.
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.
Lewis averted his gaze. “No, but she’s a great artist. She’s where I get my talent for detail.”
Morgan frowned and wondered why Lewis would be ashamed of such a thing. “It seems you come from a very talented home. What does your father do?”
Lewis looked at him, and his eyes became serious. Every trace of the young carefree man they’d met before was gone. “I never knew my father and neither did my mother.”
Morgan understood everything Lewis said and everything he didn’t say. He also understood why he was so close to Seven Dials. His mother was probably a prostitute, but that didn’t answer how he’d come to have the shop.
“Mr. Lewis,” Simon called.
The young man turned to him, his expression guarded.
Simon went on. “Do you run an honest business?”
That seemed to surprise him. “Yes, I do.”
“Who funded you?” Simon asked.
Lewis swallowed and said, “My mother and some of her friends, my lord.”
Simon had started on a path of no return as far as his questions were concerned. “Are these friends prostitutes?”
Lewis folded the papers and looked away. It was clear be believed his confession would be the end of their business. “Yes. A bunch of prostitutes saw a boy with a dream and helped him get it. Have you any other questions?” He was defensive about the women who’d helped him open his shop. He probably cared for them. It was clear they cared for him.
“Does anyone else fund your shop?” Simon asked.
Lewis sighed and stared at the men with a look that wasn’t friendly. He placed the papers on the small table in the room and put his hand on his hips. “No, and a portion of my money goes to the women who helped me open this shop.”
Morgan asked, “Do you know Creed?”
The tailor’s head wiped around with a great amount of surprise. “What?” He looked at him and Simon and asked, “What is this about?”
“Answer the question,” Simon said, taking a step forward.
“No.” Lewis lifted his hands. “I don’t know that man.” He looked at Simon and Morgan. Something flashed in his eyes. Fear. He whispered, “Do you know him?”
“We do,” Morgan said. “But we do not count him as a friend.”
Lewis visibly relaxed, and he dropped his hands. “I don’t understand. Why are you asking me these questions?”
Simon took a step away and looked Lewis over. “Because, we like to know more about a man before we invest a fortune into him.”
Lewis’ face went blank. “Fortune?” He looked at Simon and Morgan. “I don’t understand.”
“You have a good business here,” Morgan told him. “But you’d have a better one on Bond Street. Your clientele would also be of higher quality, which means you’d need to raise your prices. Does your mother enjoy her work?”
Lewis blinked. “No.”
“Good,” Morgan went on. “We think you need a catalogue as well. Your mother would run it. Her designs are without flaw, and I’m sure the rest of the women you care for can take on any position you feel they’d fit.”
Lewis looked amazed and asked, “Why would you do this?”
“Because we like money,” Simon told him. “And we like you.”
“But I’m a bastard,” Lewis said blankly.
“Lucky you,” Morgan murmured before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a card. “Set an appointment with my secretary, and we’ll talk business.”
Lewis took the card, and his eyes widened before he looked at Morgan. “You own Atlantic Imports?”
Morgan nodded.
Simon gained his attention again. “Now, Lewis, we’re going to change subjects for a moment and I need you to follow me. I need you to use that sharp mind of yours to answer my questions.”
Lewis looked at Simon, straightened his spine, and nodded. Morgan could see the change in his eyes. He was focused and ready to hear anything Simon said.
“Have you heard this tune before?” Simon began to hum.
Lewis’ eyes widened. “’I’d Marry Him Tomorrow.’” He cursed. “Excuse me, but the song has been in my head since I heard it. Yes, I know the song.”
“Where did you hear it?” Simon asked.
“Here, in my shop,” he told him. “A man came in with two friends from the theatre and told me they needed uniforms for a play. I was honored, so I made them. He kept humming that song during his fitting though. One of his friends sang the words.”
“Were they large men?” Morgan asked.
Lewis nodded. “Oh, yes, and I thought them perfect for the positions of guards in the play. I made three uniforms.”
“Three uniforms in a week?” Simon asked.
Lewis smiled. “Yes, my mother’s friends have many talents. One of those talents is sewing, but they don’t work here in the shop because they don’t wish to ruin my reputation.” He was well loved and investing in him was starting to make Morgan feel good.
“What were the names of the men who ordered the uniforms?” Morgan asked.
“Timothy, Loftus, and Joshua.”
Morgan looked at Simon and wanted to ask him how likely it was that the three large men Lewis remembered were Thomas, Luke, and John? But he couldn’t say that in front of Lewis.
Simon nodded in understanding and turned back to Lewis. “Do those men plan to come back?”
Lewis shrugged. “Our business is complete, but I would hope so. One always wishes for easy clients to return.”
He had good business sense, but Morgan focused on Creed. What were the men planning to guard? Because one thing was certain, the O.S.S. had gone over the script for the play and there were no guards in it.
“Could you sketch the design of the uniform for us?” Simon asked.
“Of course,” Lewis said. “It might take my mother a day, but I’ll have it to you as soon as possible.”
Simon and Morgan left Lewis after that, reassuring the man that they looked forward to their meeting.
Outside, Simon said, “I like him. I hope he’s innocent.”
“Me, too,” Morgan said because he was in the mood to give the man a chance… much like the one Mena was giving him. The thought of her made him smile, and he decided that after a visit home, he’d go see her.