The Belle Epoque had been the Stuart family's town residence in Tirisano's capital of Itana for several centuries, and over those centuries it had accrued a certain notoriety along with its many stories of derring-do. But over the past few decades, the best stories that came from the Belle Epoque were about the lavish parties that were held there - invitation only, and even more exclusive now that the Stuart line had married into the royal line. A year after she was married, Keira Stuart had presided over two such parties - Christmas and New Year - and with the approach of the Duke's birthday, was planning a third. Because of this, Duke Oliver had retired to his estate in the country, leaving James and Keira alone in town to enjoy each other as the preparations for his fiftieth birthday were laid down. The beautiful mansion house was never quiet during the day, and there were no end of duties to see to, but somehow, James and Keira were making it work. It was a promising beginning for them.

Today, however, Keira had been out to lunch with the ladies of the city, and came home rolling her eyes. "James?" she called out as she crossed the wide entrance hall. "Love of my life, my darling, my one true reason for being, where are you?"

"In here!" he called from the study, where he was going over some official paperwork of one kind or another. Though he wasn't yet a duke, there was no lack of work to be done as his father groomed him for the position that would one day be his. Still, now that Keira was home, work could wait a little while, once he was finished looking over this one last dossier.

Leaving her jacket with the girl who was, in theory, her ladiesmaid, Keira made her way to James' study, not bothering to knock as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Oh, and what?s got you so crinkled at the brow?" she asked teasingly. "It can't possibly be worse than spending three hours with so-called ladies who wouldn't know poverty if they were dropped in the middle of Sanmarkon in nothing but their drawers."

Besides the usual office paraphernalia and papers cluttering the desk, there was a half-empty cup of tea and what remained of a plate of cookies. "Just going over Father's holdings," he said, distracted for another moment as he finished scribbling something down before closing the folder and setting his pen aside to smile up at her. "Have a nice outing" he asked, with the irritatingly handsome smile of his, despite the sarcasm.

"Oh, it was strawberries and cream, as always," she drawled, matching his sarcasm for her own. Perching on the corner of his desk nearest to him, she smiled, rolling her eyes. "Rhona was there," she admitted, which was all he really needed to know. Her sisters had become a little more civil since being put in their place by the Prince last year, but bad habits were creeping back in. "According to her, there's no need for a fundraiser at all because every child in the orphanage has a family to go to. She seems to think that the police can be used to track these fictional people down and force them to take in children."

"Pardon me for saying so, but your sister has never been the brightest bulb in the box," he said, bluntly and without worry that she might take offense. It was no secret that he wasn't terribly fond of her sisters, nor they of him.

"She's not even bright enough to get into the box." Keira laughed softly, dropping her hand to catch his, teasing her fingers over his palm. "And how is the intrepid earl this afternoon' Ate a healthy and nutritious lunch, I see."

He snorted in response to her comment. "That was not lunch. That was a snack," he said, turning to face her as she caught hold of his hand. "I can think of a much tastier snack," he remarked with a smirk as one hand found it way beneath the hem of her dress and slid its way up against her thigh.

"Oh, can you now?" she laughed as his hand found its way up her skirt. "Are you proposing to ravish your wife on your desk now, my lord?" Not that she seemed to be complaining; they'd always had a passionate relationship, even when they hadn't been talking to each other.

"There's a lock on the door," he remarked, as if that was answer enough. If he locked the door, that meant he didn't want to be disturbed, and the staff didn't need to know what went on behind closed doors. His hand lingered on her thigh, fingers teasing her flesh but not wandering any farther.

Keira grinned, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. "If I didn't know better," she murmured, rising to lock the door securely, "I'd think you've been paying closer attention to my calendar than I have. That, or you just can't stand being half a city away from me for more than half an hour."

He smiled as she went to lock the door. "You were gone longer than half an hour, love," he pointed out helpfully, while he waited for her to make her way back to him. If she wasn't pregnant by now it wasn't from lack of trying. On the contrary, marriage had done nothing to put a damper on their sex life.

"Well, this is true," she agreed, her smile still bright as she sauntered back to where he sat. "But I don't think I can leave a Guild of Good Ladies' luncheon early with the excuse that my husband will be utterly desolate if I'm not naked within twenty minutes."

"Such a good lady," he teased. "I think I prefer it when you're being bad," he added with a smirk as he drew her onto his lap. With his father at the country estate, they were free to take advantage of each other almost whenever and wherever they wished. Almost. "Am I really your reason for being?" he asked as he left a trail of kisses against her neck.

