Read Online Fancy Pants (Only In Gooding Book #1) by Cathy Marie Hake - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cathy Marie Hake
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mental note to repeat that timesaving trick. Fighting her way into the legs of some britches, Sydney decided men’s clothing wasn’t quite as simple as it once seemed.
Neither is being a man. Back home, the things men did seemed so simple. They rode and went on fox hunts. Courted women, played billiards, and went to gaming hells. Retired after supper to smoke and drink port . She shook her head. It’s so different here. It’s far more involved and complicated than I imagined .
She made it down the stairs before freight train Creighton rumbled down them. Still, he practically ran her over in the doorway to the dining table.
Velma poured coffee into three mugs and took a place at the table. Servants never sat at the table with their betters—but delight more than covered Sydney’s surprise. She liked Velma, and with someone else at the table, maybe Tim wouldn’t behave so impossibly boorish. “Good morning, Velma. Something smells—” She caught herself just before saying, “delicious.” A man wouldn’t be that flowery . “—smells good.”
“Everything Velma makes is good.” Tim shot the housekeeper a warm smile, then bowed his head. He was halfway through asking the blessing before Sydney got over the shock of realizing Tim could pay anyone a compliment.
They began to eat, and Sydney wondered what Velma had set before her. The taste wasn’t objectionable, so she decided she’d inquire about the meal once Tim finished his and stalked off.
“Velma, Etta Sanders probably needs you to look in on her and the baby,” Tim said between mouthfuls.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you take the morning and do that? You can trade your feed sacks so you have enough to make yourself a nice new dress.”
Velma chuckled. “I wondered how Bert was going to get out of that.”
Sydney gave her a puzzled look.
“Bert and I made a deal—he got the cayenne if I got my feed sacks. I shoulda known that man would weasel outta his end of the bargain.”
“He’s not weaseling.” Tim gulped some coffee. “You don’t want him out there trying to match fabric for you.”
“Why not?” As soon as the question popped out of her mouth, Sydney wished she hadn’t been so indiscreet. To her relief, Tim didn’t seem to have heard her.
As soon as he finished inhaling his portion, Tim looked up at the housekeeper with a beatific smile. “Velma, honey, that’s a meal to make a man’s belly sing. Got any more?”
Sydney could scarcely fathom this side of him. Maybe he’s just had a few bad days and he’s gotten over them .
“I know it’s your favorite. Of course there’s more.” Velma padded off to the kitchen and came back with a skillet clutched in a bright red dishcloth. “How about you? Do you want anymore, Syd?”
“Thank you, no. I’ve sufficient. It is quite tasty, Velma.” She flickered a quick smile and took another bite.
Tim waited until her mouth was full. He patted his rockhard belly and stated with notable enthusiasm, “Yep. Nothing beats a good plate of calf brains and eggs!”
Sydney completely forgot to chew, and she didn’t really want to swallow, either. The very thought that she might have anything so horrendous in her mouth galled her. Tempted to bolt from the table and dash off to the outhouse so she could empty her stomach, Sydney sat perfectly still.
Then she saw the gleam in Tim’s eyes. It took all of her fortitude, but she swallowed that bite. Giving him a mocking grin, she commented as she scooped up a bite of egg, “I disagree. Please don’t mistake me, Velma. Your breakfast is lovely. It’s just that I prefer kidney pie. Blood sausage is good, too. I even like liver.”
“So you like unusual foods, eh?” Tim gave her an assessing look.
The back of her neck prickled. He was up to something, but she wasn’t going to allow him to trap her. “I do enjoy a small selection of several things. I’ve never been one to make a glutton of myself over any particular
Neither is being a man. Back home, the things men did seemed so simple. They rode and went on fox hunts. Courted women, played billiards, and went to gaming hells. Retired after supper to smoke and drink port . She shook her head. It’s so different here. It’s far more involved and complicated than I imagined .
She made it down the stairs before freight train Creighton rumbled down them. Still, he practically ran her over in the doorway to the dining table.
Velma poured coffee into three mugs and took a place at the table. Servants never sat at the table with their betters—but delight more than covered Sydney’s surprise. She liked Velma, and with someone else at the table, maybe Tim wouldn’t behave so impossibly boorish. “Good morning, Velma. Something smells—” She caught herself just before saying, “delicious.” A man wouldn’t be that flowery . “—smells good.”
“Everything Velma makes is good.” Tim shot the housekeeper a warm smile, then bowed his head. He was halfway through asking the blessing before Sydney got over the shock of realizing Tim could pay anyone a compliment.
They began to eat, and Sydney wondered what Velma had set before her. The taste wasn’t objectionable, so she decided she’d inquire about the meal once Tim finished his and stalked off.
“Velma, Etta Sanders probably needs you to look in on her and the baby,” Tim said between mouthfuls.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you take the morning and do that? You can trade your feed sacks so you have enough to make yourself a nice new dress.”
Velma chuckled. “I wondered how Bert was going to get out of that.”
Sydney gave her a puzzled look.
“Bert and I made a deal—he got the cayenne if I got my feed sacks. I shoulda known that man would weasel outta his end of the bargain.”
“He’s not weaseling.” Tim gulped some coffee. “You don’t want him out there trying to match fabric for you.”
“Why not?” As soon as the question popped out of her mouth, Sydney wished she hadn’t been so indiscreet. To her relief, Tim didn’t seem to have heard her.
As soon as he finished inhaling his portion, Tim looked up at the housekeeper with a beatific smile. “Velma, honey, that’s a meal to make a man’s belly sing. Got any more?”
Sydney could scarcely fathom this side of him. Maybe he’s just had a few bad days and he’s gotten over them .
“I know it’s your favorite. Of course there’s more.” Velma padded off to the kitchen and came back with a skillet clutched in a bright red dishcloth. “How about you? Do you want anymore, Syd?”
“Thank you, no. I’ve sufficient. It is quite tasty, Velma.” She flickered a quick smile and took another bite.
Tim waited until her mouth was full. He patted his rockhard belly and stated with notable enthusiasm, “Yep. Nothing beats a good plate of calf brains and eggs!”
Sydney completely forgot to chew, and she didn’t really want to swallow, either. The very thought that she might have anything so horrendous in her mouth galled her. Tempted to bolt from the table and dash off to the outhouse so she could empty her stomach, Sydney sat perfectly still.
Then she saw the gleam in Tim’s eyes. It took all of her fortitude, but she swallowed that bite. Giving him a mocking grin, she commented as she scooped up a bite of egg, “I disagree. Please don’t mistake me, Velma. Your breakfast is lovely. It’s just that I prefer kidney pie. Blood sausage is good, too. I even like liver.”
“So you like unusual foods, eh?” Tim gave her an assessing look.
The back of her neck prickled. He was up to something, but she wasn’t going to allow him to trap her. “I do enjoy a small selection of several things. I’ve never been one to make a glutton of myself over any particular
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