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.