Chapter 14 #2
Luna’s mouth dropped open. In all her life, back in the sleepy little town of Greater Snoring, not once had she encountered a man of such impressive physical proportions. But in that moment, the glory of his person wasn’t her first concern.
She exchanged a look with Mr. Grimm. Mr. Grimm’s gaze flashed down to her wrist, and Luna hastily put both hands behind her back. “I’ll um . . . I’ll handle this, shall I?” she said.
“Miss Talbot, wait—” Mr. Grimm began.
But she was already stepping out from behind the counter and hastening between the potted hydrangeas. “May I help you with anything, sir?” she asked brightly, determined to keep any quaver from her voice.
The wardsman turned from inspecting the double-delight rose, his mouth open to speak.
He stopped, however. And his gaze ran swiftly down Luna’s figure then back up again.
His eyebrows rose in mute surprise. It was such an obviously admiring gaze, and Luna couldn’t help the pleasant flush of warmth flooding her cheeks.
She’d been looked at before, of course. But never by so extraordinary a specimen of manhood.
“Good morning, miss,” the wardsman said and, reaching into the front of his jacket, withdrew a badge, which he flashed her way: two swords, crossed over a rather bug-eyed seagull, the emblem of the local law enforcement. “Officer Ward. I’m with the Ballycastle SSSD.”
“SSSD?” Luna echoed.
“Special Sorcery Suppression Department.”
That pleasant flush vanished, replaced by a knot of tension in Luna’s gut. She kept her voice cool, even as the fingers of her right hand squeezed her left wrist a little tighter. “Oh? And has there been any sorcerous activity on Addle Street?”
“None of which I’m aware,” the wardsman answered with a grin which might, under other circumstances, have made her toes feel funny. “Unless you know of something worth reporting?”
Luna shook her head.
“Glad to hear it.” The wardsman cast his eyes over the shop once more.
“I’ve been on the tail of an elusive magical practitioner, who’s been dealing in enchanted face creams. It was all innocent enough at first—blemish corrections and so forth.
But it’s gone far beyond that, and now we’re having instances of face-swapping and impersonations. ”
“Goodness!” Luna exclaimed.
“Wickedness, you mean.” Officer Ward winked, then schooled his face into sterner lines. “Dark sorcery of the blackest nature, you know. But you needn’t fear! The SSSD is on the lookout and will protect Ballycastle at whatever cost.”
Luna chewed her lips and swallowed. She’d not had the money to indulge in even ordinary face creams for months, much less anything black market.
But thoughts of that enchanted shampoo upstairs in Mr. Grimm’s bathroom flashed through her brain.
Was there a chance he could be mixed up in this somehow?
“Um, and what could that possibly have to do with um, this flower shop?” she asked, hoping Officer Ward couldn’t hear how her heart pounded in her ears.
“The key ingredient to the cream in question is fayfane blossoms,” Officer Ward replied. “A magic-infused flower, sourced directly from Fairyland. Someone’s been supplying this sorcerer, and I’m trying to figure out who.”
“Oh. I see.” Luna glanced around the shop again.
Despite the magical influence in the atmosphere, she’d not seen any overtly enchanted flowers.
She cast a look toward Mr. Grimm, but he was once more pretending to be very busy with his logbooks at the counter and wouldn’t catch her eye.
“Well,” Luna said, facing the wardsman again, “you’re welcome to have a look around the shop.
We only just opened a few days ago, and we certainly haven’t sold any magical blooms.”
“Thank you, miss.” Officer Ward offered a polite nod. “I’ll have a looksee regardless.”
With that he strolled down the aisle. Luna couldn’t help wondering if he seemed so enormous simply because of the confines of the shop, or if he would appear equally gigantic out in the street.
He moved gracefully, however, for a man of his size.
The dahlias sighed a little louder as he passed, and she could almost swear she heard the tiger lilies purring, actually purring. The little traitors.
She looked Mr. Grimm’s way again, finally meeting his gaze. She shrugged and made a face, which he answered only with a short shake of his head and a gesture she didn’t understand at all. Was he hiding something? Were they on the verge of being—what was the word for it?—busted?
Squeezing her fists tight, she turned, only to catch the wardsman looking at her closely from between bunches of forsythia.
He smiled, showing a lot of strong, white teeth.
She answered with a nervous smile of her own, checking to make certain her cuff was properly pulled down.
Moving to the counter, she leaned over and whispered from the corner of her mouth, “Mr. Grimm, is there anything I ought to be worried about?”
