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Ainsley
My heart dropped to my feet—completely crushed at the prospect—as soon as the attendant uttered those words. They could not possibly be true. Not after everything I had done. Not after my father, the duke’s, dying request—he had known with certainty, and it was something I knew in my gut to be fact. But, what if he had been too late? What if Father had indeed been wrong, and Silverthorne were truly dead, as everyone with whom I’d enquired seemed to believe? What was I to do now? How was I supposed to find a man who everyone thought to be dead? What if he truly were dead? What was I supposed to do then? Everything would have been for naught. I was all alone and desperate for answers that no one seemed to have. Dead. The lone word played in a continuous loop within the confines of the chaos that was now my mind.
No. I would not believe it. I felt the sting of tears prickle behind my eyes as my nose burned, but I refused to cry, not in front of Killian, nor in front of this man, who had seemed so kind, and yet he had no qualms with the harshness in which he had spoken to me.
Staring at the attendant defiantly, I felt Killian stiffen at my side, however, I was unconcerned as to his well-being. “You are wrong, sir. I do not believe you.” I attempted to hide the trembling in my voice and likely failed.
His eyes softened then as he spoke directly to me. “Afraid not. The man you seek is no longer amongst the living. He’s long been dead, for many years, in fact.” Something, I could not be certain as to what—an emotion perhaps?—passed across his face, but it disappeared just as quickly.
“Let us leave this place, Ainsley.” Killian leaned in and whispered. “There are no answers to be found here.”
I reared back and scurried away from him. “I shall do no such thing. Not with you.”
Killian opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand. “I know what you think of me, what your crew thinks of me, and I will not subject myself to it any longer. Our deal is void, and I no longer need nor want your so-called protection.”
“Ainsley, wait. There is more we can do. It doesn’t have to be this way.” His voice held a pleading tone, yet I refused to fall for his charms—not this time. Killian’s soft lips, delicious square and stubbled jaw, the way he looked at me as though I were the most beautiful woman he had ever gazed upon. No. I would not. I would think of no such thing and rid my mind of that infuriating pirate once and for all.
“This is touching and all”—The attendant interrupted with a slight smirk playing upon his lips, and I glared at his intrusion—“but I do feel the lady has given you the boot, Captain.”
I was not amused at the way in which he defended me, as though I needed him to do so. Before I could protest, Killian strode forward.
“We never learned of your name, sir.” He stroked his chin, assessing the attendant with a confident air. “And you are? Oh, and before you answer that question, please tell us how you know for certain that Silverthorne is dead.”
The man cleared his throat, clearly affronted by Killian’s demands. “My name is of no consequence. But, if you must call me something, Thomas will do.” He narrowed his eyes at Killian, and not for the first time. “It is common knowledge that Wyatt Silverthorne is long dead. You have this young lady out chasing a ghost who could never be resurrected.”
I’d had enough. “If you are quite done speaking of me as though I’m not in the room, I shall take my leave. Good day, sir.” I swiveled my gaze to Killian, attempting not to meet his eyes for fear of falling into their depths once more. “Captain.” I nodded, and with those parting words, I ran across the marble flooring, my boots pounding and reverberating in my ears to the cadence of my wildly racing heart, then fled the Hall of Knowledge.
Hearing Killian shout after me, I pumped my legs harder, searching for the nearest Royal Naval vessel. I wanted to go home. I missed my mother and Jackson. If Silverthorne were dead, my search was over, and nothing was left for me to do.
Overwhelming despair crashed into me hard and fast, and it was all I could do to continue moving down the cobblestone path and toward the steam docks. Bypassing and bumping into curious onlookers, I did not bother with apologies. I didn’t have the energy nor the time, and I honestly couldn’t have cared less what they thought of my rude behavior. Swiping my tears away angrily, I continued my search for the nearest naval vessel, hoping and praying they would allow me passage home—to Rookhallow Proper, or at least to Darkhold. I honestly did not care. I only needed to be away from this place—and Killian.
His name alone sent a ripple of pain that stabbed me in the gut, but I ignored it and continued moving at a steady clip. I risked a glance behind me, only to find the infuriating pirate still following. Would he never give up?
Coming to an abrupt and rather painful halt, I crashed into a tall, blond-haired man, wearing what appeared to be a Royal Navy uniform. “Oh, thank the skies above!” I peered up into his brown eyes as he gazed down upon me.” I knew my lips were trembling, but I no longer cared.
“Yes, ma’am.” He tilted his head, appearing slightly confused. “Is there something I may assist you with?”
“Yes!” I hadn’t meant to shout, but well, I was in a hurry and knew Killian was only moments behind me. “I am Lady Ainsley Lilstrum of Rookhallow Proper.” I paused and glanced down at my attire, then cringed a bit. “I am clearly disguised, but I seek safe passage home, and I would greatly appreciate your assistance in doing so.”
“Lieutenant Galveston at your service, my Lady.” He bowed before me, and I had to refrain from rolling my eyes.
“Please, sir. I am in quite a rush.” I risked another glance over my shoulder, and Killian was merely ten feet from me now. “Let us make haste to your ship at once.”
“As you wish, my Lady.” Lieutenant Galveston linked his arm around my elbow and led me to the airship just to our left. Thank the heavens above! I’d been right on time; otherwise, Killian would have stopped me, and who knew what would happen then?
The gentleman assisted me up the long iron plank and onto the vessel, and I felt I could finally breathe again. Until a sinister voice boomed across the main deck.
“Lady Lilstrum, how nice of you to join us.”
Turning toward the sound of the man’s familiar voice, my hand covered my mouth to keep my startled scream at bay. He was the same man, the same dirty rogue who had attacked me in the alleyway of Darkhold. The very same filth who had promised to take me to his boss.
Dear Lord, what had I done?
