Chapter TWO
Until that exact moment, memory of her planned date with Officer Ward had slipped Luna’s mind entirely.
It struck her like a thunderclap now.
Oh, Green Mother above! She’d promised him she’d meet him at Huck ‘n Clovers at seven. He was supposed to take her to The King’s Crown for dinner. And she’d never showed up, never bothered to send a message. And she’d spent the last week staring at her ceiling, trying so hard not to think about Mr. Grimm, while John Ward and his handsome face and his dimples never crossed the threshold of her brain. Not even once.
She was, in fact, a terrible person.
“Oh,“
she gasped softly, “no.”
She felt altogether too aware of Mr. Grimm standing beside her. Of a strange sort of bristling in his manner which she couldn’t quite define. He disapproved of her unprofessional dealings with the handsome wardsman, she was sure of it. Delicate flirtations were not appropriate in the workplace. Not to mention Ward was an officer in the Special Sorcery Suppression Department, and if he ever got wind of Garden or the sorcerous means by which Mr. Grimm kept it hidden behind his boiler room door, it would spell certain disaster. For all of them.
Luna turned swiftly to her boss, conscious of how loudly her heart thudded in her pulse. “You’d best get upstairs, Mr. Grimm. That is . . . I mean, in your condition . . .”
He looked hard into her eyes. His expression was something she couldn’t quite read, but it held her firmly in place, and she felt strangely as though she could not move again if he did not release her. He opened his mouth to speak, then stopped and looked down at his dressing gown-clad self. The front of the gown had opened, revealing striped pajamas that were not buttoned all the way, offering a view of rather a lot of collarbone and sternum and unexpectedly hairy chest. Not to mention the edge of a heptagram tattoo. Which was something Officer Ward definitely did not need to see.
“Oh!“
Luna gasped again and, without fully thinking about what she did, took a step, grabbed the front of his dressing gown, and pulled it closed. Mr. Grimm’s hands moved as though to take hold of her wrists, but she was too quick for him. She slipped around behind him and gave a firm push. “Upstairs! Now! Please!”
Mr. Grimm did not say anything. He staggered a step, caught his balance. Then, lifting the hinged portion of the counter, he slipped out and darted away to the stairwell, vanishing from sight in a last flutter of long, black tassels. Luna listened to the sound of his bare feet hastening up the steps.
Chewing her lip, she turned to the door. And Ward’s grinning face.
What could she possibly say to him?
“The truth,“
she muttered, even as she smoothed back her hair, then smoothed the front of her apron for good measure. Forcing herself to leave the fortification of the counter, she crossed the shop floor. “Tell him the truth. You were sick. You’ve been recovering. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Ward’s grin seemed to grow as he watched her drawing nearer. The sight of it made her stomach feel funny. Someone really ought to make him carry a license around for a smile of that intense magnetism! And how had she forgotten how very large and broad he was? He seemed to take up all the space under the awning. Many times she’d entertained the passing thought that John Ward looked as though he belonged on the cover of one of Auntie Arabella’s racy novels, which she kept in a secret stash in her darning basket. He might have been created by the gods for the sole purpose of looming over blushing ladies, his shirt ripped partially open, the wind stirring his luscious hair.
Ward’s pea-green SSSD uniform, however, was properly buckled and buttoned, no rips to be had, and his hair was cropped short. But when he removed his wardsman’s hat, that center curl of his bobbed freely over his forehead. Not quite flowing locks, but close enough to do the trick.
Luna took a steadying breath. Then, pushing a smile onto her own lips, she unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Ward!“
Gods, why did her voice have to shake so badly? “I—I’m ever-so sorry—”
“I’m here on official business, Miss Talbot,“
Ward said, his grin vanishing in an expression of professional sternness. He drew himself up straight and pulled a very stiff salute, only to flash a wink that quite undid the whole effect and left Luna reeling.
She gaped up at him. “Official business?”
“Yes, indeed. A complaint was filed at the SSSD.”
Luna’s stomach plunged. Almost unconsciously, she put her hands behind her back, tugging the cuff of her left sleeve a little lower to hide the heptagram tattoo on her wrist. “Oh? What sort of complaint?”
“It would appear someone at this address was seen to be using illegal sorcery over at Bootblack Alley on Green Yule morning.“
Ward fished into the front of his coat and withdrew an official-looking document, which he unfolded. “It says here, and I quote”—he cleared his throat before reading—“One Mr. Nigel Grimm of The Arcane Bouquet, Addle Street, assaulted one Mrs. Lucretia Boggs of Number 27, Bootblack Alley, using means both sorcerous and foul.”
Luna felt all the blood drain from her cheeks. “M—Mr. Grimm?“
she echoed. Then: “Mrs. Boggs?”
“That’s right. It would seem old Grimmsy quite terrorized the poor lady.”
“But—but how?“
Luna shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. Mrs. Boggs had been unusually lenient over the last week, only barging into Luna’s garret a handful of times to rage about overdue rents and expel her litany of threats. By her usual standards, she was quite subdued. Could it be that Mr. Grimm had done something?
