He had been seriously considering it for a moment, but her words entirely shattered any moment they were having. Emrys dropped his hands from both her arm and her waist and laughed aloud. A baby! As though he wanted one, either. He supposed he couldn't blame her for thinking about it, because it was something that he considered often when he engaged in such trysts. He preferred not to use condoms, if he could avoid it, which was why he mostly slept with married women — if anything did happen he would have preferred not to have been on the hook for the consequences, like his oldest brother always seemed to be. He doubted that Miss Scrimgeour's remark had arisen from an abundance of caution in trying to establish an ongoing liaison, though — more likely it was ignorance of what men and women actually did together that produced children. If she thought she was in any danger of him doing anything of the sort in a hallway during a dinner party — well, she was either very confused about how things happened, or else had a very low opinion of his self-restraint.

"No, I don't imagine you do," he said, still chuckling as he turned to head back towards the dining room. "You're not the one who gets into trouble, are you?" he teased, referring to her sister.