Now that Mrs. Whitaker had uncovered everything—Sophie’s real identity and the actual depth of her affiliation with Oliver Blackwood; she no longer bothered to hide her attempt at matchmaking. Oliver didn’t seem to mind, seeing as he pulled up with a grin on his face.
“Mr. Oliver Blackwood running errands for his grandma?" Sophie teased as she opened the passenger door.
“Well, can you say anything against Mrs. Whitaker?”
“I can not,” Sophie nodded. “That is why I’m here at all.”
“Then we’re in the same boat.”
Oliver started the engine. “Just for the record, I’m only here as the chauffeur. If grandma starts planning our wedding over breakfast, I deny all responsibility.”
Sophie nodded solemnly. “Fair. I’ll deny mine, too.”
Even without a gala, The Whitaker Manor still looked as magni