Luna crossed her arms. “And what sort of sorcery is he supposed to have used?”
Ward looked down at the paper again. “It’s all a bit vague on that point, truth be told. Something about black-flashing eyes, which strikes me as a contradiction in terms, but her words, not mine. She also claims he transformed into a giant, right in her front foyer. Is this something you’ve seen Mr. Grimm do on occasion, Miss Talbot?”
Despite herself, Luna’s memory flashed back to the moment when she had, in fact, seen her employer momentarily transform into a seven-foot figure of darkness, standing in the gateway of Lord Bruxley’s driveway. But she bit her lip, swallowed hard, and shook her head firmly. “Not around the shop, no,“
she added. Which made it not a lie.
“Yeah, thought as much.“
Ward folded the paper into quarters. “Somehow, I can’t picture Old Grimm as a figure of supreme darkness and evil, can you?”
She could, actually. More easily than she wanted to admit.
But she wasn’t about to tell Ward that!
Luna shook her head, trying to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it.
Ward leaned against the doorway then, tipping his head toward her. “Hey. Don’t worry. It’s nothing but a laugh, really. I swear. We get complaints like this in all the time. Vague, unsubstantiated, and always crackling. No doubt something about your Mr. Grimm offended this Mrs. Boggs, and she took it into her head to get vengeance on him. A scorned lover, perhaps?”
At this, Luna’s brain very nearly short-circuited. The idea of Mrs. Boggs and Mr. Grimm being in any way romantically entangled was so absolutely bizarre! “Um,“
she managed to gasp. “I, um . . .”
Ward laughed and shook his head. “I’ve hit on it, haven’t I? I always suspected the old boy was secretly a bit of a lad. Well, no harm done, I trust.“
With that, he tore up the document and let the little pieces scatter on the doorstep. Luna gaped down at them, shocked. “Oh, it would have gone in the dismissal file, for sure,“
Ward said, still grinning. “I only picked it up because I saw the address, and I’ve been looking for an excuse to make my way down here since I got back from visiting my mam for Green Yule.“
He lifted his eyebrows then and tilted his head a little to one side. “I don’t suppose you want to invite me in?”
“Oh!“
Luna wrenched her gaze from the torn pieces of document and took a quick step back. “Of course. Come in, Ward.”
He stepped through, and she paused a moment to peek out onto the sidewalk, just in case some other customer might come and save her from the embarrassment of what was bound to be an extremely awkward conversation. No such luck. The whole street was uncharacteristically empty save for a single automagic mobile, put-putting by, leaving a plume of thaumatic exhaust. Luna flipped the sign to OPEN, just in case, then shut the door.
When she turned around, it was to find Ward looking over the double-delight rose. He inspected the bounteous blooms, nodding in appreciation. “Very nice,“
he murmured before turning to Luna. He didn’t seem to notice when the rose stretched out a shameless cane to caress his knee, taking care not to let its thorns catch. The hussy.
“So,“
Ward said, hooking his thumbs in his belt, “I’ve been practicing my piece.”
“Your piece?“
Luna echoed, brow puckering. She twisted her fingers nervously behind her, unconsciously tugging at her cuff again.
“That’s right. I wanted to be sure I had it all straight before I came down here and recited it for you.”
“Ward, I—”
He held up a hand. “No, wait! Let me get it out. It’s quite nice, actually, and I’ve worked it over a few times, so please. No interruptions.“
Clearing his throat, he tossed the curl back from his forehead and looked her square in the eye. “I like you, Luna. I like you a lot. I think you’re quite the thing, as the kids say. However, if you prefer I don’t ask you out again, I completely understand and will respect your decision. I hope we can still be friends and all that, though we both know that’s just something people say, not something that gets put into practice all that often. But I mean it, insofar as it goes.”
Luna, wondering if she ought to interject here began, “Oh, Ward—”
“No, no! I’m not quite finished yet.“
He drew a long breath. “This part’s the tough bit, and I want to be sure I get it right. Please, understand that I mean no scolding here, but . . . but I have to say, it was a rum thing, standing me up like that! Sorry, I was going to try to put that much better. But you get it, don’t you? I spent hours wandering up and down the aisles at Huck ‘n Clover’s. I’ve had dates broken before. It’s been a while, I’ll admit, but it has happened. All those girls, however, at least made some excuse. Sent a note. Rang me up. Something of the kind.”
“But, Ward—”
“Now,“
he rushed on, “I have thought about it some, and here’s the thing. If I did or said anything that made you feel you couldn’t be straight with me, I do most sincerely apologize. The last thing I want is for any girl to feel hustled into spending time with me. I think I’m a pretty pleasant chap, and I know how to treat a lady. My old mam brought me up right that way. But I’m a rough sort of bloke, and spend my days with rough sorts of blokes, and some of the polish may have been knocked off here and there. So, if I ever—”
“Ward!”
