“Don’t you see?” Luna’s hands trembled as she held the blossoms under his nose. “The violets must have talked the rest of the bouquet into hiding them. They’re so shy, and peonies can be very protective, you know.”
She hadn’t put violets in any of the bridesmaid’s bouquets, only Miss Eugenia’s. And when she’d packed up the large box containing the stunning, handheld arrangements, she had made certain that Miss Eugenia’s far larger, more splendid display was right in the center. But she’d not stopped to do a headcount when they’d stopped by Saint Agatha’s Cathedral early this morning to drop off bouquets and boutonnieres and to decorate the nave. Why would she? One doesn’t expect one’s bouquets to skip out on the job!
Just in that moment, singing out from the distance above the sounds of street traffic and filtering down into the covered garage at the back of the hotel, the bells of Saint Agatha’s rang out the hour: 1 o’clock.
“We can still get them to her,” Mr. Grimm said reassuringly. “It’s not that far. What time does the wedding start?”
“Now, Mr. Grimm. The wedding startsnow.”Luna shook her head, staring down at the violets in her hands. “Oh, Mrs. Lambert is going toskewerus! She’ll leave a review in theBally Daily.She’ll have us blackballed from all High Society events from now until kingdom come!”
The worried lines of her employer’s brow melted away, reforming his face into a hard, serious visage. His eyes flashed, and his jaw hardened into a granite edge. “Get in the front, Miss Talbot, and buckle your seatbelt,” he said in a voice of authority. “We are going to crash that wedding.”
“What’s the use?” Luna cried, despairing. “It’s already begun! Miss Eugenia’s got to be halfway up the aisle!”
But Mr. Grimm caught her eye. For a moment, Luna halfway thought she saw a glimpse of onyx in the depths of his pupils. “In a situation like this, there is only one solution to be had,” he said.
“What? What solution? What are you talking about?”
His teeth flashed in a dangerous grimace. “Sorcery.”
“No, Mr. Grimm!”
The protest burst from her lips with such force, it almost made Nigel take a step back. He stood his ground, however, even as Luna scrambled out from the back of the van. On impulse, he extended a hand to assist her, but she didn’t seem to see it. She hopped down from the bumper, catching her balance, cradling violets against the front of her green apron. Tossing messy pin-curls back from her forehead, she stared up at him with a furious expression. “I willnotgive you leave to work sorcery!” she declared. “Whatever it is you have in mind, it’smuchtoo dangerous. We’re in the middle of Northside! There are wardsmeneverywhere!”
Nigel resisted the urge to reach out and smooth another bobbing curl from her forehead. Instead, he crossed his arms over his breast. “How do you suggest we solve this little problem then?”
“Notwith sorcery!” Luna shook her head violently. “Seriously, what is wrong with you sorcerers, immediately jumping to dark magic the minute things get a bit messy?”
“So, you’d rather deal with the ramifications of Mrs. Lambert’s forthcoming review in theBally Daily?”He lifted an eyebrow. “You spent more time with that woman than I did over these last two weeks. Did she strike you as the sort of person who will give credit foreffort?”
Luna opened her mouth, but paused. Shut it again. “We can weather it,” she muttered, her jaw stiff. “We’ve gotten by without big commissions up until now.”
Nigel’s other eyebrow shot up to join the first. His shop assistant was not the one in charge of balancing the books, after all. She didn’t know how touch-and-go business was from week to week. If it weren’t for the fact that he sourced all his stock free of charge, thanks to Garden’s generosity, they would be in a bit of a pickle. Regular commissions like this one would make a big difference.
Luna searched his gaze, reading into his silence but still resistant. Her dark eyes sparked with the intensity of her hatred for all things sorcerous. And it wasn’t as though Nigel could blame her. Not after all the ways her life had been torn apart by sorcerers these last few years. It was a wonder she could stand to remain in his presence at all. Then again, he had never met a will quite like Luna Talbot’s. For all her delicacy, there was iron at her core.
But she wasn’t the only one with a stubborn streak.
Nigel reached underneath his work apron to his trouser pocket, withdrawing a handkerchief. Luna watched the slight movement sharply, her brows lifting in some alarm. He saw the moment when awareness came over her, a sense of Dire Matter in the atmosphere, which only someone of highly-attuned sorcerous perception should be able to notice.
Luna’s perceptions were intense, despite her ignorance of anything to do with sorcery. Her eyes widened, the whites surrounding her irises. “What is that?” she demanded.
“It is Dire Matter, Miss Talbot.”
“Yes, I know that. But I don’t understand . . .”
Silently, Nigel held out his hand, offering the handkerchief to her. For a moment, she recoiled, her lip curling in an expression of disgust. Then, with a brief flick of her gaze to his, she shifted the violets into one hand, holding them protectively off to one side. She did not take the handkerchief from him, merely pinched a corner between forefinger and thumb and gingerly pulled it back, revealing three dark spots on the white cloth. A gasp escaped her parted lips. The stink of Dire Matter in the atmosphere intensified.
Ever since his near-disastrous encounter with Calista Anguish, Nigel had taken to carrying droplets of Dire Matter with him everywhere he went. Just in case. He didn’t use them. In fact, he’d been carrying these same three drops for weeks now. But he had no intention of being caught unprepared again.
“Youswore,” Luna breathed, her gaze flashing to meet his again. Her voice scarcely rose above a whisper and yet simmered with feeling. “You swore the Sovereign Troth! No sorcery withoutmypermission, so long as I remain in Ballycastle.”
Nigel cleared his throat softly. “Thespecificsof the vow are that I can make no transference of energy from this world to the next without your command or approval. Nofreshsorcery, as it were.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Right.”
“This”—he gestured with his chin at the dark spots on the white cloth—“isdistilledDire Matter. The transference required for its formation was performed many years ago. And not by me.”
Luna stared at him. Hard.
