Page 22 of Christmas Magic

“We’ll try again tomorrow.” Ignoring a pang of unease, he took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed the backs of her fingers. “Now, milady. I have a promise to fulfill.”

“Are there any more Christmas boxes in storage?” Molly asked the next morning.

In the midst of wiping down the glass of the shop’s front door, Lucian glanced at her. “There might be. Why?”

She gestured to the saltshaker, still on the counter from yesterday, along with serving dishes and other kitchen ceramics. “I unwrapped all of the items in the boxes but didn’t find the matching pepper shaker.”

Lucian crossed to her and stowed the glass spray and cloth under the counter. “Maybe the pepper shaker got broken.”

“I hope not. I’m going to hang onto the saltshaker for the time being in case its mate turns up.” She put it on the shelf under the counter, picked up one of the empty boxes filled with newspaper and then headed to the dining table. The woman who’d bought the Christmas china would be arriving in half an hour, and Molly wanted to have the purchase packed.

“I’ll help you.” Lucian brought over a box.

“Thanks. By the way, you and I have a date Wednesday evening.”

Lucian’s brows rose. “We do?”

“Yes. The craft fair.”

“I remember now.” He picked up a dinner plate and wrapped newspaper around it. “As you know, I’m not all that fond of craft fairs. But, if it means a romantic evening with you, I will go.”

Moving closer to him, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips. “I am so lucky to be marrying you.”

His mouth curving into a roguish smile, he kissed her back. “I’m even luckier to be marrying you.”

“Aww,” Daisy mewled from the Victorian chaise longue, where she lay curled up with Petunia, Rose, and Marigold.

Lying on the nearby rug, the squire covered his eyes with his paw. “Not more mushy stuff.”

“Yep, more mushy stuff.” Molly chuckled. “You’d think you would be used to it by now.”

Lucian put the wrapped plate in the box and picked up another. “By the way, Galahad, did you tell Molly about the cat you sensed?”

“Cat?” she inquired.

“In the parking lot.” The fluffy feline growled. “If I still smell it there, I’m going to issue a challenge. As I told Lucian, I have my territory and my damsels to defend.”

“I expect it’s a stray and has moved on,” Lucian added. “So, there will be no need for feline fisticuffs.”

Molly set a wrapped cup and saucer in the box nearest to her. “Well, if you sense the cat again, Galahad, don’t be mean, okay? It’s the holiday season. It’s a time to be kind—”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The bell on the front door jingled.

“Ah. I spoke with this couple yesterday.” Lucian stepped away from the table. “With luck, we’ve sold the walnut end tables.”

Wednesday afternoon, Dennis strolled into Calico Court. The craft fair wasn’t due to start for a couple of hours, but that suited his ambitions perfectly.

Vendors, chatting with one another, were setting up tables and covering them with red and green cloths. Some of the craftspeople had elaborate displays. For his purposes, though, he only needed a bit of space on one specific table.

Dennis paused by the bubbling fountain, its waters stirred by the light breeze, and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. As his fingers closed around the vial, anticipation raced through him.

The bespectacled Dark Archivist handed Dennis the small glass container. “I made them exactly as you specified in your written request.”

“Good.”

The man wiped sweat from his forehead. “As I told our superiors, I can’t say for sure what the magic will do to Lord. The spell isn’t like anything I’ve seen in the archives.”