“Certainly not, Miss Talbot,” he replied, turning the page of his book.
Luna didn’t believe him.
Determined not to watch the wardsman, she slipped back into the nook and fished the teabags from the mugs.
The tea was rather over-brewed, she feared, but not so badly as it had been yesterday.
Keenly aware of Officer Ward’s presence, she returned to the kitchen, fetched the milk, and added splashes to each mug.
She set one mug close to Mr. Grimm’s book and gripped the other with both hands, raising it to her lips several times, but never quite managing to take a sip.
“Everything looks right enough,” Officer Ward said suddenly, approaching the counter.
Luna gave a little jump and set down her mug with a bang as she turned a bright smile the wardsman’s way. “Did you find all to your satisfaction, officer?”
“Why yes,” he replied. “No sign of fayfane anywhere, nor any other suspicious flowers. It’s quite a nice place you have here.”
“Thank you,” Luna replied, as Mr. Grimm did not seem inclined to answer.
“Yes, indeed,” the officer nodded, pursing his lips as he cast another look around.
“Glad to know it’s here, actually. A fellow never knows when he’ll need to nip around the corner and buy a couple of long-stems for his girl.
Speaking of . . .” He set a bunch of frilly pink carnations on the counter.
“I’d like to purchase these while I’m here, if it’s all the same to you. ”
Mr. Grimm stepped forward, not meeting the officer’s eye as he murmured, “That’ll be two crowns.”
The wardsman fished the payment from his pocket and dropped it in Mr. Grimm’s hand. “Would you like them wrapped?” Mr. Grimm asked.
“No, thank you,” Officer Ward said and swiped up his purchase. Then he turned and held them out to Luna.
Luna blinked, surprised. “Oh,” she said, reaching tentatively for them. “Do you . . . do you need some ribbon?”
“No,” the wardsman answered with a grin. “I need you to take them.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because a pretty lady like you deserves to be given flowers now and then.”
Heat positively roared up Luna’s cheeks. “My gracious!” she gasped, and hated herself for sounding both completely prudish and painfully provincial, but also uncertain what else she possibly could say under the circumstances. “I, um . . . why, thank you, officer.”
The wardsman offered a neat little half-bow. Then, with a nod to Mr. Grimm he said, “Congrats on the new place. Just what Eastside needs, I’m thinking. But I can’t have you dealing in fayfane, got it?”
Without waiting for a response, he strode down the aisle and out the door, bells pealing behind him. Luna watched through the window as he set his cap on his head, straightened his majestic shoulders, then disappeared up the street. Like a dream, come and gone.
She stared after him. Then down at the carnations in her hands.
Her romance-starved life back in Crimble could not have conceived of such a gallant gesture!
It was like something right out of one of Auntie Arabella’s trashy novels, though there would have been rather more bosom-heaving and bodice-rending between those pages.
Her bodice was still neatly intact, she was relieved to note, though her bosom definitely felt a bit more heavish than usual.
“Well!” she exclaimed, turning the flowers around in her fingers. “Well, I suppose . . . I suppose that makes three sales now. But, Green Mother bless me, what am I supposed to do with these?”
She glanced at Mr. Grimm, half-expecting him to offer a solution. He, however, was not looking at her. He appeared to be very busy suddenly, organizing the debris behind the counter.
Luna frowned a little and firmed her resolve. “Mr. Grimm,” she said, “are there any magical flowers in the shop which I should know about?”
He glanced sidelong up at her. “No, Miss Talbot.”
“But you do use magic to source them. Don’t you? And to keep them fresh.”
He hesitated. “Maybe.”
Luna heaved a sigh. “Please, Mr. Grimm. If I am to work here, I really must know what exactly I’m getting myself into.
” She held up her wrist, allowing the cuff to slide back and reveal the ugly heptagram mark.
“I can’t afford to get into any trouble with the law.
You know if someone like me gets mixed up with even a hint of sorcery, it could mean absolute disaster. ”
Mr. Grimm finally faced her. His expression was closed but . . . considering. As though he had a number of intricate calculations to run before he dared speak. Luna waited patiently, not allowing the awkwardness of silence to shift her.
“Very well, Miss Talbot,” he said at last, coming to a hard-won conclusion.
Then he stepped out from behind the counter, marched across the shop, and firmly shut and locked the door, flipping the sign to CLOSED.
This accomplished, he turned around, rubbed his thin hands together, and nodded.
“The time has come, I believe, to introduce you to Garden.”