Chapter 19
The tall table in the window of the café overlooked the moat of the old keep. This moat fed down into the lake, and from where Luna perched, she could see the duck bridge and even glimpse the little flocks of ducks paddling about, looking for stray pellets of duck feed.
Swinging her feet gently, ankles crossed, Luna turned her gaze from the diamond-paned window to covertly watch Mr. Grimm across the café.
He stood in line to order tea, his attention fixed on the board behind the counter, unaware of her scrutiny.
His features were stern in concentration, reminiscent of the severe, ascetic man Luna once considered him to be.
The stranger with the beautiful voice and the posh manners who once so intimidated her.
She rested her chin on her palm, halfway hiding her smile.
It was hard to remember those former feelings.
Even now, even knowing the danger which lurked in his soul, at the tips of those long, nimble fingers of his, she still saw him as she knew him truly to be.
Sweet, kind, funny. Indulgent of her whims and preferences.
In all honesty, she’d never enjoyed anyone’s company the way she enjoyed this man’s.
Not even the beloved aunties. Bless their dear hearts, they never understood her sense of humor, but remained poised on the edge of shock and horror at all her more zany utterances and ideas.
Never Nigel Grimm. She never felt foolish with him. She never felt too much or too little or too loud or too quiet or too odd. With him, everything she was felt right, somehow.
And the idea of leaving him . . . of venturing back out into the wide, cold, uncaring world . . .
Luna closed her eyes tight and turned to the window once more.
She wasn’t going to think about that. Today was about one thing only: enjoyment.
Tomorrow, she would throw herself into preparing all those orders for the Governor’s Ball.
And the day after that, early in the morning, while the streets of Ballycastle were still swathed in darkness and mist, and the mail train pulled into the station . . .
But that wasn’t today. And though she felt the hours slipping through her fingers like water, today wasn’t over. Not yet.
Luna flushed, thinking about her foolish idea to prolong their outing.
It was nonsense, of course, hiding out at the castle.
She should have known better than to attempt such a scheme.
But it had struck her as a way to keep the day from ending as soon as the tour was over.
A way to keep this time spent with Mr. Grimm going a little longer, and he hadn’t seemed to mind.
He never seemed to mind. Even when he rolled his eyes and pretended disapproval, he was always right there alongside her, and—
“Here you are, Miss Talbot.”
Luna startled as a teacup slid suddenly onto the table in front of her. She hoped Mr. Grimm didn’t hear the slight quaver in her breath and hastily disguised it by leaning over and inhaling aromatic steam. “Oh, is this spiced orange blossom?” she asked.
“Well spotted.” Mr. Grimm set his own teacup in the place opposite her at the high table. “Or well nosed, I suppose I should say. Twiglings brand, of course. I hope that’s all right.”
“It’s perfectly lovely. Twiglings does an excellent spiced orange blossom. It’s good for digestion too. Which might be necessary,” she added with a significant look, “following that luncheon.”
He feigned a shudder, then: “Oh, that reminds me.” Leaving her with the teas, he wove his way swiftly back through the tables to the counter and returned a moment later with a plate of scones, which he placed between them.
“Raspberry and white chocolate,” he said, pointing at one, then the other. “Cheese and chives.”
“Such extravagance!” Luna grinned across the table at him as he took his seat. “You didn’t have to do that, Mr. Grimm.”
He smiled in that adorable way of his, not quite meeting her eye, and pushed the plate a little closer to her. “Please,” he said.
Luna broke off a piece of cheese and chive. “We should eat the savory first,” she said. “It’ll prime the palate for the orange blossom tea. Then finish with the sweet.”
Nigel accepted this suggestion and popped a bite of cheese scone into his mouth.
He turned then, admiring the view from the window, while Luna took the opportunity to admire the lovely line of his jaw.
It was so sharp: a nice, chiseled edge that was very masculine compared to the rest of his features.
Those, when relaxed as they were right now, were almost pretty in their configuration.
Delicate lines traced the edges of his mouth and the corners of his eyes, signs of age, which refined his prettiness quite nicely.
He was an undeniably handsome man. Strange that she hadn’t seen it from the very beginning.
Luna bit her lip, feeling oddly overwhelmed by the beauty of him now.
