “I thought that the idea was for you to enjoy yourself.”
“I am,” she protested, hiding her face behind a wave of hair blowing in the breeze. “It’s just that I’m . . . afraid.
“Afraid?” For a moment, Ash was stunned into speechlessness. Have I forced her too quickly into my world? He remembered her speaking of her childhood, of going to confession each Saturday afternoon before a cookout that evening; of the traditional chicken dinner that had been her childhood favorite. It was a comfortable world, this childhood she had described, but it was not an extravagant one. Yet, he also remembered that she had taken to his world with her eyes full of wonder and glee. It seemed impossible that someone, who faced a roomful of leering men along with the sights and smells of a nightclub every night, would fear anything.
He brushed her hair away from her face with a light kiss, his eyes tenderly searching hers. “Ma belle, speak to me. Of what could you possibly be afraid? Have I done – or said – something hurtful? What frightens you?”
Her voice was laden with unshed tears even as she attempted to laugh. “I’m afraid of . . . of . . . not being enough. Of not being the kind of wife that you need, that you deserve. Oh, Ash, we come from such different worlds. I’m a chanteuse, a nightclub singer, and you come from a family that can trace back its roots to the Crusades. What if we’re too unalike to work out the differences?”
It was suddenly clear to him as to why she had been so nervous of late - why she hadn’t been eating or sleeping. She is afraid of being overwhelmed. That once she is completely in my world, she thinks she is not good enough to fit in! She thinks so little of herself that she is uncomfortable even in her own world, he realized with a start. It is not a wonder at all that she is sleepless with nerves! “Perhaps, my darling, I am not quite the snob that you believe me to be. Yes, it is true that there will be compromises – especially as long as you are legally bound to that peasant who is your employer,” he added, and wished for his words back as soon as he said them. “But we will adjust,” he continued confidently, “and as we do, we will discover ways to find middle ground. So please,
my love, don’t give up on us. Please, just take the day and let us enjoy one another’s company.” He kissed her gently. “Please?”
She wasn’t certain how she could enjoy herself, surrounded by so many memories of Nick, but she soon discovered that her time with Ash on Catalina was vastly different to the experience she’d had the year before. There were no tandem bicycle rides, no secluded cove, and simple picnic. Ash did concede to a ride on a glass-bottom boat, more amused at Kat’s wide-eyed reaction to the ride than with the experience himself, but then he had never been the type to enjoy daylong visits into the great outdoors.
He had laughingly declined Kat’s suggestion for a ride on the Ferris wheel, content to watch her from her place as the giant wheel went around. He tolerated the walks on the beach and quite happily shopped for the silly trinkets she found so charming. So when they came to a small strip full of games, Kat was surprised at his sudden interest in a game of chance.
“Test your aim,” a barker urged in a loud, booming voice. “Pick your pistol, and if you can hit the red balloons, you win your lady a prize.”
Hit the red balloon? Ash found himself forcing back a laugh as he recalled the skeet shoots he had attended since he was a young boy. Looking at Kat, he grinned. “Would you like to try?”
“I couldn’t hit a bull in the fanny with a bag of rice,” she laughed ruefully. “But I’d love to see you have a try. Come on, Ash, you said we were here to have fun.”
Laughing, he lifted the harmless rifle, testing its weight, gauging the direction in which it would pull. “Very well. Anything to make you smile.” With casual ease, he lifted the weapon to his shoulder, expertly hitting his intended target. As he handed her the prize, an atrociously ugly teddy bear, she was as thrilled as if he had given her a magnificent diamond.
He shook his head, laughing quietly. His beautiful, unpredictable Katherine, who had turned his life around the first time he had seen her on stage. Even now, she was astounding him, introducing him to things that he would never have dreamed of trying, such as those awful dough-wrapped sausages on a stick, or that sticky contradiction she called cotton candy. It was, in his opinion, a perfect example of the compromises of which he had spoken earlier.
Finally, the sun and heat began to snap even his pleasant mood, and as they walked along the beach, Ash spied the hotel in the distance and squeezed her hand with some relief. “Come, I’ve reserved us a room for the night. We can escape this heat and change for the evening’s entertainment.”
Change? How did he know what to bring? He had the maids pack our luggage – just what did he have them pack? It was just one of those things that was so typical of Ash – to think ahead for their comfort – something Nick never would have done.
Their room was spacious and elegant, with fresh flowers in crystal bowls scenting the air, while a breeze played with the window curtains. Inspecting every inch, she discovered the presence of a second door, through which Ash seemed intent on going. Frowning, she looked at him in confusion.
Smiling faintly, he stopped with a tender expression within his eyes. “You spoke earlier of traditions in regard to our wedding, non? Is it not also a tradition that the bride and groom spend their final nights apart? It is still a week until our wedding, and I would not have you disappointed so early in our married life.” A smug look crossed his handsome face, even as he tightened the leash on his growing desire to explore the inviting beds. Non, he thought, we have already broken so many traditions. This is one I intend to keep, even if it kills me. Taking her hand in his, a gentle kiss was placed on her lips. “In another week, separate bedrooms will be a thing of the past. Dinner shall be arriving soon, so I shall adjourn to my room to prepare for tonight’s festivities.”
