by Faye Sonja
Raymond frowned. “I have proposed to her. She’s said no.”
“Why?”
Ray laced his fingers together in front of him. “We’ve had our disagreements in the past.”
Orlando narrowed his eyes. “So, what is it that you want from me?”
Raymond closed his eyes. “I want to lure her to New York under a false name and then force her to marry me.”
Orlando shook his head. “Not only is it against policy, but it’s bad business, man. Everyone who uses my service knows that all parties are verified. We have guarantees and check everything twice.”
“I get it, Santa Claus, you make your list, you check it twice. No one gets past you.”
Orlando laughed. “That’s a new one.” He stroked his chin. “I might be able to use that come holiday advertising. Hmm. Heart Arrangements… Who made it onto Santa’s list?” He waved a hand, dismissing his thoughts. “I’ll work it out later.” He smiled. “ Anyway, you were saying?”
Ray leaned forward in the chair. “I have to marry her.”
“Because of the promise you made to your brother?”
“Yes.”
Orlando nodded. “Alright.”
Ray’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
Orlando smiled. “Of course.” He leaned back, bringing one knee over the other and lacing his own fingers. He then proceeded to simply stare at Ray.
Ray smiled and stared back, and then his face began to fall. A nervous tickling danced in his shoulder as he looked across his desk. Orlando was a smart man and Ray got the feeling that Cupid hadn’t made it this far in life doing anyone any favors on the house. “What do you want?”
Orlando’s smile brightened. “Oh, so you do know how this game is played.”
“Name your price.”
He quoted a figure… a large one, and then said, “Now, that’s just for the mail-order-bride service, but for the extended favor I’m doing you, I’m going to need a favor as well.”
“What is it?”
“My wife wants to do a little... experiment.”
Raymond lifted a brow. He’d heard about Orlando’s history. The man didn’t walk into a room without arranging at least one marriage. It was like love was a disease that infected the people around him and rumor had it that he’d married a woman who was much the same. His wife, June Bakely, was a very active part of the company. June, along with her sister-in-law, Melody, had been featured in magazines and had also written a book on love advice for women. The Bakely women were known to be just as awful as their husbands; leaving weddings in their wake. Raymond asked, “What kind of experiment are we talking?”
“A party.”
“A party?”
“A pen pal party.”
Ray frowned. “What’s that?”
Orlando shrugged. “Honestly, no idea, but June believes in it and wants to try it out here next month.”
“Here where?”
“Here in Midcap, featuring the women who work in your factories and the sailors that are due to sail in around that time. More than sixty percent of your company is women. A third of those women are unmarried. The sailors who come in might be looking for a wife or at least someone to write to during those long trips out at sea. June thinks some kind of soiree will be good.”
Ray narrowed his eyes. He didn’t have to ask how Orlando knew the demographics of his company, but— “How do you know a boat is due next month?”
“You have your informants and I have mine.”
Ray crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the floor. “What would you need from me?”
“Oh, nothing much, just your women and one of the properties on your estate.” Orlando smiled.
Ray shook his head and then shrugged. “Deal.”
The men stood and shook hands. They chatted for a few more minutes about the details of both of their endeavors and then Ray saw Orlando to the door.
“Thank you.”
Orlando shook his head. “No, thank you. And thank you for your service.” And then he left.
Ray returned to his seat and looked back out the window and felt the pressure of the world on his shoulders. Skilton and Knibbs were currently working on a new grenade launcher that they hoped would be done in the next year, and all the while Ray was planning an impromptu wedding.
It was getting late and no doubt he was the last one at work, besides his assistant. He picked up the phone and rang her desk.
“Mr. Skilton’s office.”
“Ellen, it’s me. Call my car and go home.”
“I called as soon as Mr. Bakely left, and I’ll go home when you do, Ray.”
“If you keep staying late, I’ll have to pay you more.”
“No complaints from me on that.”
Ray laughed.
Ellen didn’t.
Ray shook his head and placed the phone back on the receiver. There was no point in trying to persuade Ellen Harris otherwise. She was going to do whatever she wanted in the end.
He put a few papers into his briefcase and then headed out. Ellen was standing by the door. Her bright red hair was styled in curls that stopped at her shoulders. A simple navy blue beret sat on the side of her head and matched her dress. She was a curvy woman who hid a pair of dark blue eyes behind red spectacles.
“New hat?” Ray asked as he strolled towards the door.
Ellen nodded. “Yes, but can you believe the tax on it was well over thirty percent?”
Ray smiled and stood near her. “We’re at war. Materials are scarce.”
They both headed down the stairs. Ray, having gotten use up to moving up and down the long staircase, moved at the normal pace, keeping up with Ellen. When they finally reached the bottom, Ray rubbed his right leg.
“How’d your meeting with Cupid go?”
“Fine.”
“Will I be hearing bells soon?”
“Hopefully,” Ray sighed, straightened, and then walked with Ellen out the front door. The August weather had dropped since morning, which meant nothing but bad things for the pain in his leg. “But, I’d like your help in getting her settled in,” he said. “Just for the first few months.”
