Just a Little Heartache

by Merry Farmer

  Annamarie made an offended sound and turned up her nose at Niall. “But of course, a man like you wouldn’t believe a decent woman. I’m certain you have no experience at all with good people, you perverted husband-stealer.”

  Niall huffed and rolled his eyes.

  Blake ignored the interaction and marched closer to Annamarie. Ian flinched as though he would intercept him, and Annamarie yelped and braced herself in the door, as though Blake meant her harm.

  “I just want the children, Annamarie,” Blake said, pausing when he was still several feet from her and holding up his hands to show that he meant no harm. He wouldn’t hurt her, but if she thought he might and it spurred her to return the children faster, then he would let her believe it. “Is Ian telling the truth about them being in the house?”

  “He is,” Annamarie insisted.

  “And I say prove it,” Niall repeated.

  “Oh, Ian, they aren’t going to leave us alone unless you show them,” Annamarie whined.

  “Fine,” Ian grumbled, then marched to the gate. He threw the gate open so violently that it rattled on its hinges, then marched up to the window beside the front door. He rapped on it angrily and shouted, “Show your faces, you little wretches.”

  Fury like nothing Blake had known roared in his gut, and he started toward Ian, intent on throttling the man, if he could. He stopped dead after only a few paces when the curtain parted to reveal Greta and Jessie, or at least their heads and shoulders. The window was too high to see all of them, or to see Alan, but it was most certainly them.

  “Darlings,” Blake cried out, picking up his pace.

  “Wait!” Annamarie shouted as he rounded the front of the carriage. She hopped down, squealing at the rain, and dashed around the carriage to meet Blake. “I….” her mouth hung open for a moment as her gaze traveled past Blake to Ian. As Ian marched forward to join the interaction, Niall did as well.

  “You’ve seen them,” Ian said. “Now give me what I asked for.”

  Blake held the envelope and box out to Ian, but Annamarie threw herself into Blake’s arms before Ian could take them. The gesture was a shock and threw Blake off balance.

  “I know you’re a good man, Blake,” Annamarie said, her eyes shining with tears and regret. “If you had only loved me the way I wanted you to, this whole thing could have been avoided.”

  “But, you see, I could never love you that way,” Blake said, his heart feeling oddly sympathetic for the woman who had caused so much trouble in his life. He glanced over his shoulder to Niall. “I always have and I always will love Niall, whether you understand or approve or not.”

  Annamarie gasped and took a large step back, then sniffed. “May God have mercy on your soul,” she said, her face turning stony. A moment later, her expression softened. “You will let me see the children from time to time, won’t you?” she asked, her face changing yet again to an odd sort of anxiety. “I may not be the maternal sort, but they are my girls. And girls need their mother, especially as they grow older. I…I feel horrible about parting with them.” She sent a worried look to the house, where the girls still watched from the window, and then glanced to Ian and bit her lip.

  Blake sighed. “It would be wrong of me to keep them from you indefinitely. But I’m afraid you’ll have to earn my trust again before that will be possible.”

  “I…I understand.” Annamarie lowered her head and twisted her gloved hands together. “Oh, I simply cannot bear this rain.”

  She tore past Blake, possibly even bursting into tears as she did, though Blake didn’t have a chance to follow her to see if that was the case. Ian marched forward and plucked the envelope and box with the medallion from his hands so fast that he knocked Blake to the side. As soon as he had them, he nearly ran for the carriage.

  “Come on.” Niall burst forward just as fast, grabbing Blake’s arm and wrenching him toward the cottage. “I don’t trust him as far as I can see him. We need to get the kids out of here, out of Blackpool, now.”

  Blake nodded. The carriage’s driver snapped his reins over the horses, sending the carriage careening down the road at a dangerous pace. Blake didn’t care where Ian and Annamarie went next. They could go to hell as far as he was concerned. He had his children back.

  Greta and Jessie were shouting something on the other side of the window, their eyes wide with terror and their faces pale. They banged against the glass, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” and other things Blake couldn’t make out.

