Jane Goodger Read Online Free Page A

that at the moment seemed to be shooting daggers at Carson.
    “Amelia, this here’s Agatha. She’s our housekeeper, and she helps Boone out in his office and the store sometimes. Agatha, this is Miss Wellesley.”
    “Lady Amelia, actually, though I suppose I shall have to get used to informalities. I am Carson’s intended,” Amelia said, slightly baffled by the familiarity between the two. No matter how much she adored her servants back home, none would have ever called her by her given name. It was almost unthinkable.
    Agatha’s deeply wrinkled face split into a grin. “Ain’t you fancy,” she said, as if delighted by the discovery. “Your brother wanted to know if that is a good idea. I suppose the hotel won’t do for Lady Amelia. Not with your…”
    “Thanks, Aggie,” Carson said, interrupting the older woman.
    Amelia smiled, as it dawned on her that perhaps she could stretch propriety a bit since she was in the Wild West. If the Kitteridges had a housekeeper, she could certainly act as a chaperone. “This is perfect. Why didn’t you tell me you had a housekeeper? Agatha will serve as a chaperone, won’t you, Agatha?”
    “Chaperone?” she asked haltingly, as if she’d never heard the word before.
    “You shall make certain that Carson takes no more liberties with me,” she said, giving Carson a stern look.
    Agatha smiled. “I could do that,” she said agreeably, ignoring Carson’s mock scowl, then looked instantly worried. “What about the night? I live down yonder with my husband.” She worried her hands in a blue and red apron she wore over her faded yellow dress. “My Dulce, my daughter, will do. She’s a widow and all she does is mope around the house doing nothing but complain that she has nothing to do.”
    “No,” Carson said, and instantly, Agatha scowled.
    “Why ever not?” Amelia asked. “I do need a maid. I didn’t realize how much until I let mine go.” She eyed Carson, who seemed adamantly opposed to the idea. “I suppose I’ll have to stay in the hotel.”
    Carson and Agatha said “no” in unison.
    “There is a puta there,” the housekeeper said darkly, glaring again at Carson.
    “What’s a puta? ” Amelia asked, and Carson nearly choked.
    “It’s Spanish for a lady who is, um, free with her favors,” Carson said.
    “Not free,” Agatha said.
    Amelia felt her cheeks turn red. “I understand, Agatha. Don’t worry.” She turned to Carson, who looked pained. “What is wrong with Dulce?”
    “Nothing’s wrong that a little hard work won’t cure. And I’m thinkin’ you’ll be a fine influence on her. Dulce could use a bit of polishin’ up,” Agatha said, letting out a sound that was decidedly cackly.
    “I never said there was something wrong with Dulce,” Carson said in a placating tone. Then he spoke to Agatha in fluent Spanish, which Amelia found quite bothersome. However, it wasn’t difficult to tell that whatever it was he was saying, Agatha didn’t much like. After a few minutes of rapid-fire Spanish, Agatha looked smug and Carson looked decidedly dejected.
    “I’ll go tell Dulce the good news,” Agatha said happily.
    “What was that all about?” Amelia asked when Agatha had gone. “I hope you know it is terribly rude to speak in a foreign language in front of someone who knows no Spanish. I didn’t even know you could speak another language. You don’t know French or German, do you? Italian? I’m fairly proficient at each, but not Spanish.”
    “I picked it up here and there. We had a bunch of those Spanish fellows in the Wild West show. Darn good cowboys. And Agatha’s married to a Spaniard.”
    “What do you have against her daughter?”
    “Do you know what Dulce means in Spanish?”
    Amelia shook her head.
    “It means ‘sweet.’ That girl is about as sweet as a lemon before it turns yellow.”
    Soon after Agatha disappeared into the house, Boone came out looking unhappy. “Why don’t you go get Miss Wellesley’s bags,”