As the door to his room closed, Kat sank into a nearby chair, burying her face in her hands. I will never take second place in his life as I did in Nick’s, she reassured herself, then stared out the window, biting her lip. Today was so perfect. Please, God, don’t ever let it change. The club was always first in Nick’s life – more important than I could ever be. So please, Lord, let me be the wife that Ash so richly deserves.
Chapter Eight
“Are you going to the wedding, Nick?”
Stopping at the large wooden door, Nick briefly wondered if something had been added to the water, what with all these weddings taking place. While he and Kat had been in Catalina, Tim had snagged his girlfriend, Sandy, marrying her in a quick ceremony at City Hall, and then a couple of his competitors had gotten married over the last few months, and now . . . now it’s Kat’s turn¸ he thought with a terrible heaviness. Today’s her day. I guess I wasn’t drinking from the same water fountains as the rest of the town.
Gazing at her husband’s employer with admiring eyes, Sandy ducked her petite form under Tim’s husky body. “I think you look swell. Maybe Kat will take one look at you and come to her senses.”
For a moment, Nick’s cold eyes bore into hers and she wondered if she might have said the wrong thing until he smiled. “Dream on kiddo, she’s in love, don’t you know that? Now, would you help me with this damn tie so I can get going?”
Shaking her head, Sandy wondered if Nick had any idea how breathtakingly handsome he was. His blonde hair shone brilliantly, and his tanned skin glowed beneath his white shirt while a silver tie accented his deep blue suit-coat. Gold links closed the cuffs of his shirt, while the simple gold ring on his smallest finger gleamed like new. Few knew how much that ring meant to him . . . one of his few mementos from his days with Kat. And one that, Sandy suspected, he would never part with.
It was one of the rare times when Simply Blues was closed for the day, and as Nick looked around at the empty room, it seemed to echo with memories of the past.
Since the disastrous night of her birthday, Kat always arrived on Ashton’s arm, even if it was just to go over the books or to rehearse with Ted, though Nick had noticed that, a month before, she had been pale and nervous despite her French escort. She had vanished for a few days and when she returned, her lips were always curving in a smile while her eyes sparkled.
He tried to tell himself that she had never looked that way when she had been his girl. But deep in his heart, Nick knew better. She had looked at him that way – only he had been too blind to see it. Well, she’s someone else’s now – someone who was smart enough to see what I didn’t.
With a final expert twist, Sandy fixed his errant tie before impulsively standing on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “For luck,” she whispered when he gave her a puzzled look.
“From where I’m standing, Tim’s the one with the luck.” In a rare gesture, he brushed a soft kiss in return on Sandy’s lips before leaving the club, wondering just how he was going to get through the day. As he drove to the formal mansion that Ash called home, Nick thought of the various ways he could escape as soon as the ceremony was finished.
Unfortunately, those plans proved worthless. A throng already milled about the elegant garden, a mixture of the elite of Hollywood, as well as various aristocrats, who, like Ashton, had left their native countries before their finances and belongings could be commandeered by the expanding German regime.
Nick soon realized that a quick escape was going to be difficult, if not impossible.
Despite his quiet and late arrival, he was immediately hailed. “Hey, Nick, glad to see that you made it!”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Glancing down at Rocky, Ashton’s right-hand man, Nick paused to grind out a cigarette beneath his shoe. “I’ve got a lot of money invested in Kat. After she returns from her honeymoon, I’ve got new arrangements for her. I want to make certain that my investment is well taken care of.”
With an uneasy laugh, Rocky looked around. “Don’t let Ash hear you call her Kat. It’ll piss him off to no end, and lately, he’s been short-tempered as it is. Today is certainly not the day for that temper of his to flare.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed as he watched the beads of sweat forming on Roc
ky’s broad forehead. “Say, you don’t think that he’d . . .”
“Hurt her?” Rocky finished. “Hell, the man worships the ground she walks on, and let me tell you, that little spitfire has a temper all her own.”
Nick snorted, forcing amusement into his voice, although laughing was the last thing that he felt like doing. “I’ve been on the receiving end of that, remember? Yeah, she’s a big girl. But like I said, she’s my investment, so I have reason to worry.”
Even as the two men spoke, surrounded by lush greenery and the sparkling shine of the crowd around them, neither could have known about the personal crisis going on within the elegant house.
In his suite, Ashton’s extraordinary green eyes glittered with frustration as he spied the familiar figure speaking to Rocky. His hands trembled as he balled them into fists. Whipping his eyes away from the scene below, Ash cursed before covering his face with his hands.
I’m as nervous as a green boy, he groaned. I’ve had her in my arms, in my bed, and at my side almost constantly, and yet I fear her leaving me; of standing in front of the best of all Europe, only to have her running back to Nicholas’ arms. Mon Dieu, mon douce Dieu. What will I do if she leaves me for him? I cannot face her or any of them like this.
His hands shook as he slowly opened a locked drawer, pulling out a packet of finely ground white powder. He remembered the first time he had felt the wondrous results the powder produced. He had been young then, but its astonishing results had burned themselves into his memory.
I need your confidence today, the calm that only you can give me. Pausing, he stared at the packet, feeling every nerve in his body beginning to jangle until he dipped his elegant finger inside and sharply inhaled. Reaching out, he gripped the back of a chair as euphoria took hold, feeling his fears and doubts retreating to the back corners of his mind. As he gazed at his reflection, his eyes were calm, his hand no longer trembling as he brushed it through his thick hair.