But Luna couldn’t quite meet his gaze, because her stomach was suddenly doing loopy things, and she kind of wished she’d not eaten any of that cheesy scone. She turned away from him and tossed her head again. “I’ll have to wear these around the shop,” she said with a nervous giggle. “I think you may have just unlocked a new and glamorous side of me, Mr. Grimm. We might have to roll out a red carpet down the center aisle.”
“I’ll get right on that,” he replied. “And then we’ll—”
A flash of light interrupted whatever he might have said. Luna uttered a yelp of a surprise, blinking hard against the afterglow of magic-sparked brilliance, halfway wondering if they’d just been assaulted by some spell. As the glare cleared from her vision, however, she turned to find a bespectacled young woman appearing from behind a box camera.
“Quick-develop thaumagraph for the lovers, available for purchase!” she grinned at them, showing an impressive set of large, square teeth. “It’ll be ready in twenty minutes, if you want to commemorate this special moment!”
Luna blinked again. “Oh,” she managed, then shook her head. “Oh, we’re not—”
“How much?” Mr. Grimm asked.
“Five crowns!” the thaumatographer chirped.
Luna watched her employer fish money from the front of his jacket and pay the young woman. “Please, bring it to the table when it’s ready,” he said.
The thaumatographer grinned again and darted away. Luna leaned over the table, frowning. “You should not have paid for something like that, Mr. Grimm. That was practically extortion! Your money would have been better spent buying out the entire kiosk of duck feed.”
“Yes, I am aware,” he said, catching her eye levelly. “But if I don’t, I fear we may go up on the Lover’s Wall.”
“What?”
He pointed over her shoulder. Luna turned to see the wall behind her absolutely full of black-and-white images of couples seated around the café. Most of them boasted expressions of surprise and mild shock. Luna pursed her lips.
“I figured you might prefer not to have your face commemorated in a public place like this,” Mr. Grimm said.
He was right; she definitely would prefer not to. She couldn’t afford to have any visual record of her presence here in Ballycastle. Not that she expected someone the likes of Lancelot Mortimer to stroll into the Moat House Café and study the Lover’s Wall, but . . . she also didn’t know that he wouldn’t. It simply wasn’t a good idea to have her likeness floating about. Not when the Plymian government already had her picture on file.
“Right,” she said. “Good thinking, Mr. Grimm.”
They were silent for a moment, both of them suddenly very interested in tea and scones, and the lovely, comforting vibe between them may have begun to fade at last. Of course, Luna reminded herself, it couldn’t go on forever. She’d been lucky to have these last few hours with him. So many lovely moments to look back upon in the coming years, when she was far away in places as yet unimagined.
Suddenly, Mr. Grimm set his cup down in its saucer. “I think you should have your wishing star moment, Miss Talbot.”
“What?” Luna lifted her gaze sharply to his. There was a look of keen calculation in his eye that was almost frightening.
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you trust me?”
She hesitated. “Mostly.”
“Then will you let me get you up that tower by sunset?”
Luna chewed the inside of her cheek. She leaned over the table and whispered, “Does it involve sorcery?”
He shook his head. “Whatever sorcery may or may not be involved was worked well over a hundred years ago and is quite settled magic by now. It’s safe.”
Luna narrowed her eyes. Old sorcery or new sorcery, she didn’t care for the stuff. Still, she wasn’t ready to let this day end quite yet. If there was any chance whatever her employer had in mind might prolong their time together, then . . . “All right,” she said, and nodded. The shimmering tails of shooting stars clattered against her shoulders. “What do you have in mind, Mr. Grimm?”
He slid out of his seat, making a gesture with one hand. “Wait here. Right here, in this exact spot. I’ll be about forty minutes.”
She blinked. “Forty minutes?”
“Yes. I must retrieve something. From home.”
She frowned, tilting her head to one side. “What in the world are you plotting?”
His mouth creased in a grin that made her heart spin in place. “Wait and see. Forty minutes, Miss Talbot. Have another tea on me in the meanwhile.”
With that, he slipped away, abandoning her and the uneaten raspberry scone as he darted out from the Moat House Café. Luna turned her head to watch out the window, catching sight of him a few minutes later as he appeared on the path below. As though aware of her gaze, he turned and waved up at the window. She doubted he could see her, but she smiled and waved back just in case. Then she sipped the cooled remains of her tea and picked at the scone.
