Spoiling Lucien
Jean lay awake that Christmas night, her mind stuck on one particular thing Lucien had said.
"Jean, you're spoiling me!"
She had given him one simple present in the morning—a sweater she had been secretly knitting for him for months, despite the fact that it wouldn't be cold enough to wear it until winter came in June. And then later, she'd presented him with the calendar with their wedding date circled.
March 25th. She smiled to herself, still giddy with excitement. They were going to be married in exactly three months to the day. They had so much to organize and get ready. But that wasn't what was keeping her up.
"Jean, you're spoiling me!"
Just two small gifts on Christmas, and he thought she was spoiling him? Jean knew he was partially joking, exaggerating for the effect. But even so. Could it be that no one had ever spoiled him before? His mother had passed when he was very small. Lord knew Dr. Blake hadn't seen fit to spoil his son in the least. Mei Lin had never showered him with affection and gifts? Perhaps they hadn't had enough time before their life together was cut short. And after that…he was a spy and an army doctor before he'd come back to Ballarat. Come to her.
Jean decided to come up with something the very next day. No need to wait. She had all sorts of chores ahead of her on Boxing Day, but that didn't matter. Tomorrow would be all about spoiling Lucien. Really, properly spoiling him.
She woke up extremely early the next morning. It was slightly more difficult than it should have been due to the celebratory Christmas drinks she'd indulged in that now gave her a splitting headache. But Jean knew a spot of breakfast with an aspirin and some tea would fix her right up.
Dressing that morning also took more doing than usual. Jean had noticed her fiancé's reaction to some of the clothes she wore, and she decided that spoiling him should include wearing an outfit she knew he'd enjoy. The blouse was a bit tight and she normally would have worn it with a cardigan to mask it. But tucked into her slacks, she had to admit she looked quite fit. She fixed her hair just so and put on her makeup, smiling proudly at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, he was sure to like this.
Next came preparations for his day. Jean quickly made breakfast for herself and left some on the stove for Charlie and Matthew when they woke up. And for any of the guests who had stayed over with either of them. Jean would never say a word about it, but she certainly had noticed the frequency with which Rose and Alice would join them for breakfast in recent weeks.
Jean did a few other quick things as a little treat for Lucien before she fixed a tray to bring into his bedroom. Nothing spoiled a person like breakfast in bed, after all. She had butterflies as she stood outside his closed door. Entering his bedroom while he was sleeping was perhaps not the wisest decision. Especially with her dressed as she was, just for him. After all, she had just signed the forms with Father Emery. Nothing was really stopping her from being like Rose or Alice…
She put those thoughts right out of her head. It was breakfast, for goodness's sake! Hardly the time to be contemplating such things. With a determined nod to herself, Jean knocked softly on the bedroom door before quietly entering.
He lay sprawled out in the middle of the bed. Jean's first thought was that he'd need to learn to contain himself a bit if she'd be joining him there in three months. But she had a sneaking suspicion that he'd make room for her, and, more likely, fall asleep holding her in his arms every night. She pressed her lips together to keep from grinning too widely.
"Good morning, Lucien," she murmured gently. She deposited the tray on top of the dresser before coming to sit on the side of the bed next to him. Jean couldn't seem to resist pushing his unkempt hair off his forehead, letting her fingers trail over his cheeks and beard ever so lovingly.
He groaned at being woken. "I thought Christmas was yesterday," he said in a hoarse voice.
"It was, darling," she replied gently, unable to stop touching his adorable sleepy face.
"That's the only day of the year I get to wake up to presents. This must be some kind of wonderful dream instead." He was starting to wake up now, blinking his eyes open and looking at her with a lovesick smile.
"No dream. I just wanted to wake you up with breakfast in bed today." Jean gave him one final caress on his cheek before standing up and retrieving the tray.
He sat up, equally delighted and surprised with this development. "What on earth did I do to earn such a treat?"
"It has nothing to do with what you've earned, Lucien. I just wanted to treat you."
He was still confused. "But…why?"
Jean had a feeling he'd react this way. She sighed, "Because I love you, you silly man. Now enjoy your breakfast, and I'll be back later to get the tray."
