06-19-2023, 08:24 PM
Claire had been pregnant for what seemed like much too long for her liking. Quentin had made her his wife before she began to show, and her parents had given respect for him making her an honest woman, even started warming up to their daughter's new husband with quite the amount of awe. It wasn't long before they returned to sea to head back to New Orleans, but her mother has fawned over her as much as she could when she could do so, the gowns all sewn and put in the nursery, toys purchased, nursemaid interviewed and hired... things were in order for the day their baby came to the world... And it was done in quiet. Gareth Scott, it seemed, was quite occupied.
The birth had not been difficult as she brought a healthy son into the world. She let his father choose his name since the boy was his heir and would take over the Lordship once her husband was no longer around. And she loved her son, for he was the spitting image of his father but with her fiery hair.
He was old enough now to sit up on his own, and she found every opportunity she could to be a good mother to him. At the moment, the chunky little fellow gazed up at her and listened as she sang another song to him. There was nothing but adoration peering upward, his chubby fist stuffed into his toothless mouth. And then the song came to an end and she murmured, "I didn't think I would ever love someone as much as I love you and your pa." And then she leaned in and kissed him across his downy brow, unable to help but to smell the oat bath he had been given for itch since he was recovering from a newer pox, the chicken pox it seemed... one of the folks who worked at the manse but not lived there had contracted it from his own son, and there had been an outbreak but it was not as bad as it could have been. Nobody had died, thankfully, and all were recovered for the most part, and most activity was back to normal.
She had suffered it as a child, though it wasn't named as chicken pox until more recently, but she understood that it could have been fatal for her boy. He was hale and hearty, his fevers gone, it was just residual itchiness.
The boy fell asleep and she stood, moving over to his little bed and placing him in the crib before caressing his cherubic face and then slowly, and as quietly as she could, backed out of the room. Then she went in search of her husband.
The birth had not been difficult as she brought a healthy son into the world. She let his father choose his name since the boy was his heir and would take over the Lordship once her husband was no longer around. And she loved her son, for he was the spitting image of his father but with her fiery hair.
He was old enough now to sit up on his own, and she found every opportunity she could to be a good mother to him. At the moment, the chunky little fellow gazed up at her and listened as she sang another song to him. There was nothing but adoration peering upward, his chubby fist stuffed into his toothless mouth. And then the song came to an end and she murmured, "I didn't think I would ever love someone as much as I love you and your pa." And then she leaned in and kissed him across his downy brow, unable to help but to smell the oat bath he had been given for itch since he was recovering from a newer pox, the chicken pox it seemed... one of the folks who worked at the manse but not lived there had contracted it from his own son, and there had been an outbreak but it was not as bad as it could have been. Nobody had died, thankfully, and all were recovered for the most part, and most activity was back to normal.
She had suffered it as a child, though it wasn't named as chicken pox until more recently, but she understood that it could have been fatal for her boy. He was hale and hearty, his fevers gone, it was just residual itchiness.
The boy fell asleep and she stood, moving over to his little bed and placing him in the crib before caressing his cherubic face and then slowly, and as quietly as she could, backed out of the room. Then she went in search of her husband.