  “The door is locked,” Niall said as he rattled the handle.

  “Girls, can you open the door?” Blake shouted through the window.

  “Mama!” Greta banged against the inside of the glass, pointing at the carriage. “Alan! She has Alan!”

  “I need you to open the door from the inside, darling,” Blake instructed her.

  Only when she dashed away from the window did her words begin to sink in. Blake tore to the front door—which Niall was now attempting to knock down by ramming his shoulder into it. He pushed Niall out of the way, trying the handle himself.

  It took a few more, maddening seconds before Greta managed to unlock the door from the inside and wrench it open. As soon as she did, Blake leapt into the house, gathering both of his girls in his arms.

  “Thank God,” he groaned, hugging them for all he was worth and coming close to bursting into tears. “Thank God you’re safe.”

  “Where’s the boy?” Niall asked in a far darker voice. “Where’s Alan?”

  “Mama still has him,” Greta said, voice hoarse, nearly beside herself. “Mr. Archibald called him a bargaining chip.”

  Blake’s heart dropped to his bowels. He continued to hold his girls close—or rather, they continued to cling to him, burying their faces in his wet coat, as though their lives depended on it—while glancing around the cottage as if Alan would pop out of the woodwork.

  “She’s right,” Niall said, guessing Blake’s thoughts immediately. “He isn’t here.”

  “I want to go home,” Jessie wailed. When she lifted her face to him, Blake was struck dumb with a moment of blinding rage at the angry red bruise that covered half her face.

  The corners of his vision went black and he began to shake. “What happened to you?” he asked, holding her tighter.

  “Mr. Archibald struck her when she tried to fight him to get Alan back,” Greta said, her eyes wide and streaming with tears. “Mama didn’t see him do it.”

  “I want—” Jessie started, but dissolved into wails and sobs as she clutched Blake so hard he didn’t think he would ever be able to pry her away. Not that he wanted to. If he had his way, his girls would never leave his sight again.

  “We have to go after them,” Niall said, starting for the door. “As fast as possible. That ship leaves tomorrow.”

  “Mama and Mr. Archibald are going to Grandfather Cannon’s house in New York,” Greta confirmed the suspicion Blake had had all along. “And they’re going to take Alan.”

  “We can’t let them go.” Blake shifted his girls so that he held their hands and followed Niall out into the rain. He hated forcing his girls to run through the chilly downpour with his whole heart, but it was better for them to get a little wet now so that they could save Alan from being taken away and prevent the entire situation from getting more complicated.

  But before they were even close to the hotel, Blake saw the problem in their situation.

  “We can’t leave the girls alone in the hotel,” he called to Niall, who rushed on by his side, holding Greta’s hand. It was a good sign that Greta trusted him enough to take Niall’s hand, but Blake would dwell on what that meant later.

  “There’s no telling how far Ian and Annamarie have gotten already in that carriage,” Niall added.

  “Or what time the next train for Liverpool departs,” Blake agreed. “They’re going to get away.” It broke his heart to admit as much.

  “We might still have a chance,” Niall said. They were closer to the center of Blackp
ool now, and several people stared at the odd group they made as they hurried on. “We were counting on Ian not realizing the medallion we gave him is a fake, but that might be what saves us in the end.”

  “If he wants it that badly, he might not leave England until he has it,” Blake said, following that line of logic.

  “I’m not sure we can count on that, though,” Niall said. “We need to be in Liverpool, monitoring the departing ship.”

  “And I need to send a telegram to my bank not to honor that draught,” Blake added.

  “But I want to go home,” Jessie wept.

