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"That's not a real drink," I say with genuine disdain. "It's orange soda."
"I'd like to try it sometime," Emery says, and Jamie nods her approval.
I grunt in disgust. "Donnae think I'll kiss ye after ye drink it."
Yet another yawn grips Emery.
"You two are so sweet," Jamie says, for no reason that I can see.
I cast her a sideways glance. "My wife would say I'm grumpy."
"She'd be right. I meant overall, the way you are together." Jamie absently rubs circles on the pillow she holds over her belly. "When will you have bairns?"
Coughing and sputtering, I just manage to keep from spilling my whisky.
"Bairns?" Emery asks.
Jamie gives her an impish smile. "Babies."
"Mind your own business," I snap.
Jamie tosses her pillow aside and hops off the sofa. "I'm for bed. You can go upstairs to your king-and-queen's bedroom and make all the noise you like. I can't hear a blessed thing down here."
I'm fair certain I make an exasperated face.
Jamie skips out of the room while humming "Scotland the Brave."
Once the sitting-room door clicks shut, Emery wanders over to the windows. She takes a seat on the wide sill of the middle window, the one closest to my chair. Her feet are bare, and her toenails are painted pink.
"Do you want kids?" she asks.
I don't sputter this time, mostly because I've just lifted the glass to my lips but haven't taken a sip yet. While I assess my wife over the glass's rim, I tap a finger on it. "Why do you ask?"
"Curiosity." She bends one leg and wraps both arms around her raised knee. "You're on your fourth marriage. Did you want kids with your ex-wives?"
While I swirl my whisky, I peer into the glass to avoid looking at her. "Doesn't matter."
"I'd like to know, please."
But you don't need to know.
Instead of saying that, I slouch into my chair and stretch out my legs, crossing my ankles. Maybe I'm feigning relaxation. And maybe I stare into my drink, not sipping it, simply to avoid Emery's gaze. "I tried with my first wife, Isobel, but it never happened. Lilias, my second wife, wanted to wait until she felt more settled in her position as a schoolteacher. She divorced me nineteen months later. Left me for someone else, and they had a baby. Una never wanted children, but she didn't tell me that until after we were married."
"That was rotten."
I shut my eyes and sigh. "I should've asked before marrying her. Turned out Una didn't want a bairn with me, but she was happy to have one with her next… partner."
Why am I telling her about that? Maybe she'll give up on this line of questioning. Aye, because Emery isn't stubborn at all.
"You haven't answered my question," she says. "Do you want children?"
I crack one eye open. "Leave it alone, Emery."
She watches me for a few seconds, then her mouth gapes open on a noisy yawn.
I toss back the last of my whisky, surge to my feet, and reach Emery in one stride. With a hand on the window frame, I slant in close enough I can feel her breaths tickling my lips. "Time for bed."
She slides off the windowsill. Hoisting herself onto her tiptoes, she leans in and tilts her head back to meet my gaze.
