Merida shrugged, but her features had sharpened as she picked up on Ella’s simmering worry. “Here and there. Stroking her horse, picking wildflowers, helping me with cures for the village. She’s never been given an occupation to keep her busy, what with my brother barely acknowledging her existence. Now that he is gone, she is likely dancing about in her freedom.” She set the paddle down and wiped her red, moist hands on the apron tied about her middle.

“Hew Mackay has escaped from the dungeon sometime last night or this morn.” Ella met Merida’s gaze directly. “And he had help from within Girnigoe to do it.”

“Bloody hell,” Merida murmured, and rubbed her jaw. “Hannah would not have left with him, even if she did give him the key. Her heart does not hold such adventure.” She shook her head.

“What if he did not give her a choice?”

Wise, hard eyes met Ella’s gaze as they stared at each other. “Cac,” Merida whispered, her hands curling into fists in the gather of her apron. The two of them turned, hurrying to the corridor out of the kitchens. “Tend the kitchen fire, Esther,” Merida called to a passing maid.

“I will check her room and the great hall,” Merida yelled as Ella veered off toward the back of Girnigoe.

She ran through a hall adorned with pikes and swords and poked her head into the chapel. The heavy silence halted her, and she gazed at the stained-glass windows. Sun shone through pictures of the birth and death of Christ on the eastern side. Several statues of angels and horses sat behind an inset pulpit where a broad rendering of the four horsemen hung in brilliantly colored glass. Ella hurried down the line of pews, glancing in each as if she might find Hannah dozing. She was not. “Mother Mary, help us,” she murmured.

If Hannah was with Hew Mackay, what would he do to her? Force her to marry him to gain a tie to Clan Sinclair? Demand ridiculous riches in exchange for her life? Demand Cain trade Ella for his sister? I would survive Varrich better than she.

Ella ran out the other side of the chapel, questioning every warrior she met along the way, but none had seen her. Turning on her heel, Ella strode back through the chapel and armory, boots clipping on the various floors made of wood and stone. “Hannah,” she called out, but no answer came from the dark corners and cool granite walls.