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She heard him smile. “About bairns.”

“Bairns?”

“Babies.”

She pushed herself up to peer at Griffin. “I know what bairns are. I am wondering why you are thinking of them?”

“Is it no’ obvious, wife?” His tone was teasing, and his touch remained gentle. When he tapped her abdomen, she realized what he meant. “All this bedsport the last few weeks…”

She sucked in a breath. “Griffin, I am too old to become pregnant.”

“Ye’re—what? Thirty-two? Mary was aulder than that when Rupert was born.”

The thought of another baby—an idea both wonderful and terrifying all at once—was pushed aside by that somber reminder. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“Do you miss her terribly?”

He didn’t answer for a long while, and when he did, he didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Mary and I were…compatible. I didnae love her, although she likely deserved better than me. She handled our home, and didnae particularly enjoy my touches. I thought we were happy, in the same day-to-day sort of way our parents existed. But…now I see neither of us understood what that meant.”

“I am sorry,” she whispered.

“Aye, I’m sorry she’s gone, as well, and I’m sorry she never had the chance for this.” His arm tightened around her just before he rolled up on one elbow, which pushed her onto her back. “I’m sorry I wasnae able to make her scream my name in bed.”

Felicity’s lips twitched. “As I recall, you were the one screaming my name.”

“Screaming? Och, nay.” He lowered his lips to the upper swell of her breast. “I dinnae scream.”

“You most certainly—oh.” She sucked in a breath as his tongue flicked across her nipple. “What are you doing?”

“Distracting ye from depressing thoughts. Is it working?”

She curled her fingers through his hair. “Well, yes, husband. But I think it is important to discuss the past—” She bit off her words with another gasp as his teeth grazed her tender bud.

“Flick,” he said seriously, apparently to her nipple, “this is our wedding night. I love ye, and ye love me. The past is behind us, where it belongs. Now, will ye shut up and let me love ye?”

His fingers found her curls, and he began to tease her clitoris. She squirmed beneath his ministrations. “Well, Griffin?” she panted. “Which one is it?”

“Is what?”

“Do you want me to shut up, or to scream your name?”

In the firelight, she could see his grin. It was nothing short of wicked.

“Och, lass, I’ll have ye screaming in no time,” he vowed, as he lowered his mouth once more.

And he held true to that promise.