  Blake winced at the choice in front of him. Whatever they did, they would have to bring the girls with them. He would go to Liverpool to intercept Ian and Annamarie and get Alan back, but he wasn’t sure the girls trusted Niall enough to return to Selby Manor with him. Especially not Jessie. She was as likely to think Niall would be cruel to her the way Ian had as not. She didn’t know him. By that same token, if he stayed with the girls and sent Niall to Liverpool, even if he did intercept Ian and Annamarie before they boarded the ship, Alan didn’t know Niall. And if the police got involved, they would give Alan to Annamarie and not a seemingly random stranger. If they all went to Liverpool, that would only prolong the trauma his girls were experiencing with no guarantee they would catch up to Ian and Annamarie.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Blake told Niall as they reached the hotel and stepped into the shelter of the lobby. The girls instantly clung to him again, proving even further that he couldn’t and wouldn’t separate himself from them. “I have to choose between my daughters and my son and heir,” he went on, the full horror of the situation hitting him.

  Niall scowled. “I’m sure that’s what Ian had in mind from the start.” He wiped a hand over his wet face, studying the girls with a look of compassion. For a moment, Niall was silent, as if he were running through the same options Blake had. At last, he said, “We’ll have to contact the police in Liverpool to inform them of the situation. They’re the only ones who can stop Ian and Annamarie from getting on a ship with Alan.”

  “You’re right.” Blake nodded, feeling more at ease with Niall there to help. “In the meantime, we need to get the girls home to—no.” He glanced from Niall to each of his girls. “We need to take the girls somewhere Ian and Annamarie or anyone who might be in league with them won’t find them.”

  “Because if Ian feels like he needs to hold on to Alan as—what did you say Mr. Archibald called him, Greta?” Niall asked.

  “A bargaining chip,” Greta answered, eyes round.

  Niall nodded, looking back at Blake. “He wants something more from you, or at least to ensure that you live up to your end of the bargain. Which you aren’t doing because of the medallion. Chances are he won’t return Alan until he has all of his money and our reputations are ruined.”

  “And he probably knows the medallion is a fake now,” Blake added. The situation was beginning to make sense, though it was still wretched. He studied his daughters for a moment before saying, “We have to return to Selby Manor, at least at first. It’s the only place Ian would know where to find us with further demands.”

  “We need to go to London as soon as possible after that,” Niall said. His face broke into an almost nonsensically ironic grin. “I have a show that opens in just over a week. I nearly forgot.”

  It was mad. The entire situation was utterly mad, but there was little they could do about it.

  “We’ll go to Selby Manor, then,” he decided, squeezing his girls closer. “We’ll have every police officer in this country searching for Ian and Annamarie and Alan. We’ll get Alan back, but we’ll go to London and find a safe place for the girls, where Ian and Annamarie won’t be able to reach them, before we do.”

  Chapter 21

  The journey back to Selby Manor seemed to take ten times as long as any of the previous trips Niall and Blake had made because of the girls. Niall was impatient the whole time on Blake’s behalf, but he couldn’t begrudge the girls their need for naps and snacks and awkward trips to the ladies’ facilities that were their own kind of puzzle, considering neither Niall nor Blake were permitted to enter a public toilet for ladies, but Greta and Jessie were too young to go by themselves. Not that Blake wanted to let them out of his sight anyhow. He was nearly arrested in Liverpool for accompanying his girls into a facility, even though they’d waited until it was empty and Niall had stood guard by the door.

  “Let’s hope that’s the only encounter we have with the police,” Blake said after arguing with an officer at the Liverpool train station. He held each of his girls’ hands and sped through the platforms as they rushed to catch a train.

  “I’ve definitely been accosted by the police for less savory reasons,” Niall agreed with a grim look.

  “You have?” Blake asked, brow lifting, as he let go of Jessie’s hand at the platform long enough to fish out their tickets for the porter.

  Niall waited to answer until they were past the man and settled in their first-class compartment. “It’s unavoidable in London, particularly when one is part of the theatrical set. But they leave us alone for the most part, unless someone does something foolish.”

  Blake focused on making sure the girls were comfortable, but the look on his face was wary. “I only hope the officers at Liverpool’s central police office took my pleas seriously and plan to keep an eye out for Ian and Annamarie at the dock today.”

