Chapter 2
Luna had not seen the tall wardsman, not so much as a glimpse, these last two weeks.
She’d all but given up looking for him, and half-wondered if he’d been assigned to patrol some different part of the city.
Just as well for her if so! The last thing she needed was a wardsman showing too much interest in her place of work.
But there he was. Larger than life, striding into the shop.
Radiating all the masculine confidence and power which had so impressed her at their first two meetings.
He cast his gaze slowly over the flowers and little tables and finally brought it to rest on Luna, where she stood fortified behind the counter.
His face broke into a smile.
He had dimples. One on each side. And shockingly white teeth.
Luna set the two teacups down with a clatter of porcelain.
“I’ll deal with this!” she whispered hastily and pushed open the hinged portion of the counter, darting out onto the floor.
Only then did it occur to her how it might look to Mr. Grimm.
Like she was rushing out to greet a . . .
a beau. Or something. Not that it mattered how it looked to Mr. Grimm.
Or what he thought. Or how he interpreted things.
Carefully tugging her left cuff to make certain it covered her wrist, Luna composed her face into demure lines and glided down the center aisle. Did Officer Ward’s smile grow the nearer she drew? He should be more careful with that thing—it was downright blinding!
“Good afternoon, officer,” she said crisply. “On the trail of another black market flower seller?”
“Not today, no.” He swept the cap from his head, letting his dark curl fall free over his brow. His green eyes glinted. “I’m on my break, actually. And I’ve heard so many rumors about this being the finest teashop in Lower Eastside, I thought I’d check it out for myself.”
Somewhere behind her, Mr. Grimm muttered, “It’s a flower shop.”
“Well,” Luna said, maybe a little louder than necessary, “we are closed for the moment, but will reopen in . . .” She stopped and glanced back at the clock. “Actually, I suppose we’re open again now. May I, erm, seat you?”
“Yes, thank you, Miss Talbot,” Officer Ward replied. Luna felt a little warm squiggling something inside at the fact that he’d learned her name. Where or how, she couldn’t guess; she’d certainly not given it to him.
As the chilly morning had warmed up nicely, she sat Ward outside at one of the new tables under the awning and offered to take his order. “Surprise me,” he said, with another dangerous grin.
Luna hurried back inside, her heart more aflutter than she liked to admit.
What to serve a man like that? Certainly not Tea for a Time of Prayer!
Choosing a hearty taerel-cinnamon blend, Luna poured water from the still-hot kettle and set the tea to brewing.
The shop bells rang several more times while she was about this task, announcing the arrival of more customers.
Thank goodness! She should be kept too busy to worry overmuch over Officer Ward.
When his tea was prepared—complete with a splash of milk and a sprinkle of sugar—Luna carried it out from the kitchen, pleased at the composure with which she was conducting herself, the distinct lack of tremble in her fingers.
Mr. Grimm’s gaze followed her across the shop, but she didn’t look his way.
She smiled politely to a pair of middle-aged ladies and proceeded back out to the shady spot under the awning.
“Here you are,” she said, setting her tea down before the wardsman. “One dark taerel and cinnamon. Enjoy.”
“Wait a minute.” Ward’s hand snaked out and caught her left wrist. Luna’s heart jumped. She turned sharply to look back down at him, but he was smiling again, showing off both dimples. “Won’t you join me?”
“Oh! No.” She tugged, and he relinquished her hand, which she hastily hid behind her back. “No, I have, um, customers.”
“No worries.” He tipped back his seat a little, the picture of ease, despite how very overlarge his frame was for such a small, uncomfortable sort of chair. “I’ll wait.”
And wait he did. He sat out there, under the awning, for the better part of an hour, while Luna kept herself as busy as could be inside.
She hoped he would eventually grow bored and wander off.
But he was in no hurry, apparently. Why did his presence so discomfit her?
Luna didn’t really think he was here snooping after sorcery.
If he were, he had a funny way of going about it.