Still laughing, she eased into his lap, fingertips undoing his shirt as he teased her neck with his lips. "Do you really expect me to answer that when you're ..." She bit her lip, arching closer as he found a particularly sensitive spot. "....when you're doing your best to make me incoherent?"

"I'll take that as answer enough," he replied, both hands finding their way beneath her skirt and up her thighs, while his lips continued to tease her neck, moving ever lower while his hands moved dangerously higher.

She shivered happily in his arms, tipping her head away only to return and catch his lips with her own. If he didn't believe she loved him by now, he never would, but she wasn't afraid of that. It had taken too long for them to admit to those feelings in the first place. "Are you aiming for a boy or a girl?" she teased, murmuring the words against his lips as she squeaked softly with the passage of his hands.

"I'm not aiming for anything at the moment," he said. It would take more than a groping and a few kisses to make a baby. "Does my lady have a preference?" he asked, as he moved from the chair, shoving the papers aside, to deposit her rump on his desk.

There was no need to be gentle with her, as evidenced in the way his wife hooked her arms and legs about him to pull him close the moment she had a secure seat on the desk. "Who says we have to only have one?" she grinned back to him cheekily. A stray glance to the window suddenly had her laughing and blushing all at once. A very embarrassed looking young man was attempting to clean the windows without actually seeing what was going on in the study at all.

Keira's giggles described her arc through the air, cut off as the air rushed from her lungs on impact with the firm mattress, her legs flailing about as she grinned breathlessly up at her husband. "You are entirely too fond of throwing me around, you know," she pointed out, kicking her shoes off, heedless of where they ended up.

"I am too fond of a lot of things when it comes to you," he said, shedding his shirt and tossing it wherever before he pounced on the bed to properly stalk his wife, like a tiger on the prowl.

"Tiger, tiger, burning bright ..." she teased, scrambling backwards as he landed on the bed, oblivious to the ominous creak from the bedframe. No doubt when it had been bought a few hundred years ago, it had never been intended for this kind of use.

Oblivious to the state of the bed and whether it might hold up to their over-active sex life, Jamie feigned a growl, encouraged by Keira's teasing. Closer and closer he prowled, until he had her cornered, dragging her down onto the bed to attack her with his lips, teeth and tongue, while his hands worked at removing the rest of her clothing.

Anyone would think he had missed her during her outing, but there was little time for reflection on that part right now. Keira gave as good as she got - teeth, lips, tongue, hands, all working together to wrestle him playfully out of what little he still wore as he stripped her down to nothing in their mutual goal.

Of course, he had missed her. He missed her whenever they were apart, but they were adults and each had their own responsibilities. Still, getting reacquainted after a day apart was always an adventure. Before long, clothing was scattered across the floor of their room, and anyone who had the nerve to listen at the door would hear nothing but giggles and growls, eventually mixed with groans of pleasure.

Of course, the climax - as it were - was a little more ....robust than usual. With both husband and wife heedless of the warnings their antique bed was giving them, there was no lack of enthusiasm to bring them into the final straits. As two voices rose in sheer delight with one another, the bed gave a loud groan, and the braces broke, sending James and Keira tumbling down onto the floor in a cacophony of collapsing timbers.

Well, if the bed wasn't sturdy enough for a young couple with a very healthy, active sex life, it was probably time to trade it in for one that was. The racket was loud enough to cause a stir downstairs, where it probably sounded like a bomb had gone off over their heads. Jamie's first reaction was to protectively grab hold of Keira, and his second was to let loose with a flurry of curse words strong enough to make a sailor blush.

As the initial shock wore off, Keira found herself cradled protectively in James' arms, looking around at the settling linens and timbers, the occasional feather floating down. "Good grief," she snorted with laughter. "Did we cause an earthquake?"

As her eyes rose to James, the familiar green sparkling with loving amusement, there came the sound of several pairs of feet rushing along the corridor outside the suite, and a hand hammering on the door.

"Jamie! Lord James! Are you hurt?" That could only be Mr. Stanley, who had a good turn of speed when his lordship's family might be harmed.

"I told you it was so good the Earth moved," he teased, blue eyes dancing with mischief. The bed was broken, but he was rather enjoying holding her in his arms. He brushed a feather away from her face, muttering again as he heard footsteps rushing down the corridor followed by a fist hammering on the door. "Fine, Stanley!" he called back, reaching to toss a sheet over them both. "We're both fine, but uh ..." He paused, trying to hold back a chuckle. "I'm afraid the bed has seen better days."

