Just to Have You (Blackwood & Friends #3)

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Griff: "People are different. Though I find it particularly odd that you do not enjoy eating tomatoes. That is quite strange."

Ben, scooping the tomatoes from his plate onto hers: "Have them all then, since you are so fond of them."

(B & G conversation about differences 5 years prior)

There appeared to be a situation of mild pandemonium unfolding around her.

After a brief stop at the Gravewood's townhouse residence in London for a fresh change of clothes and a short meeting with Lady Hollingsworth, who was dutifully attending Amy's mother during their stay, Oliver rushed her out to yet another stop, griping about the amount of time she had spent on her appearance.

Though Amy was unmarried and quite decidedly on the shelf at seven and twenty, Lady Hollingsworth had felt obliged to inform her that though they were favouring leniency with regards to chaperoning her, which was laughable really as Amy could have been a chaperone to a younger girl herself, there would be other ladies in attendance of where she was headed presently with Oliver who would fill the role suitably.

Oliver had guffawed outright at that.

As Amy now stood in what appeared to be a small indoor jungle, there was a building crescendo of shouts and enraged voices coming from above.

They were to convene with Oliver's friends for tea at a place dubbed 'The Den' though there seemed to be very little decorum taking place currently as Oliver ushered her inside. The building seemed to be undergoing extensive repairs and refurbishments, though clearly it was an impressive and unique structure with an open-aired courtyard in the middle, surrounded by rooms and two higher levels on all sides. There was an abundance of greenery and some sort of pond, though it was currently empty, in the centre.

A tiny grey blur careened from one end of the building to the other and Amy rather believed she saw what she thought might be a dog wearing a tiny yellow dress.

"Oh, God, Penelope!" The shortest woman Amy had ever seen bolted after the erratic dog, wearing what she could only perceive to be men's trousers and an oversized white shirt, her dark hair haphazardly knotted atop her head and streaming wildly as it came loose from its binding. "Don't just bloody stand there, Oliver! Get her!"

For his part, Oliver did no such thing. Rather he raised his brow and his face spoke volumes of what he thought of the sheer audacity of the other woman.

The unconventionally dressed and rather furious young lady swore foully at the other man before darting after her dog, who was furiously evading capture. "She has my stocking! Some assistance would be greatly-"

"Blanche!" There was a pronounced masculine roar from the upper levels, promptly followed by a rain of papers and other debris that drifted down to the tiled floor at varying levels of velocity. "I do not care that he is your brother, I am going to hit him!"

Oliver wisely pulled Amy under the safety of the cover provided by the landing of the first floor above them as the variety of items began to clatter about on the floor.

The woman, assumedly named Blanche, suddenly dove behind a huge potted plant. There ensued a yelp and a scuffle, but she emerged triumphant with the small, quivering dog tucked under one arm and her rescued stocking clasped in her fist. Then she glared up at Oliver. "Thanks for your help," she muttered, before turning her head up to the commotion upstairs. "Hit him!" she yelled to the ceiling. "I hardly mind!"

"I beg your pardon!" A head appeared over the topmost balustrade- the face of an astonishingly handsome man with a look of mild affront. "If this is the repayment I receive for assisting you-"