Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection

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Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection Page 18

by Sophie Barnes


  PHIN HADN’T COUNTED on anyone but his immediate circle of friends, which included only Rick and Ed, knowing his true identity. He couldn’t begin to fathom how she’d discovered the truth.

  Still, he attempted a bluff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She threw his own words back in his face. “Let’s not play the game where we both pretend I don’t know what you’re up to.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Yes, I know all about you, Mr. Whitemore. I know you belong to the ever-mighty Whitemores of Boston, who own our town newspaper as well as several other properties across the country. I know you’re here at the behest of your father and grandfather, whose desire it is that you find a wife among the ‘average’ people. Why, I do not know, nor do I care. And lastly, I know that you don’t want anyone to know who you really are because it will make your task much harder to complete.”

  He wasn’t going to be able to have this discussion with her in the open, where everyone could see. Already, Millie was walking over to them, and he could see she had flirtation on her mind. He had to act quickly.

  Millie approached them, with a side glance at Ginny. Phin risked a look at her and saw that she had that look in her eyes that said she was about to do something stupid. She probably viewed this as another opportunity to throw Millie and Phin together.

  “Mr. Baldwin, I didn’t know you had a taste for fried chicken. I’m sorry you didn’t get the prize, but I’d be happy to whip you up a meal anytime you want. You just have to ask.”

  “You know, Millie, Mr. Baldwin was just saying how upset he was that he wouldn’t be able to try it for himself. Perhaps you–”

  He cut her off. “Thank you for your generosity, Miss Jameson. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. If you’ll excuse Miss Overton and me, I have to take her over to her father and discuss something with him. Good evening, Miss Jameson.”

  He herded Ginny over to her father and quickly obtained permission to walk her home. Thankfully, her father didn’t offer an objection, and soon, he was helping her don her coat and scarf before leading her out.

  He considered offering her his arm as they walked down the silent thoroughfare, then thought better of it.

  “You realize you’ve given the people something to gossip about.”

  He was aware of the looks he’d been given. First, he’d bid for her prize in the auction, then he was accompanying her home, unescorted by her father. Luckily, only she and he knew the true reason for this nighttime stroll.

  “How did you learn of my intentions, of my name?”

  Ginny stopped at the door of the Overton store. He looked up. “You live here?”

  She turned the key, letting herself in. She looked out at him. “We live on the upstairs level. We used to live out by the hill, but Father decided to sell the house several years ago.”

  “We’re not done speaking.”

  He could see her weighing her next words. “You can come in for a little bit. I can put on some coffee to warm us up.”

  He entered the darkness of the store and soaked in the smells of the spices, the leather goods, and the oranges brought in special for the season.

  She turned her back to him as she prepared the coffee. “I found out unintentionally. You see, your brother wrote my father a detailed letter setting up an account for you with the store and asking my father to help you with anything that you needed. By the look on your face, I can see you are surprised. Your brother, Theodore . . .”

  “T. D.” He should have known it was T. D.

  “He visited our establishment on his first visit to Preston five years ago, when he became responsible for the Preston Gazette. He and my father formed a quick friendship, and every once in a while, my father receives correspondence from him.”

  T. D. would be idiotic enough to share the secret with someone in town, thinking he knew best. Worse, Phin couldn’t hate him for it because he knew that his older brother meant well. He just wished he hadn’t involved anybody else in the scheme. Naturally, the one person in T. D.’s confidence would also be the person with the daughter that wanted to make Phin’s life difficult. Phin listened as Ginny shared the story of how she’d mistaken T. D.’s letter for a letter from a creditor, and read it. She was ashamed, he could see, when she admitted to continuing her reading after discovering what the letter actually was. She’d known about him before he’d ever set foot in town.

  “Please don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know that I’m aware of your identity. He’d be mortified.”

  Phin considered that and nodded. He didn’t want his relationship with the older Overton to change, either. It was in both their best interest if John continued to think he’d kept T. D.’s secret.