"The bed?" There was a moment of fierce whispering on the other side of the door, from which they heard the very distinctive tone of Mrs. Fraser's laughter. "All right, yes, now shush, you ....Is there anything needs doing, my lord?" the butler called through the door, clearly concerned more about James and Keira than about any damage to the bed. "Should we make up another suite for you to retire to while this one is put to rights?"

"You are fine, aren't you, Keira?" Jamie asked his wife in a quiet voice while the servants debated what to do about the problem. "Yes, please! One with a sturdy bed!" Jamie called back, unashamed. He only hoped his father wasn't angry when he learned about the broken heirloom.

Still laughing, albeit softer now, Keira nodded in answer to James' quiet query. "A little shaken, but I'll live," she promised him softly. "We should probably get up so they can see the mess we've made."

From outside the door came the sound of Stanley handing out his orders. "Very good, sir," he called back to them. "I'll send the girl along when there's a suitable bed made up for yourself and her ladyship."

"Sorry to alarm you, Stanley," James called back, before whispering to Keira, "Why' They'll see it soon enough." He winced as he tried to move. "If you could just move your elbow away from my ribs," he said, tangled up with her worse than a game of Twister.

"Very good, sir."

As Stanley moved away, Earl and Countess Stuart began the interesting wriggle that was getting untangled from one another and out of the collapsed bed without any further injury. Keira yelped as she twisted her arm out from under his ribs.

"Darling, I know I don't have a penis, but your knee there is still quite uncomfortable," she pointed out with a faint grin, her arms now stretched up above her head to free him up as much as she could.

"Sorry, love," he apologized as they untangled themselves from each other, and carefully picked their way out of the collapsed bed. Jamie drew the sheet around Keira's shoulders, but couldn't help the smirk that had appeared on his face, despite the bumps and bruises. "My father is not going to be too pleased with us."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and fetch a positive on tomorrow's test," she smirked along with him, looking around at the devastation they had caused. "He can't get too angry if we tell him the bed was lost in the cause of grandchildren."

"Bloody thing's been in the family for centuries." Not the mattress, of course, but the bed itself was an antique, an heirloom - or so he'd been told. "I'm not sure I want to think about how many of my ancestors have been conceived in it."

"Perhaps we can have it restored," Keira suggested, extracting the blanket from the disaster to wrap it about James' waist. "There must be craftsmen in the city who would leap at such a challenge." She certainly hoped so; history was not to be sniffed at, and they would never live it down if the bed could not be saved.

"I don't think we will be sleeping in it again," he said, though what they'd been doing could hardly be called sleeping. "Perhaps we should give it to Josh and Dru," he remarked, that mischievous, dimpled grin back on his face. He lifted his arms so that she could wrap the blanket around his waist, though he was perfectly capable of donning a pair of pants.

"In pieces?" Keira laughed, tucking the blanket secure about his waist before turning her attention to the sheet he had wrapped about her shoulders. "I just hope this union business is sorted out before they have to be called home. The Prince can't intervene himself, but Dru or Josh could."

Jamie chuckled at her question. "No, after it's repaired. We'll only break it again," he reasoned, believing Josh and Dru would treat the thing with more respect than they would, but maybe they'd just put it in a rarely used guest room instead. "Which side are you on?" he asked, not just out of curiosity, but genuinely valuing her opinion on such matters.

While she was darting into the bathroom, he gathered up the discarded clothing from about the room and tossed them into a laundry basket, minus her underwear. He couldn't remember where those had ended up, forgetting they were probably right in his pocket where she'd put them. He arched a curious brow at her as she rejoined him, spying the box she had just slipped into her pocket. "It would work more in our favor if we have, but I hardly think we'll know by morning."

"No, but I haven't taken one for a month," she pointed out sweetly. "And we have been rather busy during the important part of my cycle, haven't we?" She winked at him, laughing as she reached for his hand once again. "Come on, let's risk being disapproved of by everyone over the age of fifty in the house."

It was no secret that their love life was an active one, and Jamie couldn't argue with the fact that news of a pregnancy would please his father, not to mention the rest of the household. What Josh and Dru might think of it was another matter, but Jamie hoped they'd be happy for them. After all, Jamie and Keira were older and by all rights, should be the first to have a child. As far as the household disapproving of them being in their pajamas, Jamie could give a fig. "I'll sneeze if it makes you feel better," he volunteered, wondering if feigning illness would go over better than just feeling lazy.

