any good,” Niall sighed. He pushed away from the building. “Honestly, Blake, I think the only thing we can do is go back to the hotel and wait for Annamarie to contact us.”
“There has to be some other action we can take,” Blake hissed, straightening as well. “I hate this feeling of helplessness. I hate that we’re so close and still so far apart.” His eyes flickered to Niall as surprise entered his expression.
Niall’s chest squeezed. “I know.” He rested a hand on Blake’s arm, well aware of the double meaning of his words. “But there really isn’t a damn thing we can do about it.”
Blake nodded reluctantly, starting forward when Niall tugged him into motion. Niall hated it as much as Blake did, but sometimes there was nothing at all to be done when one’s life hung in the balance but wait.
Chapter 16
By the time they returned to the hotel, Blake was so weary with defeat that he could only nod gratefully when Niall thought to purchase pasties and bottled beer to take up to their room, then sit on the end of one of the beds and eat the simple supper without conversation, barely tasting anything. It frustrated him beyond belief to think that his Greta, Jessie, and Alan were so near after they’d been apart for so long, but that he wasn’t any closer to having them back in his arms than he had been at Lady Inglewood’s party.
The frustration of being so close and so far went double when it came to Niall.
“There’s no telling when or if Annamarie will send us word of where she is or when she wants to meet,” Niall sighed as he removed his coat and jacket, then sat on the end of the room’s other bed to eat his supper. “We should be ready to hear from her at any moment, or not to hear from her at all.”
Blake huffed a wry laugh and swallowed the last bite of his pasty, washing it down with beer. “If she doesn’t return the children to me tomorrow, I’m going to the police.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t suggest going to the police the moment we got here,” Niall admitted, his mouth full.
Blake sent him a tired look. “I trust people too much, remember? I am trying to trust Annamarie to do the right thing in this situation. Frightening her could hurt my cause in the end.”
Niall narrowed his eyes slightly. “You always refer to her as Annamarie. I don’t think I’ve heard you refer to her as your wife until you said as much to Lady Archibald.”
Blake crumpled the paper his pasty had come in and stood to remove his coat, something he hadn’t done when they entered the room. “I don’t think of her that way,” he said, turning away from Niall to drape his coat over one of the room’s chairs and toss the pasty wrapper into the bin.
“No,” Niall said, sarcasm in his voice. “I suppose I’m the one you think of that way.”
Blake glanced over his shoulder at Niall as he unbuttoned his jacket. Niall had been a bastard since they reached Liverpool that morning, but it was only because he was tired. And distraught. Blake might have been the one in the greatest amount of distress, but that didn’t exempt Niall from feeling it as well. He’d been the same way in the week leading up to the performance of the play at university. In a paradoxical way, Niall in a rotten mood was even more endearing than cheerful Niall.
Blake shrugged out of his jacket and hung that on the back of the chair, then peeled off his waistcoat as well. There was no point in being modest in front of Niall. The man had already seen everything there was to see and then some. And at the moment, all Blake wanted to do was put on his pajamas and go to bed, hoping that tomorrow brought everything he’d been wishing for since Annamarie left.
“You’re not wife material,” he said at last, slipping off his shoes, leaving them in the middle of the floor, and opening his suitcase to retrieve his pajamas.
Niall laughed tiredly. “No, if either of us were to claim that role, it would be you.” He stood and carried his pasty wrapper and empty bottle to the bin, glancing at Blake with one eyebrow raised.
“Me?” Blake’s mouth twitched into a half grin as he shut the lid of his suitcase and tugged his shirt out of