Page 10 of The Marquess' Disguised Heiress
“How do you know she is not in France?”
“Before arriving in London, I had my people look over France to find out if she was staying there or perhaps visiting, but she is not there.”
“In that case, I have been unable to find her in London or the rest of England either,” John said dejectedly.
“This is not right, Mr Striker,” he said, mostly conversing with himself, “I can feel something is terribly wrong about the whole situation, and I will have to find out what it is.”
“If you know an old house servant who might be contacted, you might be able to gather more information because all the servants in the country house and the London estate were replaced ten years ago.”
“What about her inheritance, Mr Striker? There must surely be a record of that?”
“Yes.” John nodded, giving Alexander hope, “When the duke and duchess passed away, the duke’s will had been done very smartly. He already knew he would not be able to give hisdaughter his title or the country home, so he gave her everything else. Every penny that belonged to the Grafton name was written to Eliza Gordon, including the dresses, the jewels, and even the London house now called the Russel Estate. If Eliza Gordon is alive and exists, everything the Russels are using right now belongs to her, and they are committing a major crime.”
Alexander was certain Eliza Gordon did exist. But what had the Russels done with her? He suddenly felt terrified, extremely worried for her sake.
“Thank you so much, Mr Striker.” Alexander stood up, “If you find out anything else regarding the matter, I wish to know about it at once. I appreciate all the good work you have done for me. This will help me in finding Eliza.”
“Of course, My Lord.”
The butler came inside at a knock on the door, and Mr Striker was ushered outside while Alexander made his way towards his study, extremely confused. He knew he needed to do something, and he needed to do it quickly, especially now that the London Season was almost upon them.
As he entered his study, George followed him inside with a steaming cup of tea, which he placed on Alexander’s table.
“Your tea, My Lord.”
He nodded absently at his valet, sitting behind his desk with his mind still on Eliza and the supposed mystery of her disappearance. Where could she be? he wondered, his heart racing with confusion.
John Striker had been right in suggesting that Alexander needed to find an old house servant to discover more, but where would he even find them? Could someone still be working on the estate?
It was still worth a try.
“You seem worried, My Lord.” George’s concerned tone made him look up, an idea suddenly springing to his head, “Can I do something for you.”
“Actually, George, you can.”
Alexander stood up, striding out from behind his desk, his mind already rushing in triumph. He knew exactly what he needed to do to reach a servant from the Russel London Estate and find out if someone who had been there fourteen years ago could potentially still be working there. He had to take this risk.
“Anything for you, My Lord.”
“Take off your clothes,” Alexander said hurriedly, already beginning to take off his boots.
“I do not understand, My Lord.” George was the very picture of confusion, and Alexander realized how absurd his request must have sounded to his young valet.
“I need your clothes. I will pretend to be you, George, a stable hand of the Blackwood Manor and the right hand to my valet.”
“But I am your valet.”
“Absolutely you are.” Alexander nodded. “But if I simply pretend to be a valet, I will have no reason to go inside the Russel Estate, but as a stable hand, I can find one reason or another to get inside the place.”
“The Russel Estate? Our neighbours?”
“Yes, I must get inside and do some investigating myself. No other way left.”
George’s confusion finally cleared up, and he nodded.
“Is this the search you have been doing since France? You have been looking for Eliza Gordon.”
“Precisely and for that, I must assume your identity, and if need be, you will have to assume mine.”