  “You’re probably curious about why my father sent me here to find someone to marry.”

  “I admit, it does seem more than a little odd. I would imagine your family would want you wed to one of your acquaintances.”

  Phin’s mother certainly had. She’d been infuriated with her husband’s plan, but she had failed in getting him to retract. “My brother is recently married.”

  “Yes, we know. He announced it in the paper.”

  “My sister is also married.” He could see she didn’t understand him, and it pained him to have to continue because doing so would mar the image of his family in her eyes. Not in a scandalous way, but it would demonstrate that the “average” person was not wrong in thinking the wealthy had skewed priorities in life. “My siblings have married people who come from our station in life. Wealthy, educated, cultured.”

  “How nice for them.” He heard the edge in her voice, and it made him want to laugh.

  “Yes, you would think so. However, these people can feel very entitled. My sister’s husband lives each day on money his family made. He has not contributed to their wealth and doesn’t appear to want to change that. My brother’s new wife is the same way. My father and grandfather are of the opinion that if my brother were not from a family such as ours . . .”

  “Rich.”

  “She would not have married T. D. As men who worked very hard for the things they have, they are more than a little disappointed.” He took a breath. “As the last of my father’s children to be unmarried, it came to me to rectify the matter.”

  “You came here to choose someone to marry solely because your father asked you to?”

  She was incredulous.

  “That, and they have agreed to give me control over the family’s company. As the youngest, that is something I would not have had without this opportunity.”

  GINNY WAS UNCOMFORTABLE about what she’d just heard. He always seemed so composed, a natural-born charmer, and yet, right now, he was showing himself in a poor light. He was calculating, indeed, if he had agreed to go along with this senseless plan as a means of obtaining power in his family’s business. She felt a little sick to her stomach, which was odd because it shouldn’t matter to her one way or the other if he was not quite the paragon she’d thought when she’d first seen him.

  She noticed him searching her, but he continued when he saw she wouldn’t comment. “They want me to marry a sensible woman from an ‘average’ family—their words, not mine—because they believe doing so would prevent me from going down the incorrect path of my siblings. They want someone who will be a true companion to me, and one who will not bleed the coffers dry with frivolous spending. They chose Preston because my brother really liked it, and it reminds Grandfather of the town where he was born.”

  She still didn’t speak, and Phin felt his face a touch warm despite the cold.

  “It’s a compliment,” he explained.

  She cleared her throat. “I suppose they think it is. Maybe it is. I don’t know.”

  “Are you offended?” he asked, disconcerted by the severity of her expression.

  Her gaze rose to meet his. “I have no reason to be. But now that you know that I am aware of your real reason for being here, you must admit
I can be helpful. Millie would be a perfect match for you. She is ready for marriage, and you need a wife. It’s kismet.”

  Phin didn’t want to explain to her that he had imposed his own conditions on his family’s scheme when he accepted it. It was agreed there would be no time limit as to when he must marry. Also, his would be a love match, as his brother and sister had made. He wouldn’t jump into marriage simply to fulfill terms set out by his father and grandfather. But these were private, personal feelings, and they had no place in this store with Ginny Overton. So, instead, he shook his head. “I can’t marry Millie.”

  He saw her bristle. “Why not? Is she too average?”

  “I told you, that was their word. No, Millie is a lovely girl. But, at best, I feel brotherly affection toward her.”

  “That could change.”

  “It won’t,” he said firmly. “A man knows his feelings.”

  She rolled her eyes. “A likely thing for you to say. It seems to me like you’re sabotaging yourself. If you want control of the company, I wouldn’t think you’d be so picky.”

  Except it wasn’t only about the company, Phin wanted to say. Whomever he chose, he’d be with for the rest of their lives. One didn’t go into marriage lightly.

  “There’s a stronger reason for me to stay away from Millie.”

  She waited, her arms crossed at her chest.

