“Mr. Grimm,” she tried again, “about that . . . um . . .”
He bent abruptly and picked up two glass vases from the floor. “I was wondering, Miss Talbot,” he said, turning the vasesaround in his hands, studying the way the light caught on their curved surfaces, “if you might answer a question that’s been much on my mind lately.”
Her stupid stomach performed another dip and flop. “Yes?”
“It’s about your roommate. Miss Braithwait.”
Luna blinked. Her lips parted silently. “Bryony?” She swallowed and tried again. “You mean Bryony?”
“Yes. Bryony.” He cleared his throat. “She, erm, made an impression on me. At the Saint Jollify Fair, you know. I was wondering if you knew whether or not she’s seeing someone?”
Luna refused to break his gaze. Refused. Utterly. She held that look with everything she had in her, like she was holding the shield wall, and one small chink would let the enemy hordes through for slaughter.
Briefly—so very briefly, it hardly counted—she considered telling Mr. Grimm that Bryony wasn’t seeing someone, because she had a steady stream of various someoneswhom she saw on rotation. Most of whom didn’t know anything about each other. Which added to the fun, according to Bryony. But Luna didn’t want to be catty.
She swallowed again. Her throat was feeling rougher by the moment. “I don’t believe she’s stepping out with anyone in particular these days, no.”
“Ah.”
“You should, um. You should call on her sometime.”
“Telephone?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t. Mrs. Boggs charges extra for phone calls. Best to, um, call at the house. Directly.”
“Have you the address?”
“Well, yes. She’s my roommate, you know.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“I’ll . . . write it down for you, shall I? Before I leave today?”
“That would be very helpful. Thank you.”
“Good. Um. Happy to help.”
At long last, she blinked. Turned. Took a step away from the door.
“Miss Talbot?”
Her stupid stomach popped back up one last time to perform a dangerous triple axel. “Yes?”
“You can leave early if you like. To prepare for your date.”
“Oh!” Her hand shot out, gripped the doorframe for support. “Um. There’s usually a last wave of tea-drinkers, you know. Around four o’clock.”
“No worries. I’ll post the NO TEA SERVICE sign in the window. And I’ll pay your wage for the full day of course.”
“I didn’t mean . . . That is to say . . .” She stopped and bit her lips again. Then: “Thank you, Mr. Grimm. That’s very generous.”
“Have a good time, Miss Talbot. On your date.”
“Yes, I . . . I will. And you, um . . . I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Grimm.”
He nodded.
And Luna made her escape.