Her gaze slipped down to his mouth. And she suddenly saw, as she had many times before, the startling vision she had glimpsed in his tea mug all those months ago.
That image of him kissing that red-headed woman.
A passionate, unrestrained, deeply erotic embrace.
Not unlike the way he’d grappled with Bryony in that back passage of the Rowdy House.
His was a mouth that knew what it was doing.
A warm knot of heat fluttered in Luna’s belly. Her fingers tightened, crumbling the piece of scone she held into bits.
Mr. Grimm turned, caught her staring. Luna hastily picked up her teacup and took a gulp, blinking fast. It took a few blinks to clear that image from her mind again, but she managed it in the end.
After all, she had no business dwelling on such things.
Not when Mr. Grimm had made it so very clear over the last many weeks that he did not view her as a potential kissing object.
He sipped his own tea, a thoughtful look on his face. Then, setting the cup back in the saucer, he said, “I got you something.”
“What?” Luna’s eyebrows rose.
Leaning to one side, he slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew a little paper package. He set it on the table and slid it toward her. The delicate tissue paper was held together by a circle sticker, emblazoned with the Old Bally Castle logo.
Luna glanced up at him, her gaze questioning.
When did he find the opportunity to make a purchase in that gift shop without her noticing?
At his solemn nod, she plucked up the packet, peeled back the sticker, and unfolded the paper.
Then she burst out laughing. “Oh, Mr. Grimm, what have you done?” Snatching the cardboard backing, she held aloft a pair of absolutely outrageous, shooting star earrings.
Their fake diamonds flashed and glinted in the light coming through the window, and the drifting star tails fluttered.
“I know you were disappointed about the wishing star,” Mr. Grimm said, that beautiful mouth of his breaking into an irrepressible grin even as his sad eyes continued to watch her with some trepidation.
“I thought perhaps these might be a consolation. Don’t know if you can actually wish upon them, but . . .”
“Oh, my gracious Green Mother, they are so ridiculous! I love them!” Luna laughed again, then pulled the earrings off their card and handed them to her boss. “Here, help me put them on,” she said, turning her head and pushing back her hair.
He leaned across the table, and she felt the brush of his fingertips on the sensitive skin just under her ear. The briefest, tiniest instant of contact, but it sent a jolt of stardust shooting through her veins.
He clipped the earrings to each of her lobes, and Luna sat back. Letting her hair fall back into place, she turned her head from side to side. The trailing star tails brushed the tops of her shoulders. “How do I look?” she asked. “I feel as though I must be dazzling in these. Like a film star!”
“You are indescribably lovely, Miss Talbot.”
He was joking, of course.
It was a bit of banter, part of the ongoing exaggeration of the moment.
But Luna couldn’t quite meet his gaze, because her stomach was suddenly doing loopy things, and she kind of wished she’d not eaten any of that cheesy scone.
She turned away from him and tossed her head again.
“I’ll have to wear these around the shop,” she said with a nervous giggle.
“I think you may have just unlocked a new and glamorous side of me, Mr. Grimm. We might have to roll out a red carpet down the center aisle.”
“I’ll get right on that,” he replied. “And then we’ll—”
A flash of light interrupted whatever he might have said.
Luna uttered a yelp of a surprise, blinking hard against the afterglow of magic-sparked brilliance, halfway wondering if they’d just been assaulted by some spell.
As the glare cleared from her vision, however, she turned to find a bespectacled young woman appearing from behind a box camera.
“Quick-develop thaumagraph for the lovers, available for purchase!” she grinned at them, showing an impressive set of large, square teeth. “It’ll be ready in twenty minutes, if you want to commemorate this special moment!”
Luna blinked again. “Oh,” she managed, then shook her head. “Oh, we’re not—”
“How much?” Mr. Grimm asked.
“Five crowns!” the thaumatographer chirped.
Luna watched her employer fish money from the front of his jacket and pay the young woman. “Please, bring it to the table when it’s ready,” he said.
The thaumatographer grinned again and darted away. Luna leaned over the table, frowning. “You should not have paid for something like that, Mr. Grimm. That was practically extortion! Your money would have been better spent buying out the entire kiosk of duck feed.”
“Yes, I am aware,” he said, catching her eye levelly. “But if I don’t, I fear we may go up on the Lover’s Wall.”
“What?”