This House Is a Home
Lucien stood at the front porch of his old family home and stared for a moment. He couldn't quite go inside yet. It seemed strange to go in and not call out Jean's name and wait to hear the sound of her shoes on the hardwood floor, walking so capably as she always did. She wouldn't be there to greet him. And he didn't quite want to go into the house if she wasn't there. It wasn't home without her. That had been made very clear when she had moved out nearly two weeks before. But this would be the first time in a week that he'd been home, and especially now, it felt so odd to be without her.
He did go inside, as he knew it was silly to stand outside, missing her. Mattie and Charlie would be around. He had missed them. And he had his work, of course.
Work came swiftly, as soon as he walked in the door. As always, as soon as a suspicious death came around, all other concerns were put aside. He could throw himself into solving a mystery to preoccupy himself from missing Jean.
Ah, Jean. Even while working, in the quiet moments, he found his thoughts drifting back to her. Holding her hand on that bus to Adelaide, his arm comfortably around her, keeping her snug against his chest. Lucien could still smell the clean, sweet scent of her hair. He hadn't realized before that moment that it was, in fact, his favorite scent in the world. It meant that Jean was close.
When Matthew was run down by that car, Lucien had felt fear like he hadn't experienced since his time in the service. He had hoped that returning to Ballarat would mean he never needed to do desperate operations like that ever again. And on Matthew, a man he'd known most of his life who had always been a friend to him. All Lucien had wanted to do when he'd set the leg and felt the faint pulse was hear Jean say, "Well done, Lucien!" in that very specific way she sometimes did. He would have given anything to sit on the sofa in the drawing room and have a glass of scotch with her sitting nearby. Instead, he'd slept in an uncomfortable chair in Matthew's hospital room for fear something might happen during the night.
Eager to get back to work and not be left with his thoughts, Lucien had allowed that Beryl Routledge, that woman race car driver, to drive him out to the middle of nowhere. Their conversation had yielded quite good information that was sure to be very useful to the case, but the way she was trying to flirt with him made Lucien wildly uncomfortable.
Upon returning to the hospital to check in on Matthew, Lucien was greeted with the most glorious sight. That pretty brown hair and the precise silhouette of a smart jacket over a dress were unmistakable. She turned, and Jean's turquoise eyes met his. The bustle of the hospital around him slowed and faded away. She smiled and his knees went a little weak.
They walked towards one another. Jean reached out to take his hand. "Mattie rang me," she explained. They didn't need any more words than that.
Too quickly, Matthew's doctor interrupted them with the bad news. He would recover but he would never walk unassisted again. They'd found who'd run down Matthew and Charlie, but the killer was still unapprehended. When Alice met them in the hallway with new information, Lucien's focus was right back on the case. He gently put his hand on the small of Jean's back to lead her to his car and drive them both home.
They didn't speak on the drive. He was thinking about the case. And with Jean beside him, things felt back to normal. He didn't miss her when she was right there. She followed him to the front door, and they were greeted happily by Mattie. Lucien would have allowed the ladies to catch up, but Jean had insisted on coming with him to the race grounds for his further investigation. He was pleased.
The strangest sensation of contentment came over Lucien as he lay on the ground beneath that car, Jean lying beside him. She had always been an exemplary sounding board for him in the past; she was by far the smartest woman he had ever met, and heads and shoulders above most of the policemen he'd worked with. But rarely had she ever come with him on an investigation. And now that she was there, it seemed strange that she hadn't done this more. They were a natural fit in more ways than one. Lucien felt foolish for not having acted on that realization earlier.
It ended up being a very good thing that Jean had come with him, as he probably would have gotten crushed under a car if she hadn't hit the murderer with a wrench and rescued Lucien.
After the arrest, they went home for Lucien to rest and recover from what was sure to be severe bruising on his chest. Jean watched him drive with a worried expression on her face. She helped him into the house, though he could walk fine on his own. As always, it was a comfort to be taken care of by her. She led him to sit on the sofa and turned to go make a pot of tea.
"Jean, wait a moment." Lucien realized that Mattie was at work and Charlie was on his way to Melbourne to stay with his family while he recuperated. Lucien and Jean were alone for the first time since their return to Ballarat.
Sitting down beside him, Jean worriedly asked, "Is there something else I can get for you?"
"No, I really am fine. Nothing a little rest won't fix. No, I just wanted…" Lucien took a deep breath, which actually did pain him a bit to do. "I'm just very glad we're home, Jean."
She looked around the room, realizing that it was the first time she'd been in this room in quite some time. It had only been a few weeks, but she had missed it terribly. "I am too."
"When will you be going back to Adelaide?" he asked, trying to brace himself for the disappointment.
"Well, Ruby and Christopher are coping with little Amelia much better, now that I've gotten her to sleep through the night. And I never did end up using that loan to buy a place of my own there," she pointed out.
"That is true. You were staying with Christopher the whole time you were there."
Jean searched Lucien's face, hoping to see the expression she needed from him. She saw that hope in his eyes and she knew that her farewell to Christopher had been for longer than a visit to see Matthew. "Things are quite different now than when I left," she said quietly.
"Yes, they certainly are," he agreed. "For the better, I think."
She smiled and looked down at her lap, hiding her blush. "Yes, I think you're quite right."
"Jean, will you stay?"
Their eyes locked and Jean felt her stomach flutter. "Yes, of course," she answered.
He moved closer to her on the sofa and took one of her hands in his. He did quite like holding her hand. She smiled, her heart beating faster at his touch. Lucien suddenly felt quite nervous. But he pushed the nerves aside and leaned in close to her. Jean's eyes closed as their lips met, softly at first, and soon with more fervor. She let go of his hand only so she could wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to her. Lucien grasped her waist, gently and respectfully, trying to maintain some decorum as their mouths moved against one another. He felt Jean start to loosen her hold on him, and he immediately pulled away, ending their embrace.
Lucien cleared his throat. "Yes, well, may I say, welcome home, Jean."
"It is very good to be home," she replied. "And, I do believe that was quite a good first kiss in our home."
The nerves made sense now. He had kissed her many times before when they were in Adelaide, stealing whatever time they could when Jean could take time away from her family. But that was all the way in Adelaide, when they had a whole week away from work and prying eyes. This was different. This was in their home. It was Lucien's home, but Jean's as well. They had always shared it since his return to Ballarat, though now they would share it in a new way. This house was no longer a place where they just lived, he as a doctor and she as his housekeeper. This house was now the home where they would truly start their lives together.
Jean watched as Lucien processed everything. He was so brilliant as a doctor, but he was often quite slow when it came to more personal matters. Most men were like that. She smiled and gave him another quick peck on the lips. "I'll go make a pot of tea now. And I'll see if there's anything in the kitchen I can make for dinner."
It took a moment for Lucien to realize what she'd said. "Yes, thank you, Jean," he called after her. He sat back on the sofa and made himself comfortable. His injuries were demanding he rest. And Lucien smiled, happy to be home.