Margot snorted and pushed her hair from her face. “The barony. Entry into England. Power, like every man before you and after you and around you now.”

Arran merely shrugged. “Aye, it’s what every man wants. But did you no’ want the same? Did you no’ want your own lands and a title, and all the trappings that come with it?”

“No,” she said, appalled. “I wanted a good match. A companion. I wanted a husband who wasn’t gone all day every day. I wanted someone who cared for finer things, who would take tea with me, perhaps bring me to Edinburgh—”

“This is the Highlands of Scotland, aye? No’ a bloody London or Paris salon.”

Margot could feel her hackles rising and checked herself. “You’re right. But that was the crux of it—I needed a more civilized existence.”

“Mind your mouth, woman,” he said, looking genuinely offended.

“You came to my chamber fresh from the hunt with blood on your shirt!”

“Aye, and I took it off!” he shouted. “Do you think it was easy to be wed to you?”

“Me!”

“Oh, aye, little lamb, you,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “You were so timid and disdainful of everything. Haughty! Aye, you were a haughty one,” he said, flicking his wrist at her. “Nothing was good enough for milady, was it?”

Margot looked away. There was some truth to that, she couldn’t deny it. She’d been angry she’d been forced to marry him, so determined to find fault with him and Balhaire. “I was so young, Arran. So inexperienced.”

“You were definitely that,” he curtly agreed.

She glanced at him sidelong. He was pacing now, dragging his hand through his long, unruly hair. “Why didn’t you come after me?” she asked softly.

Arran slowly turned to look at her for a long moment, his jaw clenched. “Because I donna chase after dogs or women. They come to me.”

Margot’s gut clenched. She could almost feel herself shrink and averted her gaze. “What a lovely sentiment.”

“I have my pride, woman.” He threw back the coverlet and got back in the bed.

“And I pierced it. So there you have it,” she said, drawing her knees up to her chest. “The only thing that ever truly existed between us was in this bed. It was the only place where we could agree.”

“The hell we agreed here,” he spat. “It is your duty to provide me an heir,” he said, bending his arm behind his head to pillow it. “And the last time I looked about, I have none.”

“I was to be your broodmare, is that it? Of course—I was bartered like one.”

“You came of your own free will!”

“My own free will! I had no choice, and well you know it.”