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He reserved comment.

“Are you in love with her?”

“Lina,” Niall said. “I should mention that love is not required for a man and woman to be together. In fact, if you remember our own courtship—”

“I am well aware of the fact, husband. And also that she is a widow. But one does not remain in the hall of an inn all evening for a woman he simply wishes to bed.”

“Nay?” Niall asked. “‘Twould seem a fine reason to wait.”

“Niall.”

“Lina.”

Kieran leaned back, looking through the hall again but still not seeing her. Crossing his arms, he waited for the two of them to finish their conversation.

About him.

He cleared his throat just as Niall leaned into his wife and kissed her on the nose. “You are cute when you’re angry.”

“My feelings for Maisie,” Kieran said when his brother finished, “have naught to do with the fact that Niall and I learned there was, indeed, a boy who went missing at the battle from Clan MacKinlay. I met a healer who said as much but would reveal no further details unless I told her why I wished for the information.”

“You willnae tell her your identity?”

Where was Maisie? It was unlike her not to be in the hall for such an extended period of time.

“I do not believe the woman would keep the information to herself. So nay, I dinnae tell her. But today we spoke with others who remember the battle, and the boy.”

“You,” Avelina clarified.

“Aye, me.”

“And?” Avelina prompted. “What did they tell you? Did they know of the boy’s identity? And why have neither of you told me before now?”

He smiled sweetly at his sister-in-law. “You seemed intent on discussing other things.”

“Oh, you. Tell me,” she said.

Kieran was about to. But there was still no Maisie anywhere despite being mealtime. She’d never missed a meal that he could remember.

“Niall will tell you what we’ve discovered. I will be back,” he said, standing.

When he found one of the serving maids, he realized they had not seen Maisie for some time either. Something was amiss. He caught Niall’s eye out of more caution than was likely necessary, and without hesitation his brother stood and joined him.

“She is always here during the meal,” he said. “The maid has not seen her, which is also unusual.”

“I will get Dougal and Hamish.”

“The stables,” Kieran said, intending to begin his search there since he’d not seen her walk through the hall. “And then the kitchens,” he added, heading toward the door. There was no reason for Maisie to be in her rooms, and with every step he took, Kieran knew he should have begun looking for her earlier. She should have been in the hall.

A chill that promised the start of a new, even colder season forced most inside. He spotted no one, and nothing seemed amiss. Even so . . . Kieran could not get rid of the feeling something was wrong with Maisie. Why had he not gone looking for her earlier?

He froze.

There was a sound from behind the stables, barely perceptible over the ones from inside, but one that his trained ears as a tracker told him did not belong. As he ran toward it, his worst fears came true at the scene before him. Three men stood there, two watching while a third held a woman against the back of the wooden stables.

Maisie.

She noticed him before the others did. Her mouth covered by the bastard’s hand, while his other pinned both of her hands above her head, she looked as scared as he imagined she felt. A rage surfaced inside him that Kieran had never—not in any battle or any other time in his life—experienced. He unsheathed his sword so quickly that none of the men noticed until he was directly upon them.