Just to Have You (Blackwood & Friends #3)

Chapter Twenty

"I suppose that will have to do," Heather grumbled and then her face brightened entirely.

The reason for the change in her mother's countenance was caused by Oliver's entrance as he strode into the shop with his hands behind his back, a complacent grin on his face. "My two favourite girls," he said smoothly, dipping over Heather to press a kiss to her cheek.

Her mother practically gushed at the attention. It did not help one bit that only this morning had she discovered that he was courting her daughter, stumbling upon the news when she had made a rare appearance upstairs and located the two red roses atop Amy's table. A rather astute and leading interrogation had ensued and Amy had confessed, not that she ever kept anything from her mother anyway. However, she had been enjoying the anonymity of Oliver's attentions the last two days without any of Haventry's interference. Now that Heather knew and had quite clearly been making her rounds of the village that morning, she was sure to be bombarded with inquisitive gossips in no time at all.

Heather patted Oliver's cheek affectionately, outright gushing now. "Always wanted you for a son-in-law, my boy," she told him and Amy rolled her eyes. Magic how quickly her mother was able to shift from berating a daughter to fawning over another.

"We are courting, mother," she told her pointedly, "not engaged."

Oliver straightened and gave her a wolfish grin. "For another twenty days yet," he said, smoothly depositing his third rose on her countertop along with a steaming cup of-

"Coffee," Amy sighed in pleasure, snatching the cup and ignoring the rose, holding it to her nose in appreciation.

"I deduced that you may need the sustenance," Oliver insinuated and earned him a sharp look over the rim of a mug. Luckily for him, she was too busy enjoying the liquid respite to do anything more than that.

"Twenty days?" Heather demanded of Amy indignantly. "Darling, you have nigh been courting the boy for twenty years. Cruel, do you not think, to keep him waiting yet another twenty days?"

"Mmm." Amy had just taken her first sip and couldn't really be bothered to formulate a response.

"My sentiments exactly," Oliver intoned in agreement. "However, you have raised a remarkably headstrong and stubborn woman. One would fare better moving a mule than your daughter."

Amy swallowed, raising her brow. "Are you comparing me to an ass?"

"Of course not, dear." His grin was entirely too magnanimous for her liking. "A mule has better temperament."

There was nothing that wouldn't break in her reachable vicinity to lob at his head so Amy settled a firm glower of malcontent on her brow and nestled her nose back into her cup of coffee.

When Mr Coppinger hobbled downstairs from his offices and residence above, her attention was diverted by conversing briefly with the aged man to ensure the safe transporting of her mother and her vials to the cottage. Knowing that he was paying a visit to his son who lived in a town a few miles outside Haventry, Amy was certain that Mr Coppinger would not hesitate at offering her mother assistance. He was a genial man, respectful and endlessly kind, especially where Amy was concerned. She rather thought he had taken a special liking to her because of her own lack of paternal figure in her life, therefore he had readily enlisted her help in the store even though business never picked up and help was surely unnecessary for such a small venture. And when he had wanted to sell the shop years ago, he had promised Amy to wait until she had the means with which to purchase it. She wondered if his patience would wear thin, though if her projections of accumulated savings were accurate, he would not need wait more than one more year further.