  “Ed’s in love with her.”

  Her mouth dropped open slowly. “Ed? Has he told you that?”

  “Of course not. Ed doesn’t even want to admit it to himself. I’ve discovered that Ed has an issue committing to the idea of monogamy. But you only have to observe him when Millie is around. I couldn’t marry Millie even if she’d have me.”

  Ginny smirked, sneaking a look at him. “Oh, she’d have you.” She thought about Ed’s bidding for Millie, and she thought back to several other instances. It was true. Ed’s demeanor changed whenever he was in Millie’s presence. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Her plan didn’t have to be ruined after all just because Phin wasn’t going to willingly participate. Still . . . he could be wrong.

  “You don’t know that for sure,” she said.

  He threw up his hands. “I can see you’re not convinced, and your head is probably concocting more silly schemes.”

  “They’re not silly,” she said. “In fact, I almost had you today. A little fine-tuning on my part, and my plans will go ahead just as planned.”

  “Which is what I’m scared of,” he said. Before she could offer an argument, which was inevitable, he continued, “Ginny, I’m going to offer you a solution in return for your silence.”

  “Oh, good.” She let out a sigh. “That saves me from having to blackmail you.”

  That threw him. “Was that ever a possibility?”

  She bit her lip, causing him to look at her plump lower lip. “It was my backup plan.”

  Well that was alarming. “It’s a good thing I got to you before you put that in motion. Now I see that it is necessary that I offer this alternative.”

  Chapter Eight

  GINNY KEPT LOOKING at the timepiece by the front door of the store. Phin said he would be in for his first portrait session by three o’clock, and he was twelve minutes late. Her father kept looking over at her, asking her if everything was well with her. She’d smiled so many times at him, she felt like her cheeks might freeze and keep the expression for the rest of her life.

  She wasn’t worried about not starting on her portrait; in fact, that was the furthest thing from her mind. She was, however, apprehensive about the pact that she’d made with Phin the night she’d invited him in for coffee. He was her archenemy, after all, and nemeses were notorious for being untrustworthy.

  Phin had decided to help her with her undercover wish-granting campaign if she would fulfill certain conditions. “If anything,” he’d teased, “it will get you to stop soliciting help from the schoolroom.” His first condition was that she was forbidden from pairing him up with Millie or with anyone else. “You are not allowed to interfere in my personal life even if you think you are being helpful.” She’d argued, of course. She had several friends from good, honest families who might make a good match with Phin. He’d quickly let her know that the condition was nonnegotiable. She could also not tell anyone about his true last name, or his family, at which point she’d reminded him that she could have told anyone at any point and had chosen not to. “I understand that,” he’d said, “But you’ve clearly had a winning card up your sleeve, one you could use at the slightest provocation. You’ll have to promise not to even if you get upset with me.”

  “How will you know I haven’t,” she’d countered.

  “I’ll have to trust you.” That had made her smile because he’d looked so unhappy about it.

  She had to admit, having Phin as an ally was already proving beneficial. With a speed and resourcefulness he would not divulge to her, he’d procured a stereoscope for Hank Jameson. When she’d first seen it, she’d turned to him in confusion. He’d placed the wooden Holmes stereoscope in her hands and raised both to her eyes. While she held it in place, he’d swept one stereo card after the other until it dawned on her. Each card was a print of a different place in the world. The collection included several from the United States—Boston, Sitka, Alaska, and Oregon. The rest of them quite literally took her breath away as she pulled back and stared down at the double images in her hands. Algeria, Austria, England, France, Germany, Holland, India, Italy, Mexico, Spain, Tangier, Morocco and Turkey.

  “It’s the world,” she’d told him in wonderment. It wasn’t the literal world, no. It wasn’t a ticket on a boat to sail through the seas to every spot, nor a train ticket to cross the land from west to east. But it was a start. She’d almost choked up in front of Phin because it was quite literally the best gift. She’d managed to tamp down the emotion enough to express that she was impressed with his ingenuity. “Hank is going to adore this gift.” And begrudgingly, “Thank you.”

