The New Marquess (Wardington Park) (A Regency Romance Book)

His words flooded through her veins like shimmering light and then all at once everything inside her went silent. A pleasant peace like none she’d felt before rested over her. She was still as she stared into his eyes then felt her own fill with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but only his name was on her lips. “Morgan,” she whispered.

He bent forward and kissed her again, then wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

She didn’t know how long they stood there, kissing as her heart melted, but she knew that when he left, he took all her reservations with him.

The thought of marrying him now not only felt good, but right in every way.

Especially when she considered the fact that she loved him.



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22





CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO



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They know of you, because you have my heart.…





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Mr. Lewis’ shop was busy when they entered, and Morgan was astonished as he glimpsed the detail of the work around him. Though the tailor was known to make uniforms, it was clear he took great pride in his clothes. Morgan had never cared to study the detail of a footman’s suit, unless he’d found the cut unsuitable for the butler or footman who’d put it on. For the most part, servants were to blend into the backdrop of everyday life, and Morgan supposed if one was wearing a nice suit, then he managed to give the room that much more class.



“My servants will be shopping here in the future,” Simon said. He was standing by a display of jackets, all black, but with different details that would set one house apart from another. Different sets of suggested buttons lay by waistcoats and ties.

“It is impressive,” Morgan said. “He should have more recognition. I’m certain that if you and I don’t know about him yet, there are many others who still don’t.”

“A catalogue would serve him well,” Simon said.

Morgan and Simon shared a look.

“I said it first,” Simon said.

“I set your mind on the path,” Morgan countered.

Simon’s lips twitched, and he glanced around and lowered his voice before he said, “If he’s not working for Creed, we partner in his endeavor.”

Morgan and Simon shook hands. Then Morgan looked around and saw the store with different eyes. An investor’s eyes. The shop was busy. There were a few wealthy men, women, and couples about and even a few servants who carried purchases in and out the door. The store was small but detailed with the same precision as Mr. Lewis’ clothes.

“He’d make more money working on Bond Street,” Simon suggested. “Most of the titled families wouldn’t dare travel so close to Seven Dials.”

Seven Dials was the north area of Covent Garden where the brothels lay. Mr. Lewis’ shop was only a few blocks south.

They heard laughter and watched as a handsome young man emerged from behind a curtain, standing by a footman who was wearing one of Mr. Lewis’ designs.

A couple moved forward, and the wife was all a flutter. “Oh, Mr. Lewis, you’ve amazed us once again. Owen looks wonderful.”

Owen, the footman in question, did a turn so that his patrons could see the rest of him. Everywhere the eye hit showed sharp eye and steady hands.

The young man who’d come with the footman said, “Your praise is well appreciated.”

Morgan took Mr. Lewis in. He had dark hair, blue eyes, and wore a smile that Morgan was sure turned more than one head.

“Interesting,” Simon whispered. “How do you think he came to have this store?”

Morgan hoped it wasn’t Creed because if it was, then Morgan would take no pains in destroying him.

They moved toward Mr. Lewis once the couple and their footman left, and Lewis smiled at their approach.

“Hello, sirs. Welcome to my shop. I’m Mr. Lewis. What can I do for you?”

“I’m Simon St. Clair and this is Lord Durham.”

Lewis’ eyes widened. He quickly bowed before straightening. “My lords,” he said in wonder and it became apparent that while some wealthy patrons used his shop, the titled had yet to approach him. Morgan put his thoughts of money and ventures to the side and focused on the reason they’d come.

“This is a fine establishment you have,” Morgan said. “And for someone so young, your work shows talent well beyond your years.”

Lewis’ cheeks colored, and he momentarily looked away before returning his gaze to Morgan and straightening his back. His chest rose a little. “Thank you, sir.”

Simon looked at Morgan and placed a hand under his chin as though in deep thought. “One walk around the room and I’m thinking of redesigning my entire house’s staff. What say you, Durham?”

“Oh, yes. And with my coming nuptials, I’m sure half of Society is going to wish me to host a party or two. Then they’ll all wonder who dressed my staff.” Morgan looked at Lewis and found the man to be staring at them with his mouth slightly apart. Morgan had to catch himself from laughing.

“I’m impressed,” Simon said to Lewis. “I want to talk business, but first you must tell me how a man your age comes into all this.” Simon lifted his hands toward the room.

Some of the light left Lewis’ eyes, and he straightened further before saying, “I am fortunate to have very good friends.” He smiled. “Now, allow me to show you my latest work. It has not been seen by anyone’s eyes as of yet.” He motioned for the men to proceed him into the back.

Simon looked and Morgan.

His friend could be Creed.

This could be a trap.

Morgan nodded nonetheless, and Simon preceded him before he went behind the dark curtained area as well.

They found themselves in a fitting room with exposed dark wood and a mirrored wall. Two plush wing-backed chairs and a small table made the room feel like a gentleman’s cabinet.

Lewis said, “Have a seat. I’ll return momentarily.” Then he left through a door on the other side.

Morgan and Simon remained standing, grabbing their guns but keeping them hidden. If Lewis were to return with thugs, Morgan and Simon would be prepared to fight.

They both turned as Lewis returned to the room carrying a few sheets of papers. He looked surprised to find that the men hadn’t sat down but came forward nonetheless and held out the two sheets for the men to examine. The sheets displayed footmen dressed in pristine dark gray suits with black detail. The waistcoat, shirt, and tie were different, however, and they were beautiful.

“I often thought black too harsh in most rooms,” Lewis said. “The color makes the servant stand out amongst more lively colors, clashing terribly. So, I’ve begun to play with grays and dark blues, still dark enough for one to think it black, but against yellows and pinks, the color shows. What do you think?”

Simon looked at Morgan and nodded before moving toward Lewis and slightly to the side. “This is most impressive and revolutionary.”.

Lewis followed Simon, and Morgan had a moment to put his gun away before moving to Lewis’ other side. “Who drew the details? Is that another talent of yours?”

His question distracted Lewis and gave Simon a chance to put his own gun away.

Lewis smiled. “No, my mother did it.”

“Your mother works for you?” Simon asked.

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