She laughed, moving barefoot out into the corridor. Thankfully, they both knew exactly where the Silk Suite was - it was usually reserved for important guests, but tonight, it was all theirs. "So long as we don't break another bed, I doubt anyone will object," she pointed out, aware that there were lingering servants just waiting to get into their suite and survey the damage.

"You realize we're going to be the object of gossip for at least the next few days," he whispered back, as he followed her out of the room, pausing a moment to snag his favorite pillow and tuck it beneath an arm.

"What's a little gossip to us?" she pointed out. "Even if it makes its way into the columns, it's just a healthy reflection on the fact that we're almost a year married and still very involved with one another. Not even the most spiteful person can say you're bored with me, or that I'm distant from you, not with this evidence."

"Bored?" he echoed with a laugh. "I'll be bored with you when I'm too old to know a bed is for something other than sleeping," he remarked with a grin, though that wasn't likely to happen for many, many years yet. As they passed a pair of maids on their way to assess the damage, he let go of a great and very fake sneeze.

Keira wasn't the only one who laughed at that beautiful sneeze, though the maids were discreet enough to speed up and try to muffle their giggles. "You're the one who encourages the gossip," Keira accused him fondly, turning to take the door into the Silk Suite. "And they love you for it. If we can't laugh at ourselves, then what?s the point of us?"

He smiled a greeting at the maids before following Keira into the Silk Suite, which was in some ways even nicer than their own. "Do you know in all the years I've lived here, I've never slept in this bed" It's for V.I.P.s, you know, which, apparently, I am not. I used to come in here when I was a boy and bounce on the bed," he added with a cheeky grin.

Keira snorted with laughter, turning to lock the door behind them. "No bouncing this time," she told him, waggling a finger in his direction as she slipped her robe off once again. "We've already destroyed one priceless heirloom today."

"Well, this one is not quite so priceless," he commented with a grin as he, too, drew his robe off. From the look in his eyes, the chances were strong that he was going to pounce her again, unless she did something to stop him.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Laughing, Keira held out her hands - as though that would stop him if he was determined. "It's my turn to play," she informed her husband, eyebrows raised. "You don't let me do it very often, you know, and I think you owe me."

"I owe you?" he echoed, lifting his brows quizzically, though her statement did give him temporary pause. "For what? Breaking the bed" Making you scream?" he guessed, with a rather smug grin on his face. Whether she'd screamed because of the bed or something else, he did not say.

She pointed at the bed, smirking. "You're always in charge," she told him. "I think it's my turn to show you what can happen if you let go of a little of that dominance for a while. Just this once, and then you can make your mind up about whether or not you want it to happen again."

"Not going to don leather and a whip, are you, pet?" he asked, half teasing. He wouldn't have put it past her, actually, but if he'd wanted a meek wife, he would have looked elsewhere. Keira was one of the only people he knew who had always been able to put him in his place.

"Oh, I don't think I have to," she teased, stepping close to smooth her hands beneath his robe. "Unless you require punishing, that is. Do you hunger for the sharp crack of the whip, love, or will teeth do in a pinch?"

Jamie winced at the idea of a whip. Adventurous as he was, he was more fond of pleasure than pain. "So long as you don't bite too hard," he told her, all too aware of the exploration of her hands beneath his robe.

"Have I ever?" Her question didn't give him much room to talk back, her lips finding his as soon as her words were spoken. No, Keira didn't often exert her own feminine authority here in private, but James had never found any reason to complain about it yet. Lips, teeth, hands, tongue ....they were all skillful and loving, gentle, and thoroughly determined to melt him into an electrified puddle of goo.

He didn't have much chance to reply to that question, letting her prove the answer for herself as she returned the favor. If asked, he probably wouldn't have used quite those words to describe the effect she had on him, but he was definitely pliant to her ministrations, allowing her to have her fun as long as she wished and so long her teeth didn't get too carried away. The remainder of the afternoon was spent thusly in private, between playful jousts for dominion and quiet interludes of whispers and kisses.

The afternoon, the night, and the morning, too. It could never be said that the Earl and Countess of Roslae had anything but the deepest affection for one another, and given the poorly masked laughter of the workmen who arrived to take the destroyed bed to a workshop for repairs, no doubt it would be gossip for days to come. Dinner and breakfast was provided by giggly, embarrassed maids, trays taken away by equally embarrassed, but far less giggly, footmen. And still James and Keira lazed together, simply enjoying one another's company in a manner they didn't often indulge in. But there were certain calls of nature that had to be attended to, and one such call had just come to an end.

Keira leaned in the doorway of the bathroom, the contents of that little box in her hand as she sought James' gaze with a smile that was half-wary, half-pleased.