  Being the miscreant that he was, he’d taken every opportunity to throw those two words back in her face. “I think that should be the only thing you should say to me from here on out,” he’d said. To which she replied, “That smug look on your face might be the reason you haven’t found the future Mrs. Whitemore.”

  Phin rushed into the store with a gust of wind at his back. He greeted her father and walked over to Ginny’s section.

  “I’m here for my portrait session,” he said, loud enough for her father’s benefit.

  Ginny tried not to groan at his theatricality. He was too cheerful an actor.

  “Who has my three pals today,” Phin asked.

  Ginny’s father chortled. “Mr. Smith.”

  “I hope he wishes for a good barber,” Phin muttered under his breath. Only Ginny heard his comment, and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. Mr. Smith had the longest, most unflattering mustache and beard, and no one had the heart to tell him how unattractive it was. “If only he’d trim it,” Millie had said once, “he might turn out to be the man of my dreams.”

  “Ginny, you go ahead with Phin to the office, so you can have some privacy while you sketch.”

  So it was Phin now, was it? Ginny had spoken to her father about his unexpected contribution to the auction, and about her embarrassment at having Phin prevailed upon to bid for her artwork. Her father had genuinely looked perplexed and told her he thought she would be pleased. She’d tried to explain how what he had done was not pleasing but stopped herself shortly when he seemed not to comprehend her reasons for distress.

  “Phin, we’re having a round of roast that Ginny put into the oven earlier. It’s a simple meal, but we’d love you to join us for supper if you don’t already have plans.”

  Ginny wanted to stomp her foot with frustration. Her father was utterly clueless! She had agreed to be partners with Phin, and in public, he was only seeing her to collect his auction prize, but that was the extent of their relationship. She didn’t want to sit
in their cramped dining room above stairs and share a meal with him. She glared daggers at her father away from Phin’s view, but her father never once turned her way. She could only hope Phin would refuse since he wasn’t too fond of her company, either.

  “I would love to, John. Thank you for the invitation.”

  Ginny goggled at him, quite openly. He extended his arm out toward the back office. “Shall we get started?”

  She huffed out of the room, her mind set on murder. The question was: should she go for her father first, or Phin?

  SHE SKETCHED IN silence. Phin figured that was because she was too busy scowling at him. He liked having her wary around him. She was too unpredictable when she was sure of herself, and it put him on edge. He was waiting for the day when he’d step out of the newspaper office to see her, the preacher, and a woman Ginny had decided would be the perfect mate for him. The woman was trouble, and the longer he had her guessing, the safer he’d be.

  She stared at him from over the top of her sketchbook. “Is Phin your real name?”

  She startled a laugh out of him. “Yes.”

  “What’s your full name?”

  “Phineas Franklin Whitemore. And yours?”

  “Eugenia Leonie Overton.”

  “Leonie?”

  “My mother was French.”

  Phin nodded slowly, careful not to move too much since she was drawing his face. “Do you remember anything about your mother?”

  At first, she seemed reluctant to speak about the deceased matriarch of her family. With a few subtle questions, he got her to open up about the woman who had departed and left a lasting void. Ginny spoke in spurts, starting off slowly, as if speaking about her mother was not something she did often. She probably avoided the topic so as not to injure her father. That had to be hard since John was not the only one to have loved and lost her.

  It wasn’t until her father called her out that Ginny realized they hadn’t once spoken about the next person on the wish list. She turned to Phin. He read her mind. “I’m working on it. I’ve asked Ed to pick up breakfast at the bakery to get him in constant contact with Millie. I’ve called a friend in Cheyenne to help obtain the piano for Mr. and Mrs. Wilder, and I’m working on ideas for Mrs. Clancy’s wish. Go ahead. We’ll talk later.”

 

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