“Good morning,” Ashley said, coming forward to greet her guest. They kissed. “How about some coffee or tea?” she asked.
“I don’t suppose you have a cappuccino on you?” Frankie said.
“Byrnes, would you see to it, please?” Ashley said.
“You’re kidding!” Frankie said as she sat down.
“We’re very accommodating here at Kimbrough Hall.” Ashley grinned.
“I’ll say!” Her eye lit on a plate on the table.
“They were baked this morning,” Ashley told her. “In your honor. Ryan told me how much you loved bialys.”
“Can I live here?” Frankie said, smiling. “Please?”
Byrnes returned with a cappuccino and set it before the guest. Then he disappeared.
“Cappucino and a fresh-baked bialy,” Frankie said. “I’m in heaven.” She sipped, and then she took a nibble of her bialy. “Every bit as good as Rome!” she pronounced.
“You can tell Mrs. B. She’ll be delighted,” Ashley said.
“Ryan flew to England last night,” Frankie said as she ate.
“I know. He called me to tell me.” Ashley sipped her black tea. She always had black tea for breakfast the morning after a tension headache.
“Wow! He’s getting thoughtful. Even Ma doesn’t always know when he’s going off,” Frankie said. “I called his cell last night to yak, and he was at Kennedy waiting to board. I had to remind him to give her a jingle. So, tell me. No cold feet yet?”
“I can’t afford cold feet,” Ashley admitted. “Your brother seems like a nice guy, and at least he isn’t after my money. We’ll do fine.”
“Have you signed the prenups yet?”
“Yes, last week,” Ashley said.
“Ryan hasn’t told Ma yet that this is only a business arrangement,” Frankie said. “She thinks it’s like when she and Da got matched up by the priest, and married. She just got the invitation Saturday, and wondered why you’re not getting married in a church.”
“Ryan has to explain that to her,” Ashley said. “Lina is his mother, not mine. It isn’t my place, Frankie.”
“I know. But he isn’t going to explain it to her. He doesn’t want to understand that she thinks this is a till-death-do-you-part marriage,” Frankie said. “An arranged marriage she understands, but not a marriage of convenience with an out clause.”
“What am I supposed to do then?” Ashley asked, slightly irritated. This was just the kind of situation her brother would have fostered. Why were men such jerks about stuff like this? But they were. Honesty really was the best policy.
“Look, I’m staying a few days. Could you invite Ma out to lunch the last day I’m here? And I’ll help you talk to her when she asks, because she will.”
Ashley considered. Lina Mulcahy had welcomed her warmly. If Ryan wasn’t going to explain the situation to his mother, she really owed it to her future mother-in-law to tell her that the marriage between he R&Ryan, while legal, wouldn’t last, because they were marrying just to save their asses. “I could send Byrnes in for her on Saturday, and then she can ride back with you later that day.”
“Would you?” Frankie sounded relieved.
“Of course. I’ll have Mrs. B. do us a nice lunch, give Lina a tour of the house and the gardens. And we’ll talk. I like your mother, Frankie. But I don’t want her laboring under any illusions about this marriage.”
“Do you think you could fall in love with my brother?” Frankie asked.
Ashley felt her cheeks growing warm. What was it about these Mulcahys that they could make her blush?
“Aha!” Frankie exclaimed. “Maybe you could.”
“I don’t know,” Ashley admitted. “I’ve never been very good at picking men, but I do know your brother and I seem to have a sexual attraction toward each other.”
“Ohh,” Frankie said softly. “Have you done the deed then? I’ve heard rumors from some of his old girlfriends that he’s very good in bed.”
“No, we haven’t slept together,” Ashley said. “Not that he hasn’t tried, but I’m not really into sleeping around. Oh, I did with two of my fiancés, and look how that ended up. I’m taking no chances this time. Do you know what they call me around here? The Bad-luck Bride. Well, I can’t get jinxed this time. Besides, in the agreement we signed, sex between us is optional.”
Frankie laughed. “You put that in the prenup?” she said.
“No, we have a small binding legal agreement in addition about what we can and can’t do or have, where we live and entertain, et cetera,” Ashley explained. “We needed to iron out the details of the little stuff, since this marriage is only so we don’t lose our inheritances. It’s all legal, and no one can say we aren’t married. Neither of the wills involved said we had to marry for love or any other reason. They just said we had to be married.”
“But you think Ryan is hot?” Frankie persisted.
“Yeah,” Ashley admitted. “He’s hot, but that isn’t a reason to fall in love with him. However, I like him, and maybe that’s a start. And it was nice of him to call me yesterday and tell me he was going away. He had called the shop, and Nina told him I was home, and why. He asked how I was feeling, and he really sounded as if it mattered. Of course, he was probably worried I might die before the wedding, and then he’d really be in a whole lot of trouble.”
“No, not Ryan. He’s not like that,” Frankie defended her brother. “If he sounded concerned, then he was concerned. He really is one of the good guys, which is why Ma and I are so pissed off at the others. My five older sisters are like a damned pack of vultures, and Ryan doesn’t deserve that. Dad was always tight with money. It was his upbringing. It was Ryan who was always getting Dad to help them out, and he’s the one who made Dad give us each such a generous bequest in his will. So for them to have gone out and found a buyer for R&R stinks. Especially since the guy is Ryan’s least favorite person in the whole world.”
