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I pondered her question for a moment, stroking the dark stubble along my jaw, and wondered if I should answer honestly. And decided against it. “Your father is the duke, is he not?”
She visibly swallowed and turned away. I’d upset her. “Was, yes. He passed away.”
I cleared my throat. “Sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She swallowed thickly, just as our drinks were set in front of us.
Prepared to quickly change the subject, I did just that. “What brings you to Darkhold?” When I asked the question, her face immediately brightened.
“Adventure. Destiny. And… I must find someone. I’m in awe of the world around me, well, not the vomit and rubbish, but everything else. The airships! I have wanted to travel my entire life! See everything from the skies.” She paused and sipped her wine. “I apologize. I’m rambling. You have no idea how long I’ve yearned to be free of this place.”
Her answer took me aback. It was not at all what I had expected. “You are the daughter of the duke and duchess, yet you want to be free of the privilege that life affords you?” I swallowed my beer in several long gulps, prepared for another.
Ainsley toyed with the rim of her glass. “I know you may think me ungrateful, but I am not. I love the life I was given. But everything has changed… And that is why I’m here. In Darkhold.”
“Ah. I see.” I called for another beer and then turned my attention back to her. “Why is that?”
Ainsley glanced about our surroundings before she answered my question. “I must find the rogue, Silverthorne.”
She couldn’t be serious. “How do you suppose you’ll find him?”
Her piercing blue gaze met mine. “You. You can help me.”
I nearly choked. Where was my bloody beer? “Say that again? I can help you do what?”
Lowering her voice to a whisper, she peered around once more, and then fixed her gaze on me. “Find Silverthorne. I know he’s not dead, and you can help me.”
I tossed my tricorne on the table and speared my fingers through my disheveled black hair. “What makes you believe he isn’t dead?” I’d heard the rumors as well, but they were just that—rumors. The man in question was, in fact, very much alive.
“I just know, all right?” She pursed her lips. “I have part of a letter he wrote to my…” She trailed off.
“To your…?” I raised an eyebrow in question.
“I’d rather not speak of it in here.” She scanned the tavern, observing the other patrons and shuddered. “It’s personal.”
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Where do you suppose we should continue this conversation?”
“Killian, please.” Ainsley whisper-shouted, placing her hands firmly on the table, clearly no longer concerned with how filthy its surface may be. “I need your help. I must do this.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not understanding the sense of urgency.” She had no idea what she was asking.
“Okay, let me ask you a question.” She paused, and I gestured for her to continue. “If you could help me, would you?”
I thought about it for a moment. I could help her. But, did I want to get involved in the mess that was Silverthorne? His history? His enemies, the lot of them? They would become my enemies if I weren’t careful. Then I stared into Ainsley’s beautiful pleading gaze, and I knew I could not refuse.
I leaned forward, our faces merely inches apart, the floral smell of her hair tickling my senses, and I inhaled sharply. “I can help you…but it will cost you.”
