“If the wishing star is real!”
“How?”
Her grin grew. “We should come back. At nightfall.”
Nigel frowned. “The park gates are shut at sundown, and there are patrolmen all over the place to keep out undesirables. No doubt they’ve got some sort of security posted around the castle as well.”
Luna’s face tightened into a little knot of thought. Which was dangerous. Nigel had known her long enough to recognize when she’d got a bee in her bonnet, and Luna Talbot was not the sort of person to leave bonneted bees well alone. Nigel kept an eye on her as they descended the turret stair and continued on with the last stretch of the tour. She was plotting something. He was quite certain of it and equally certain it would mean trouble.
He was also certain that, if she asked him, he would absolutely go along with it.
They were just taking a turn into a tunnel-like chamber which the tour guide called the “long gallery,” when suddenly, Luna reached out and grabbed Nigel’s arm. “Quick, Mr. Grimm!” she hissed. “This way!”
He didn’t have to follow, of course. How easy it would be simply to shake off her clutching hand, to give her a stern word or a look, to remind her that they weren’t children and couldn’t just pursue whatever whim took their fancy.
Instead, when she darted down a cordoned-off passage, over which a sign prominently proclaimed STAFF ONLY, he followed without a protest beyond a whispered, “What are you doing, Miss Talbot?”
“If we find a place to lay low until afterhours, we can sneak up at sundown and see about that miraculous star!”
“It’s still a good three hours until sunset,” Nigel muttered, trotting along at her heels as she rounded a bend.
“Yes, but there are no more castle tours after this one. They’ll close up soon, and we’ll have our run of the place. Surely we can find ways to amuse ourselves in the meanwhile.”
A sudden, unbidden, but entirely too-vivid image ofexactlyhow he would like to amuse himself with this woman while passing the time appeared so violently in Nigel’s head, he was obliged to stop in his tracks, blinking hard in an effort to clear it. Of course,thatwasn’t what she had in mind. Surely!
Then again, how could he possibly know what was going on in that madcap brain of hers? After all, she’d just asked him to stay behind to witness a miraculous phenomenon intended forlovers.
Nigel’s stomach knotted up on itself several times over even as she tugged on his arm and led him into another dim passage. She stopped before a rather modern-looking door with a sign above the lintel that read: OFFICE. “Ah!” she said. “Here we go.” She reached for the latch, turned it, and pushed. “Let’s see if there’s somewhere we can nip into until—”
Her voice faded away as the swinging door opened to reveal none other than the honeymooners. Wrapped in each other’s arms, right there on the office desk. They did not seem to be aware of intruders on their privacy, but went right on doing what honeymooners do best, with tremendous enthusiasm.
Luna staggered back a pace, hitting Nigel in the chest. He gripped her upper arms to steady her. “Well,” he said, “apparently we aren’t the only ones looking for a place to hide.”
“No. You’re not.”
Luna yelped at the stern voice sounding abruptly behind them, and both she and Nigel turned to face the brick-like visage of the formidable Bonnibelle. The burly tour guide scowled down at them, and Nigel couldn’t help feeling that she would bemore appropriately clad in armor and helmed for battle, like a militant ghost of the castle’s storied past.
“Go on with you,” the woman growled, swinging one arm in a commanding gesture. “If you think we don’t know to checkeverynook and cranny of this place for you young idiots, you’re as delusional as those two young idiots from the story!”
With that, she shouldered between the two of them to assault the honeymooners, who put up quite a fuss of protest as they were yanked apart. Nigel and Luna exchanged red-faced glances before darting back the way they’d come.
They found the rest of their little group at the castle exit, where their droning guide was just finishing his spiel with, “And remember, all proceeds from the gift shop go to the restoration of Old Bally Castle. Shop generously.”
Subdued, Luna followed the others through the exit into the shop, which was positioned so that tourists had no choice but to pass through it on their way out. Nigel trailed a few paces behind her and soon found himself surrounded by shelves of shot glasses, silver spoons, and random doodads, all emblazoned with the same cartoon logo of the castle. There were other bits of bric-a-brac as well, including toy knights, stuffed war horses with felt saddles, replica broadswords, some very odd-looking tin things that might, in certain lights, pass as crowns. In one corner stood a rotating wire tree of jewelry, and Luna plucked a pair of ridiculous shooting-star earrings, studded with imitation diamonds, which dangled from the lobe almost to the shoulder. “Who would wear these?” she asked, laughing as she held them to her ears. “Can you even imagine?”
She put them down and moved on to inspect a bookshelf full of history books and pseudo-historical novels set in more romantic eras of yore. Nigel watched her for half a moment to make certain she was distracted before darting to the sales counter to make a swift purchase. Tucking a small paper packageinto his pocket, he moved to join her again just as she slid a dry-looking tome on the Kings and Queens of Brython back onto the shelf.
“I suppose we might as well go,” Luna said, looking up at him as he approached. Disappointment shimmered in her eyes.
“Perhaps a stop in the café?” Nigel suggested.
The sad line of her mouth melted into a little half-smile. “All right.”
She followed him out of the shop and into the late-afternoon sunlight. As he led the way down the path toward the moat house, she turned, however, and looked back up at the picturesque Lover’s Tower. “I suppose it’s just as well they kicked us out,” she said. “It’s not like we could actuallyusethat wish. After all, it’s only for lovers.”
And though he knew it was silly, though he knew there was no reason for it whatsoever, and it wasn’t even worth noticing . . . Nigel’s heart sank.
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.
