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.

Quentin's life had certainly taken an unexpected turn in his middling years there was no denying that. He supposed that it wasn't unusual for a lord of his age to take a younger wife, though Claire was older than the norm for that sort of thing. For him, romance and marriage had been concerns for others. He had been happy living his life as a bachelor and adventurer and the sudden shift to family man was one he was still somewhat struggling with. The fact Claire was willing to travel with him did balm that somewhat, though they'd had to delay such plans while she was pregnant but now that their son was getting older he was already in the process of planning another voyage.

A son, that was still a strange thing to realize he had. Maxwell Arjun Lerato North, named after Quentin's grandfather and two good friends he'd made while exploring India and Africa respectively, was a spritely and curious young man that had inherited his mother's hair. The boy was a delight, at least when he wasn't fussing, and Quentin had found quite a bit of joy in the act of playing and caring for the babe. He'd also found joy in spending time with his wife, and his family enough of a balm to his soul to help alleviate the lack of travel and having to deal with his cousins who were all upset now that they were no longer going to be able to pick over the family estate if he died 'tragically' while adventuring. They'd become far more annoying in the last few months, complaining that marrying an American heiress was hardly suitable for the Lord of Edenhall and him repeatedly reminding them that their opinions held no weight on his decisions did nothing to help.

When Claire found Quentin, he was in his study. He had a map of the African continent that had recently been updated. The source of the Nile river had finally been found, much to his annoyance since he'd wanted to do so, but at the very least he planned on heading in and seeing it for himself. Preparations already underway for them to head out that way in the next few months. He didn't look up when she entered, his focus on what he was doing as he made small marks on the map and checked a report about the successful journey. The idiots had nearly died of disease which was what they got for not bringing along repellent for the bugs.

She gave a tired stretch of her muscles as she moved to approach her husband. "Max is doing much better today. The pox are almost healed and I think it is safe for him to travel now." Claire stopped and looked at the map he was bent over, a somewhat lewd thought crossing her mind since it wasn't hard to do around Quentin at all. But she made her feelings on THAT subject clear pretty much every night they could get their hands on each other. She only needed to look at him a specific way by this point for him to be aware of her thoughts. She no longer blushed either. Her lewd thoughts aside, she was more interested at the moment in what was going through his mind. "How are the plans going for our voyage?"

"Fantastic, I thought he was looking better this morning. He is a strong little soldier." Quentin said with an indulgent chuckle. He did tend to dote on the boy, though there were perhaps some fairly lofty expectations being placed on the child's shoulders already. Something that Claire would have to work to mitigate, Quentin didn't mean the boy ill but he tended to think big when he should start thinking small.

"As for the plans for the trip, they are going quite well. We should be able to make sail before the end of the season, and arrive in Africa as we hit fall before the winter seas become impassable. If all goes according to plan, we should be returned to London before the summer of next year." They'd be away for a few months but that was how he preferred things, he chaffed at being so close to civilization for so long.

"Yes," she said, agreeing with him. Unbeknownst to him, she was already a buffer when it came to their child. Max was growing into a strapping young child and would soon start crawling if he had his way. He was already rolling about and there were teeth, and... well... She was a doting mother as much as Quentin was a doting father. There were times since the baby came that she got lost in being a mother, sitting in a rocking chair as she gazed down at his face that nearly replicated his father's. He'd be a red haired version of Quentin in his manhood, and she was proud that she gave him the flaming hair.

"I cannot wait for the trip. It's been much too long." She didn't know the plans for the baby, if they were leaving him in the country with the servants, or if they were taking the child with them. It was, after all, a dangerous thing for a boy his age to be going to Africa, right? Of course she would protect him, but could she keep him away from the rails when he learned to walk?

For the moment, however, she would focus on the map. Of course, that didn't stop her from her usual descent into his lap, and then her arms made that familiar loop around his shoulders as she rested her forehead against his neck. "I should probably check with the modiste about the clothes I ordered for this trip." She was used to the heat, so she knew exactly what to buy for the voyage, clothes based more off of function than fashion. She was pretty fashionable but at least she was fine with the uglier things like practical wear.