  “They will,” Niall said, though he wasn’t so sure.

  They’d stopped off at the central Liverpool police station first thing upon arriving in the town that morning. The officers had been sympathetic to Blake’s fears about Annamarie taking Alan out of the country, but even though Blake was a duke, without orders from a court or papers from a solicitor, all they’d been able to promise to do was watch. To complicate matters, Blake had been less than discreet about his dependence on Niall, which had raised eyebrows. Niall loved Blake with all his heart and his life felt right again, now that they were together, but even in London, their life together wasn’t going to be easy, considering the way Blake wore his heart on his sleeve.

  Niall had just about resolved to bring the subject up and educate Blake on the various ways men like them could keep a low profile while still living as they wanted to when the carriage they’d hired in Leeds to take them to Selby Manor pulled up to Blake’s front door.

  “We’re home,” Greta said, nearly weeping with relief.

  “I want to give Sarah a big hug,” Jessie added, leaping toward the door and trying the handle before the carriage had fully stopped.

  “Her doll,” Blake explained, holding the door handle firmly so that Jessie couldn’t do herself harm. Enough harm had been done to her already, and Niall shared the rage he saw in Blake’s eyes every time he looked at the bruise Ian had left on the sweet girl’s face.

  In spite of the fact that the girls clearly felt their trials were over when Blake finally opened the door, climbed out of the carriage, and lifted them down, Niall had the terrible feeling their problems were only just beginning when Xavier burst out through the front door and rushed to meet them.

  “Sir,” Xavier began, standing in Blake’s path to stop him from racing after the girls, who had darted ahead into the house as Charles held the door. “The police are here.”

  Blake shook his head and blinked at Xavier, but dread filled Niall’s gut.

  “For what reason?” Blake asked as the three of them headed up the terrace stairs and into the house.

  “They arrived an hour ago demanding to question the staff and to know your whereabouts,” Xavier reported. He glanced to Niall. “Both of your whereabouts. They are particularly interested in whether you are together.” The sharp look in the young man’s eyes hinted there was more to the word “together” than physical proximity.

  “Ian,” Niall hissed, acid in his gut. “This has to be part of his plan.”

  “It would fit,” Blake sighed wearily, rubbin
g a hand over his face. He hadn’t had time to shave in days, which had him looking rough and roguish. Under any other circumstances, Niall would have found his appearance irresistible and dragged Blake off to let the man have his way with him. “Where are the officers?” Blake asked Xavier at last.

  “In the Egyptian parlor, sir,” Xavier answered. “It’s the farthest from here, so I thought it would give me a moment to explain things.”

  “Good idea.” Blake thumped Xavier’s shoulder, then started down the hall, calling, “Let the nursery maid know the girls are back.”

  “You’re not going to confront the police immediately, are you?” Niall rushed after Blake.

  Blake glanced at him, a determined spark in his eyes. “You may know the way of things in London, but things work differently in Yorkshire. I know how to manage local police officers.”

  He added a wry grin that was almost enough to give Niall confidence that they’d make it through the confrontation unscathed.

  That confidence faltered when they entered the Egyptian parlor and were faced with two Metropolitan Police officers from London. They were examining curiosities around the room, but turned to frown at Blake and Niall when they entered.

  All the same, Blake kept his smile in place as he greeted them with, “Gentlemen, I’m sorry you were made to wait. I’ve only just arrived home from an emergency trip to Blackpool to retrieve my children. My wife and I had a disagreement, and I had reason to believe she intended to take my son, the future duke, and my daughters out of the country.”

  A burst of pride filled Niall at the clever way Blake began the encounter. In one, quick comment, he’d reminded the officers he was a duke, a married man, and a father, and that Annamarie was in the wrong. All the same, Niall hung back to observe how things would go next instead of drawing attention to himself.

  The officers gaped and stammered, immediately on the back foot.

  “We received reports of, um, acts of gross indecency taking place here, your grace,” the taller of the two officers said. He glanced in Niall’s direction.