Like a Gentleman: A Regency Romance (Love in Portsmouth Book 1) by Eliot Grayson

of life at Eton, where the fellow had clearly never been; even Leo, who hadn’t either, could tell as much. Still, Leo thought it might sell. “Go away!” he shouted. His office door swung wide anyway, of course, and Johnson, usually the least excitable of his clerks, practically bounced through the doorway. Pink-cheeked and grinning, he said, “There’s a gentleman to see you,” and his voice broke in a crack of laughter. “What the devil’s a gentleman doing here? And what’s the matter with you?” Leo didn’t know what the punchline would be, but he was damn certain it would come at his expense somehow. Johnson’s eyes gleamed, but he stifled any further laughter, perhaps knowing Leo was a breath away from strangling him with his jaunty checked neckcloth. “A very,” he took a deep breath, “very fine gentleman, sir. The very finest I’ve ever seen. Here,” and he held out a calling card. Leo took it, but before he could look at it more footsteps creaked the floorboards in the outer office and a petulant, cultured voice cut over another clerk’s protests. “I see no reason why I should wait on this Wells person’s convenience,” it said. “And damme, man, don’t touch this coat, it’s one of Weston’s!” The voice rose in volume as it approached, and an instant later, a blindingly colorful figure posed languidly in the doorway, as if perfectly aware of the impression he made. The man raised a quizzing glass to one dark eye. A little sneer curled his perfectly formed lips as he looked Leo up and dow