Chapter 11 #3
Luna gaped into his sparkling green eyes.
For just an instant, in the depths of his black pupils, she glimpsed again a vision she’d scried in his teacup last autumn.
She’d seen a glorious ballroom, festooned with flowers, and Ward in his dress uniform, dancing with .
. . well, with some future version of herself, in fact.
Clad in a gown of such rare and exquisite beauty, beyond anything she’d ever observed in cinema or magazines.
She blinked. And in that moment of closed eyelids, she felt so painfully aware of Mr. Grimm’s presence close to her elbow. Oh, why did he have to be here for this? Why had she begged him to stay?
“Ward,” she said slowly, opening her eyes and looking up at the handsome officer once more. “I . . . I can’t go with you, you know.”
“What?” Ward blinked, surprised. “Why not? Dames love this sort of thing, don’t they?”
A low growl sounded somewhere to her left.
Luna cleared her throat loudly and pushed the tickets back Ward’s way.
“I don’t have a dress,” she said. Which was true enough.
She certainly didn’t have a dress anything like the one from her vision—that glorious confection of pink and yellow and multi-layered skirts.
No one had a dress like that. Not even the Queen of Brython herself!
“That’s all right,” Ward answered with an easy grin. “Buy one.”
“I can’t afford a ballgown!”
“Borrow one from your roommate then.”
“Bryony is not the ballgown-owning type. None of the girls at the boardinghouse are.”
“You could rent one. Or, better yet, let me rent it for you.”
Luna shook her head vehemently. “That doesn’t feel right, somehow. That you should pay to dress your date.”
Ward shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
“I do!”
“All right, fine. What about that little green number you wore to The King’s Crown? You looked great in that.”
“It’s not a ballgown, Ward. I would be dismally underdressed.”
“Who cares?”
“Me!”
“Look, Luna.” The wardsman leaned heavily on the counter, his brow settled in a sterner line than she had yet seen that day. “This is a big deal for me. A big step in my career. I want you there. With me.” He shook his head, and that dark curl bobbed winsomely. “Haven’t I proven myself to you yet?”
Luna bit her lip and looked away. He was talking about the earring. She knew it. The fact that he’d handed it over to her, protecting her from further investigation, from outright arrest even. She owed him. Owed him big time.
And what would happen if she turned him down flat? She didn’t want to believe Ward would arrest her after all. Surely he was too much of a gentleman for that! But she also couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t. And she was so close to getting out, so close . . .
“All right,” she whispered, dropping her lashes and studying the woodgrain on the countertop in front of her. “I’ll . . . I’ll ring up Myrna and see if I can borrow her gown. If she’s all right with it, I’ll go with you.” She forced another smile. “Deal?”
“Deal!” he answered at once, dimples returning in full radiance. “Shall I pick you up outside Huck ‘n Clovers, then?”
“No!” Luna answered hastily. The idea of being out on the city streets made her far too uneasy.
Even if the SSSD had successfully rounded up Lancelot Mortimer last night, that didn’t mean others of his ilk weren’t abroad and sniffing around for her.
If she had her way, she wouldn’t leave the shop at all, not until it was time to head to the station.
“Pick me up here,” she said, the words bursting impulsively from her lips. She regretted them almost at once, particularly when, from the tail of her eye, she saw Mr. Grimm look at her sharply. But she stood her ground and met Ward’s gaze.
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Here?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Here, Ward.”
“If you say so.” He tipped his head. “Six o’clock, got it? Make sure you’re ready for me.”
“I will be.”
Then, before she could react, he leaned far over the counter, grabbed the back of her head, and pulled her into a big, sloppy kiss.
Luna’s heart plummeted. She found herself hardly able to concentrate on the sensation of large, wet lips smashed against hers, far more aware of Mr. Grimm’s presence beside her.
Using the counter for leverage, she yanked back and popped the suction between them. “Ward!” she gasped, unable to hide her distress.
He answered with a roguish wink. “Tonight, Luna Talbot. It’s happening at last. You’re going to fall in love with me once and for all, do you hear?”
Painfully conscious of the fact that Mr. Grimm had stepped over into the nook and drawn the curtain, Luna dropped her gaze.
She hoped Ward would interpret the pallor in her cheeks as shyness.
“We’ll see,” she managed. Not quite an agreement, but Ward didn’t seem to care.
He pivoted on heel and strolled back up the shop aisle, whistling as he went.
The familiar strains of “A Rose in the Rain” drifted back to her, momentarily blending with the tinkle of shop bells.
Then he was gone.