.
Morgan breathed through his anger with every step as he started for the sitting room where he knew his friends awaited word on Mena’s condition. The men had been through enough that they were more like brothers and stood by one another through everything. He was going to need them now more than ever if he wished to keep his fiancée safe, just as he’d helped each of them with the women who were now their wives.
While he had no reason to believe Creed was behind what was happening, especially considering that the most current knifing had been before Mena’s own eyes. He was sure that nothing happened in London without that man’s say so.
That being said, he had to be stopped.
He’d reached the first floor when he decided Mena could use a calming tea to settle her to sleep. Not seeing a servant nearby, he started down the hall that led to the kitchen and servants’ quarters. Mena’s house was not very large, which explained the lack of servants simply rushing down the halls. At most, they knew she kept on five staff members. A cook, a scullery maid, her lady’s maid, a footman, and her driver. Seeing none of them, he followed the sound of low humming and went into the kitchen to find the footman and cook.
The footman sat at the table with a paper in hand as he hummed.
The cook was over at the stove, her back to him.
He opened his mouth to call her but stopped at the recognition of the tune. He stared at the footman and listened as the notes from “I’d Marry Him Tomorrow” were pushed from his throat.
The cook spoke over her shoulder, her face reddened from either the heat of the stove or her anger. “Harry, for the last time, stop humming that song!”
Harry pulled a grin. “Your pardon. I wouldn’t have started again if one of Lady Philomena’s guests weren’t humming it in the sitting room.”
Morgan knew exactly which one of Mena’s guests was humming. Warren. And he, too, was probably unaware that he was doing so. He claimed it was stuck in his head, and Morgan admitted that he’d found himself thinking about the words himself, if only hoping that Mena would tell him similar words.
Maybe the footman was connected to Creed.
But why would Creed have spies within his ward’s home?
Morgan balled his fist and started toward the man but caught himself before he placed his hands on him. If he was wrong, he didn’t want Mena to find out he’d hurt one of her servants. Hearing such news would not gain him any favor in her eyes.
He placed his hand on the table and the footman became alert and began to stand. Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder to put him back down. “No need to rise.” He tried for a smile. “I simply have a question to ask.”
The footman had dark hair and light brown eyes. Harry glanced quickly at the cook and then returned to him. “What can I do for you, my lord?”
Good. The man knew who he was. He’d use his authority to gain what he wished. There was always the chance that he would lose his position once Mena married. “Where did you hear that tune, Harry?”
Harry frowned. “The tailor.”
Morgan lifted a brow. “The tailor?”
Harry nodded. “We all use the same tailor, my lord. Every male on staff, sir.”
“What tailor?” Morgan asked. “What’s his name?”
Harry visibly swallowed. “Mr. Lewis.”
“Where does he work?”
The young man gave him an address close to Covent Garden. “He usually makes uniforms, my lord. I could recommend some great tailors for men such as yourself. I’ve worked for lords before.” He glanced at Morgan’s chest before lifting his eyes again.
Morgan looked down at himself and realized he’d left the house without grabbing his jacket. His fear for Mena had closed any thought that didn’t surround her. He chuckled. “No, that’s all right. When did you first hear the tune?”
Harry shrugged. “A week ago, I suppose. My tailor told me he was making costumes for a play.”
The tailor. Morgan hadn’t thought to look at employees of the theatre that didn’t actually work there and was sure the others hadn’t thought of it either.
Finally, they had something to go on.
He told Harry to prepare him and Ralph a room and to get a maid to take Mena tea and then went to speak to the other men.
Simon was standing by the window when he entered and spoke first. “How is she?”
Morgan sat in a chair close to the couch that Warren and Lucas occupied. “As one can expect after seeing a man die.” He looked at Warren and said, “You just helped us with our case.”
Warren grinned and leaned back in his chair before crossing his arms. “And how did I go about doing such a thing?”
“Your humming,” Morgan told him. “One of Mena’s servants, Harry, recognized the tune. Apparently, he’s as attached to it as you are.”
“Does this confirm that the staff are working for Creed?” Lucas asked.
“I don’t know,” Morgan said. “But I plan to remain the night and have Ralph remain until the wedding. If he sees anything, he’ll let us know. Now that Mena has been tied to a public stabbing, no one will question my putting a guard on her.”
Simon asked the obvious question. “Where did Harry hear it?”
Morgan looked at him. “A tailor in Covent Garden, close to the theatre itself. Apparently, the tailor is known for making uniforms. He might be making a special order for the play.”
“I’ll visit the tailor tomorrow,” Simon said.
“I’ll go as well,” Morgan put in, then he rushed on. “I’ve no wish to be at home. I need to be out with the rest of you. Besides, if Thomas and the others are actually at the tailor’s when we go, it would be better to have more hands. Those men are unusually large.”
Simon nodded and turned to Warren and Lucas. “We’ll all go just in case. Warren, you’ll take the back. Lucas, you walk the street once we leave and tell us if you see anything.”
They started to make plans for the next day and when they finished, Morgan saw the men away and then spoke to Ralph, who’d been standing in the hall, instructing him to bring whatever he’d need for the morning back from his townhouse. Then he went upstairs and looked in on Mena.
The room was dark, and he decided if she was resting, he wouldn’t disturb her, so he went down to the room that Harry had prepared for him.
Once in his room, he stripped, slipped under the sheets, and stayed awake.