He stopped at last. Looked at her with a sad-dog expression that was entirely incongruous on such a strong-jawed face. Like if a pitbull suddenly remembered that it, too, had been a puppy once.
“Ward, it wasn’t you,“
Luna said. “I was sick.”
He blinked. Then realization dawned. “Right! The cough!”
“Yes. I was coughing pretty bad the day you asked me out. Turns out it was more than just a little tickle in the throat. Pneumonia. An ugly case of it, too. Knocked me clean out, and I’m so sorry, Ward, but I completely forgot about our date. And when I began to feel better, well . . . I couldn’t very well ring up the SSSD, you know.”
She didn’t think it politic to add that it had never occurred to her to reach out to him during her interminable week of convalescence. That seemed unnecessarily cruel. Besides, she would have remembered him eventually, surely.
Ward opened his mouth, closed it again. Then he blew through his lips and shook his head. “Wow. Don’t I feel like a right cad now?”
“Oh, no!“
Luna held up a hand in protest and offered a smile. “You couldn’t possibly have known. And I hope you believe me, I would never have stood you up like that on purpose. I’m not that sort of girl.“
She hoped this was true, at least. She wasn’t entirely certain what “sort of girl“ she was in matters like this, having no practical experience with men, dating, or romance of any kind. But again, she didn’t think Ward needed to know that.
“I didn’t think you were,“
he said. “Not really. That’s why I’ve been going round and round in my head all this time, trying to figure it out.“
He gave her another one of those big, easy grins of his, and she felt her face go hot. It was a lot to be grinned at like that by such a magnificent specimen! Who could miss summer weather when there were such smiles going around?
“So,“
he continued, taking a step toward her, “what do you think about setting a fresh date for our dinner?”
Luna looked down at her hands. “May I . . . may I be honest with you, Ward?”
“Uh oh. Here it comes.“
Ward heaved a sigh but drew his shoulders back bravely. “I’m braced for it now. Fire at will.”
Luna flicked her gaze up at him. “I, um. I don’t feel I’m in a position to accept dates just now.”
“I see.“
He leaned his head forward a little, his expression earnest. “Is there another fellow?”
“No!“
she protested, maybe a little too quickly, ignoring the rush of heat to her cheeks. “No, it’s not that, it’s just . . . my life is a bit . . . complicated.“
Once more she fiddled with her cuff, praying to the Green Mother that Ward wouldn’t notice. Putting her hands behind her back again, she clasped her fingers tight. “I simply wouldn’t want to . . . to excite any expectations, as it were.”
Ward’s eyes narrowed, not in an unfriendly expression. Merely considering. “I think I catch your drift,“
he said. “Womenfolk are a mystery, and you more than most, if you don’t mind my saying it. But sure. Sure, I can take a hint.“
He shrugged and heaved another sigh. “Well, best of luck to you with all life’s various complications.“
Moving toward the door, he settled the hat onto his head, stuffing the curl up under the brim. Then he cast her one last, dazzling, dimpled smile, and winked. “Glad you’re feeling better. Cheerio!“
With a little salute and a tinkle of shop bells, he stepped out onto the sidewalk. Luna stood rooted for some moments, watching him go through the window.
A number of thoughts tumbled in her brain at once. For one, there was the undeniable dazzle-factor of that smile of his. Impossible to ignore. For another, those massive shoulders, that powerful, muscular frame, that romance-novel swooniness, all begged the question: What are you thinking, girl?
And he liked her. He liked her. Not her redheaded roommate. Which . . . well, that had to count for something, hadn’t it?
Luna twisted her lips into a little knot. Then, with an, “Oh!“
she darted to the door, yanked it open, and, despite the cold, despite Dr. Bucket’s orders to keep her throat wrapped and to protect herself from sudden chills, launched out onto the sidewalk. Her new boots skidded on the ice. She righted herself, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “Ward!”
The officer stopped just as he was coming to the turn onto Pembroke. He looked back, saw her, and his eyes brightened. He took a few paces her direction, then stopped, uncertain.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Luna trotted toward him, covering the space between them, but stopped a few yards away. “I just wanted to say,“
she gasped, her breath coming in little icy vapors before her lips, “you should visit the shop again sometime. I . . . I know you said you hated tea, but I think I could find one you like. If you give me a chance.”
“I don’t know,“
Ward said, pushing the hat back on his head until the curl escaped once more. “I really hate tea. It might take a couple of visits for me to find one to my liking.”
Luna smiled, her face warming despite the cold. “I like a challenge,” she said.
“So do I, Luna Talbot.“
His grin burst brilliantly forth once more. “So do I.“
With that, he touched his hat in salute, turned, and strolled away onto Pembroke, whistling “A Rose in the Rain“
as he went.
Shivering with cold, but still smiling, Luna turned around and retraced her footsteps in the snow, back to the open shop door. After all, she had seen that vision of herself and John Ward in his teacup, all those weeks ago. Apparently, their story was not yet over. Who was she to argue with fate?