"Hrmmm, I am uncertain as of yet if that is a good idea or not. It is certainly a risk if we bring him along, but I also don't think it is good for him to be separated from us for an extended period of time. But I have faith in our ability to keep him safe."

Quentin said, which was his way of essentially making it clear where his thoughts lay. He wanted to bring Max with them but if she thought it was a poor idea he would relent to the mother's wishes in this matter. He was aware of why they shouldn't do so after all and was aware enough that even their best efforts couldn't counter fate. But if they were to bow to such risks, why do anything at all?

"The sooner it is done, the sooner it is no longer a worry. Though you do have some time."

The man said as she settled herself into his lap and he found his attention moved from his maps to his young wife entirely. Even his focus was not able to last through such a bold maneuver even if it was a familiar one. His arms wrapped around her waist as he met her gaze with a gentle grin. He had become quite fond of Claire despite his initial reluctance to ever take a wife, but he'd thus far found her quite agreeable to his lifestyle.

She peered at Quentin and said, "I am sure everything is on schedule. She was expedient with my wedding clothes and the things I needed for Max. I am sure this is scandalous, but I've taken the liberty of shocking the Dickens out of her by asking for trousers." Claire laughed that warm laugh of hers and then nuzzled her face against his neck, looping her arms around her husband. She did not care at all if someone walked in on them while they cuddled, she had no shame in loving him as she did.

The redhead lifted her face then and gazed into his eyes. "I cannot wait to have another grand adventure with the three of us. I am sure our boy will be just fine if we bring him. I just worry about him learning to walk on ship, but perhaps it's better that he learn to use his sea legs before he learns to walk on dry land." She chuckled.

The revelation of scandal got a snort of amusement from Quentin as he said with an amused smirk. "How dare you ask for practical apparel. Honestly, fashion is naught but a hindrance to practicality and the sooner the world recognizes that and lets people dress as they wish, the better in my opinion." Though in truth Quentin very much doubted they'd ever reach that point since humanity always seemed to be obsessed with appearances.

"I am eager to get moving as well. I feel so stifled being in one place for as long as we have been." It was something she had no doubt noticed. Quentin was visibly restless whenever he didn't have something to occupy his time.

"Indeed, darlin'," she drawled out and touched his bewhiskered face. She loved that he hardly gave a care about the sexy bit of scruff on his face, she found it rather endearing and dashing. Baby-faced men held no sway with her, that was obvious by the way she mooned over Quentin openly. "I would rather not be on a ship again without trousers, especially on windy days. I would rather not share views of my calves in such a manner toward your crew, my calves are for your eyes only." She was making a joke about it knowing full well his crew would probably not pay her much attention in that regard considering she was Quentin's wife.

She grinned and then kissed his cheek, "Ahh, and I took the liberty of making sure that an extra staff hand was hired in the kitchen to prepare for the trip. She's been drying and preserving food to send with us and she will be coming with us in order to purchase things for the household such as spices. I fully intend on taking advantage of the shopping to enrich your estate. I've also taken care of making sure most of the staff will be settled in other accommodations for employment while we are away. I am sure we can get by with a skeleton staff at home to keep the house in order in our absence. Recommendations were made for everyone who needed them. Things are in order for us to leave any time now."

"Of course, I have no idea what I would do if someone else saw your calves," Quentin said with mock seriousness in his tone. There were parts of her that he would agree should be for his eyes only but the calves didn't number among them. Though, said calves were rather lovely and his hand drifted down to gently stroke them which was a fairly easy thing for him to manage with the way she was perched on his lap.

When she revealed the preparations she'd already put into place he gave her a surprised look. It shouldn't have surprised him since overseeing the household staff was within her preview as Lady Edenhall, never the less, he hadn't given that idea much thought since he was used to handling everything himself. "You certainly are a wonder my love, that will save me having to procure them from the outfitter."

Which took an item off of his to-do list, indeed, that had been the next matter upon it so it appeared as though his afternoon had just become free. That thought led the hand that was currently stroking Claire's calf to slowly start to drift up toward her thigh. The big man leaned in and pressed his lips lightly to her neck as he murmured softly. "With you having already handled that, I find myself needing to add a new item to my to-do list. Any suggestions?"