“You?” Bryce exploded, and then laughed. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

“No, Margot,” her father said calmly. “I will be held accountable. I am the one who brought that bastard into England and into this family, and if he is a traitor, the queen and her men will look to me, as well. We will lose everything. We will be accused of conspiring with the rebels and the French and—” he squeezed her hand so tightly that it hurt “—and I might very well hang.”

Margot’s breath lodged in her lungs.

Her father was suddenly looming over her. He cupped her face, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d been drinking. “There is only one way to know if he plots against us without drawing attention to ourselves. And that is for you, his precious wife, to go and discover what he’s about before anyone else. You must go with all due haste, Margot. You must make him tell you what he is about and then come back to me.”

Margot stepped away from her father. She needed to breathe, to think. “If it is true, he won’t tell me, Pappa. He despises me. I’ve not had a word from him in three years.”

“And whose fault is that?” Bryce said snidely.

“You’d best hope that he tells you,” her father said. “You cannot imagine the tragedy that will befall this family if you fail.” He caught her arm, made her turn around to face him once more. “You are our only hope. Do you understand?”

“I don’t understand any of it!” Margot exclaimed. “I cannot believe that Arran would do such a thing. And even if he has, he won’t tell me, I assure you—”

Bryce suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her around to face him, squeezing hard. “Then you’d best determine how to extract it from him. Spy if you must, lie if you must—we’ve got everything riding on this. Everything! So you’d best go and please your husband, Margot. Keep your mouth shut, do what you are wed to do, and open your legs and give the man what is his right.”

“Bryce! That’s enough!” Knox said, and pushed Bryce off Margot as she tried to expel the breath caught in her throat.

Now Margot shuddered at that memory. Her father and Bryce didn’t care at all about her feelings in this, no more than when they’d arranged her marriage to Mackenzie. Once again she argued and pleaded, but her father wouldn’t even look at her.

Knox was the only one to soothe her. He’d come to her after that wretched arguing had depleted her and filled her with despair. “You know that I will miss you desperately,” he said fondly.