“I don’t understand your sisters,” Ashley admitted. “Ben and I would have done anything for each other.”
Frankie shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t understand it either, except it seems that the more my sisters have, the more they want.” She drank the last bit of cappuccino from her cup. “Well, we had better get going. I’ve got a crew all lined up to do the painting and papering. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Where are you housing them?” Ashley asked, concerned.
“The motel just off the parkway,” Frankie answered. “The new bed will be delivered Friday, and the rest of the stuff will be coming via FedEx this week. By the time Ma arrives on Saturday the rooms will be done. Hey, look, the sun is coming out. It’s going to be a nice day after all. Can we go swimming? Ryan says your pool is wonderful.”
“Of course,” Ashley told her. “But let’s get our work done first.”
“Gee,” Frankie noted with a grin, “you really are a perfect match for my brother. I hope you do fall in love and make this a real marriage.”
Ashley smiled.
Maybe I do too
, she thought silently.
A
ngelina Mulcahy stepped out of the Lincoln Town Car and looked about her. It was a beautiful hot August day, and a silvery haze hung over the bay below, which was dotted with several small sailboats. She turned to face the portico, and smiled as Frankie and Ashley came from the house to greet her. She kissed both women on their cheeks. “It’s lovely,” she said to Ashley. “What a beautiful house,
cara
.”
“Wait till you see the inside, Ma,” Frankie said. “It’s right up Ryan’s alley, and the antiques are real. Been in the family for centuries, Ashley says.”
“Francesca! Do not be so common,” her mother chided her.
Ashley laughed. “Don’t scold her, Lina. Like Ryan, she appreciates what my family has collected over the years. Come in.”
The three women entered the house, and as it was only ten o’clock Ashley led them out on the porch for coffee, small cups of freshly made raspberry yogurt, and miniature Danish pastries that Mrs. B. had baked earlier. Seeing the gracious display Angelina raised an approving eyebrow, and Frankie winked conspiratorially at Ashley. After they had eaten, Ashley suggested a tour of the house.
“You’ll want to see where Ryan will be making his home, of course,” she said as she led her guests from the porch. “Frankie has been all over the place this week, but as you will soon be my family, I wanted you to see the house before our wedding.”
Although she was impressed by everything she saw, Angelina Mulcahy’s handsome face remained a smooth, emotionless mirror barely reflecting her thoughts. The house was exquisite. The living room was large and gracious, with an elegant mantel above the fireplace. The formal dining room was something splendid, with its great Duncan Phyfe dining table and chairs with their beige-and-dark-green-striped satin seats. In the center of the table was a huge porcelain bowl filled with an arrangement of multicolored dahlias. The sideboard was balanced at either end with silver chargers, and a silver punch bowl and ladle was set in the center. There was a fireplace in the dining room as well.
Angelina admired the paneled library with its fireplace. “How many fireplaces do you have in this house?” she asked her hostess.
Ashley thought a moment. “Twelve, I believe. The bedrooms all have one, and the kitchen downstairs has one.”
Living room, dining room, library, kitchen,
Angelina thought silently.
That means there must be eight bedrooms. It’s a house for a family. A nice big family.
She followed her hostess upstairs, where she was shown the new master suite, with its parlor, bedroom, two bathrooms, and two large walk-in closets. She was astounded by the size of it all, thinking of the small bedroom she and Finbar had slept in for much of their marriage.
“Well, whaddaya think, Ma?” Frankie said. “Have I done a good job?”
“It’s amazing,” Angelina replied, unable to keep the approval out of her voice.
They entered from the upstairs corridor into the parlor, which was painted pale green above its chair rail, and a dark cypress green below. The walls held several very good paintings—landscapes, and two obviously original ancestor portraits in muted gold frames. The carpeting was a pale cream color. A maple secretary stood in one corner, the wavy glass in its door attesting to its vast age. There was a couch upholstered in dark green duck cloth with several decorative pillows, and two comfortable club chairs that were upholstered in a large floral rose pattern, muted green on a cream background. There were small antique side tables, and several lovely lamps.
“Wait until you see the bedroom,” Frankie enthused. “I got the bed from Ryan’s place. It’s a repro of a sixteenth-century English piece with an eight-foot linen fold-paneling headboard. Solid oak. Ashley’s granddad lived in this room until he died several years ago. Strangely his bed was the only nonantique in here, and we sent it off to Habitat’s store in the next town.” She led the way into the bedroom. “Well?” she said, grinning.
“The bed is a bit overwhelming at first,” Ashley said, “but the room can take it.”
Angelina looked at the bed with its turned pillars at the foot and its dark green velvet bed hangings. The room was papered in a cream silk paper with delicate green ferns. There was a wonderful sixteenth-century chest-on-chest, and a seventeenth-century bureau with an exquisite mirror over it, among the other furnishings. “Just think,” Angelina said softly, “you will create your children in that bed. Dynasties come from such beds.”
“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.