“Wouldn’t some lady in a family in your pay bracket be better suited for the job?” Ellen grunted. “Plus, I think I have enough on my plate with you.”
“No, I don’t want Lydia to change into one of those women.” Ray sighed. “Plus, you know how I work and how my life works better than anyone else.”
“I don’t know—”
“I’ll double your pay.”
“Can’t wait to meet the lovely girl,” she said with a straight face.
Ray chuckled.
He walked Ellen to her car, made sure she drove off safely, and then watched as his car pulled up. He slipped into the warm back seat and closed his eyes. “Please work,” he whispered to himself as the car pulled off.
“What was that?” Thomas, his driver asked.
“Nothing, I’m just talking to myself.”
“Well, let me know if you need to hear another voice, unless you’re hearing those, too.”
Ray chuckled. “I’ll let you know.” He shook his head, knowing that Orlando was the only man who could truly help him now.
If all went well, Ray would be married within the next few weeks and would have fulfilled the promises he’d made to both his father and his brother. He was running the company, like his father always wanted, and he’d be married to Lydia Skilton, just like his dying brother had made him promise to do.
* * *
2
Chapter TWO
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“You can’t force me to marry you.”
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Lydia saw the sign and leaned forward to tap the shoulder of the driver. “Why are we in Midcap?”
The driver, who’d introduced himself as Thomas, met her eyes in the rearview mirror. Upon mee
ting her at the train station, he’d reflexed her with his easy smile. Now, all Lydia could see was fear in his face. “We’re almost there, ma’am.”
Lydia shook her head. Over the hour drive, the two had chatted about so much that Lydia had thought him her friend. Thomas had been born in California, but his parents had moved to New York when they had decided to try a hand at opening a swing club. Thomas had put her at ease, but now, she knew the truth. He worked for the enemy. “Thomas, stop calling me, ma’am. I’m Lydia and I want to know where are you taking me?”
Thomas gave her a shaky smile. His white teeth stuck out against the darker tone of his face. “Cool down, Ms. Lydia, we’re almost there.”
Lydia’s eyes went wide. “This can’t be happening.”
“Mommy?”
Lydia looked over to see her two-year-old daughter eat another CheeriOats from her lap. Since the snack came out last year, Pauline couldn’t stop eating them. The whole wheat circles were her favorite.
Pauline swiped a small hand across her face, moving away the black wisp of hair that seemed to always fall out of her high pigtail. Crumbles were left in her bangs. Her white shoes dangled just over the even whiter leather seat. Her blue cotton dress brought out her eyes. “Mommy, what’s happening?”
Lydia smiled. She leaned down and whispered to Pauline, “Nothing, honey.” It was a lie. Lydia could feel her entire body shaking. Her heart pounded. She’d been tricked.
Pauline tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Sure?” She always looked so grown up when she did that.
Lydia shook her head. “Yes, honey. Mommy is sure.”
“Can I have more Cheerios?”
“CheeriOats.”
“I said that, Mommy.”
“You did.” Lydia shook her head, deciding that Pauline’s pronunciation of the cereal’s name was pretty good, if not a better title. “But, no more CheeriOats, we’re almost there.” And when we get there, we’ll be turning right back around. Lydia sighed and leaned back into the chair and crossed her arms. She should have known better. For the last month, she’d been writing to a man named Jon Smith who’d called himself a blacksmith. He’d told her that he lived close to New York City and had made it clear that he made enough money to support a child. Pauline was the only reason Lydia was even agreeing to becoming a mail-order-bride in the first place, and since losing her journalist job, Lydia had done whatever she could to make ends meet.
Lydia looked out the window and watched the splashes of red, orange, and yellow from the maple trees pass before her eyes. Grasslands went on for a mile and in the distance she saw the beige shady shores of the Atlantic Ocean. When she thought of New York, she never thought of a place like this. She always imagined the Big Apple. Skyscrapers, city lights, and bad traffic was what she’d expected, but never anything like this. The paved road they travelled on now could only hold two cars going in opposite directions. She’d never wanted to come to New York, but since Lydia was a single mother, it had left her pool of suitors very slim. John Smith had been only one of three men who’d written back to her, and had seemed like the best suitor. Lydia would miss the west coast, but if this shoreline oasis was New York, then perhaps she would be alright.
“No,” she whispered to herself. She couldn’t give up the fight so easily. She couldn’t let Ray get his way.
“No?” Thomas asked.
“Nothing.” Lydia looked out of the driver side window. Up ahead, Lydia made out something that looked like a town before the driver made a turn onto another road lined with even thicker trees. The trees were tall and leaned together, creating a tunnel with their leaves and branches. After a mile, a black gate came into view with a cursive S carved into its iron. The gates swung open and the car drove on. They passed small homes, outbuildings, and a long barn on their way. Pauline leaned over to look out the window and pointed out every animal she recognized from her books. There were horses, cows, and she’d even spotted a dog. The dog had gotten Pauline excited the most. She really liked animals. Every structure they passed was done in a white natural stone that matched the larger one that came up ahead.
Lydia’s eyes went wide at seeing the grand mansion. A circular driveway brought them around to the front of the breathtaking manor, but Lydia’s wonderment was cut short when the front door opened and the last man she wanted to see stepped out. Ray.