Was it just that smile of his, which seemed to throw her for a loop?
It was quite a nice smile. And somehow nicer when paired with those enormous shoulders.
Finally, knowing the moment couldn’t be put off, Luna returned to the table under the awning. She schooled her face into a cool mask of politeness, but when she saw his cup still mostly full, the mask melted away at once. “Was the tea not to your liking?” she asked anxiously.
Ward looked up at her, his expression wry. “I have a confession, Miss Talbot. I actually hate tea.”
“Really?” Her lips thinned, and she reached to reclaim the cup and saucer. “In that case, it’s on the house, sir. Have a good—”
“What I truly came for,” he continued, his gaze running briefly up and down her figure, “is the view.”
It was not a discreet look. But it somehow managed to stay just on the polite side of lewd.
Luna, fully aware that her face must be scarlet, hastily turned and looked down toward the harbor. “Yes, well, Addle Street does look very nice just now, with the festival coming. And look! You can see the fete wheel being set up from here.”
Ward leaned one elbow on the little table. “Are you attending the festival tomorrow, Miss Talbot?”
“I hope to. That is, if the shop isn’t open. Mr. Grimm can’t do without me, you know.”
“Something tells me a big boy like Mr. Grimm can manage a few flowers on his own.” Ward grinned. “So what do you say to seeing the festival with me? I’ve spent my whole life in Ballycastle, and I can show you all the best sights.” He winked. “I’ll even win you a prize, if you like.”
“Oh!” Luna stopped herself from placing a hand on her heart in exact replica of Auntie Arabella in a fit of vapors.
Green Mother save her, this was not how she expected this day to go!
Two invitations to the same event? Or rather, one invitation and one sort-of-almost invitation that probably shouldn’t count, but maybe kind of did?
“I, um. It’s very kind of you, Officer Ward,” she managed.
“But . . . if I can be spared from the shop, that is . . . I promised to attend with my roommate.” There.
That was a proper excuse, wasn’t it? One she really ought to have said to Mr. Grimm, forestalling any potential embarrassment.
Odd that it hadn’t occurred to her any sooner.
She watched Officer Ward’s face, searching for signs of displeasure.
There were none, however. He merely smiled again, a little ruefully perhaps, and rose from his seat, offering another wink.
“As I wouldn’t want to be set upon by a pack of angry flowers, I’ll accept that answer and take my leave.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll see you there tomorrow. G’day, Miss Talbot.”
With that, he placed his hat securely back on his head, covering the stray curl and somehow making himself look ten times more masculine and impressive.
He flipped a coin onto the table, then strode away down the sidewalk at an easy pace, whistling softly the familiar strains of “A Rose in the Rain.”
Luna swallowed with some difficulty. When had the day grown so warm?
She turned to reenter the shop, but her gaze flicked down to the teacup in her hand. Luna chewed her lip. Then, with a quick side-to-side glance, she dashed the last of the tea into the nearest flowerpot and peered at the dregs in the bottom of the cup.
At first she saw nothing. Perhaps Officer Ward hadn’t drunk enough for the Sight to be of any use?
Then an image, very soft and blurry, like a watercolor painting, took shape before her mind’s eye.
She saw Officer Ward, resplendent in a dark blue, formal uniform, complete with medals on his breast. He danced, very gracefully for his size, in the most extraordinarily beautiful ballroom she’d ever imagined, alight with enchanted chandeliers and festooned in flowers.
In his arms was a slender young woman wearing a shimmeringly glorious, pink-and-yellow ballgown, a large double-delight rose pinned to her dark curls.
They performed a turn, and the woman’s face came into sight, and . . .
Luna gasped.
She ripped her gaze away from the cup, heart thudding like rapid fire. For some moments, she could only stand there, staring at nothing, while the sounds of the busy street went by unheeded all around her.
“Well, Extremely Great Aunt Amelia,” she whispered at last. “Perhaps your Sight wasn’t so weak after all?”