She noticed the cane immediately and his crippled maneuver stopped her heart. She hadn’t seen him since the Pearl Harbor attack, but knew he’d been hurt. Any news about the Skilton family had made the papers everywhere. Lydia was grateful she’d been wise enough to go into hiding once Louis died, if only to keep the press away from Pauline.
The driver opened Lydia’s door.
“Mommy,” Pauline grabbed her arm. “Is this our new house?” Pauline’s eyes were wide.
Lydia smiled down at her, trying to get her breathing in order. During the journey east, Lydia had tried to make Pauline excited about their ‘new house’, and she now regretted it. This would not be their home and wherever they went would never look this grand. “No, honey, it’s not, but come with mommy, alright?”
Pauline nodded and took her mother’s hand. They both slid out of the car and stood at the bottom of the mansion’s long stone staircase. When Lydia looked back up, she noticed that more people were now standing on the stair’s middle landing. They were all dressed in light gray and white. Staff members, no doubt, but Ray, in a black suit, looked large and in charge as he stood in the middle of them.
The wind picked up, and Lydia brought her red cotton scarf over her hair to keep it from blowing in her face. Self-consciously, she ran a hand over her dress skirt. She’d worn the best dress she’d had. It was white with a red floral print design and butterfly wings. It was an old dress, but Lydia had kept it well maintained.
She looked back up at Ray’s suit and noticed it was an older style as well; big in the shoulders, small in the waist, with tapered pants. It was a style of the 1930’s, and the only men who dared wear it were making a statement. With clothing rations so low because of the war, wearing older styles said, ‘we support our country’.
Ray walked down the stairs with the faintest of limps, but Lydia could see the strain he kept out of his face. His lips were pressed together, his forehead bunched, but his eyes—the same pale color of Pauline’s—stayed trained on her. As he got closer, Lydia braced her short heels firmly into the pavement, preparing herself for the battle ahead.
“Lydia.” The roughness in Ray’s deep voice almost knocked Lydia off balance.
She blinked a few times and then narrowed her eyes. “John Smith.”
Ray sighed. He looked down at Pauline and then back at Lydia. “We need to step inside.”
“No.” Lydia placed a hand on her hip. The other hand tightened its hold on Pauline’s hand. “There is nothing to discuss. We’ll just be on her way.”
“To where?”
Lydia drew her brows together.
Ray continued, “You’ve nowhere to go and you have no money.”
“I think that I’m aware my own circumstances.”
Ray turned to Pauline. “Are you hungry?”
Pauline ducked her head into her mother’s skirt.
Ray looked at Lydia. “Come inside.”
“No.”
“Have it your way.” Ray turned to the driver. “Thomas, take the car inside.”
Thomas shuffled around the car and began to drive away, leaving their two suitcases behind.
Lydia’s mouth hung open, she turned back to Ray. “How are we supposed to leave?”
Ray shrugged a shoulder. “Walk, I suppose.”
Lydia let out a breath. “I see nothing has changed about you. It’s either your way or no way.”
“Only because my way makes sense.”
Lydia shook her head. “You can’t force me to marry you.”
Ray nodded. “You’re right.” He stuck his free hand into his pant’s pocket. “I can�
�t force you to marry me, but I can leave you here without another option.”
Lydia’s heart jumped. She gathered Pauline in front of her legs and covered the little girl’s ears. “You’d allow your own niece to starve to death?” It was a cheap shot, but she was hoping it would work.
Ray’s eyes stayed with Lydia. “No, I believe it is you who would be starving her.”
Lydia turned away. “You lied to get me here.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You should pay to get me back home.”
“This is your home. You’re a Skilton. Your daughter is a Skilton, and she is entitled to everything that the name offers.”
Lydia stared into his eyes. He had the good looks of the Skiltons. A heavy square jaw, high forehead, a roman down-arched nose, with a slight mouth. But where Louis’ looks had been more boyish, Ray’s was all man.
She remembered the first time they’d met. Had it not been for his all-white captain’s apparel, Lydia could have sworn she was looking at the inspiration for Clark Kent, Superman’s civilian identity. The comic had come out just the year before and everyone was in love with the man who wore the American red, white, and blue. But, Ray, with his height and build, looked like the real thing, if not more mature. Lydia would have wondered if there would be an ‘S’ on one of the shirts underneath his white dress jacket had it not been for his eyes. Instead of Superman’s dark eye color, the Skiltons’ eyes were a starry blue. “Louberg.”
“What?” Ray asked.
“Our last name is Louberg.” She’d gone back to using it after Louis’ death. Some of her friends thought it cold, but after finding out about Louis’ infidelity, she’d wanted to rid herself of his memory. She’d wanted to rid herself of the Skilton family in general. “I went back to my maiden name after he died.”
Ray narrowed his eyes, but it was his only reaction to the news. “Come inside, Lydia. It will be dark soon.”
Turning towards the sky, Lydia caught the last rays of the sun as they tucked behind the sprawling mansion in front of her. She turned to Ray and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to marry Ray. She didn’t want anything to do with this life, but now, she had no choice.