"You're not going to eat with me?" He settled the tray on his lap and looked up at her expectedly.
"No, I've already had breakfast. I have some work to do around the house."
"But I like having breakfast with you," he said in a small voice.
Jean was reminded that the whole day was about spoiling Lucien, making sure he felt loved and special and adored. So if he wanted to have his breakfast with her, she'd just find another time during the day to do the cleaning. "Oh alright," she conceded. She crossed to the other side of the bed and sat down, resting against the headboard.
Lucien noticed her appearance for the first time as she walked in front of him. His eyes went wide. "Jean, you look…very nice." He somehow had enough sense first thing in the morning to keep his exact thoughts to himself.
"Thank you," she replied with a smirk. "I'm glad you think so." Something told her that he'd be a bit less conservative with his compliments as the day went on. But it was best to start out easy, not get carried away too soon.
He began to eat the toast and eggs she'd brought him, pausing between bites to tell her, "I've been thinking about our wedding."
"Have you?" Jean could hardly contain her euphoria at hearing him say those words.
"Yes. The flowers, oddly enough. I had a dream of you holding a bouquet of dahlias. Will those be blooming in March?"
She had to chuckle. "You had a dream about me?"
"Oh I have many dreams about you."
Jean blushed slightly, knowing exactly what that tone of voice insinuated. "Yes, but holding flowers?"
"Now that we've set a wedding date, I have a feeling I'll be dreaming of flowers and place settings and all sorts of other mind-numbing details."
She raised her brow almost threateningly.
Lucien quickly corrected himself. "If it weren't for our wedding, I'd absolutely hate all of it. But since it's for our special day, I can't imagine anything else I want to take up my attention."
Jean leaned over to kiss his cheek. "The dahlias should still be blooming in March. We'll see how soon the weather changes. They don't like the cold at all."
They continued chatting about various wedding arrangements. They agreed on a small ceremony with just their close friends at the magistrate's office, and a larger reception at the house with everyone else. They also both agreed to write to Mattie later that day and tell her the news and date. Even if she couldn't come all the way back to Australia to attend, they did want her to know and share in their joy.
Eventually, Jean couldn't postpone the day any longer. She insisted that she had to go get some work done. "But you rest, love. Relax and do whatever you want today."
Lucien wasn't sure what had prompted her to be in such a catering mood, but he did enjoy it. "I think I'll get dressed and organize some things in the study."
Jean nodded and took the tray back to the kitchen, closing his bedroom door behind her. Now that she knew he was planning on being in the study, she could put some of her ideas in practice.
A little while later, Lucien made his way into the study. For the second time that day, he was pleasantly surprised. A vase of freshly cut dahlias sat on his desk. When he went to get a closer look, he saw a folded sheet of paper on top of his files. Upon picking it up, he caught a whiff of the most intoxicating, beautiful scent. He immediately recognized it as Jean's perfume. She didn't wear it often, but when they went out for any occasion, she would spray a bit on her neck and wrists, and he would find himself desperate to get his nose as close to the source of the scent as he could manage.
Smiling, Lucien unfolded the page to see that it was a note from Jean.
Lucien,
I know Christmas was yesterday, but I think Boxing Day can be its own sort of fun, too. There are notes for you like this hidden all around the house. If you can find all three, I've got a special surprise for you. But you don't get anything if anyone else sees any of the notes. So you'd better get going before Charlie and Matthew start sniffing around, so to speak. You know how those policemen can be. I'll be waiting.
Love, Jean
P.S. I hope you like the flowers. I agree, they'd make a lovely wedding bouquet.
Lucien's heart felt immeasurably full as he read over her words. No one had ever done anything so sweet for him before. As if he ever had a doubt, he knew he was going to marry the most wonderful woman in all the world. And she loved him, which still seemed impossible to imagine.
He went off in search of the other notes. The first of the three was easy to spot. It was left in the front hall beside where he kept the car keys. He opened the note excitedly, pausing only to sniff the perfume she'd sprayed on this one as well.
Sometimes I worry that you don't understand how important you are to me. 'Important' seems too small a word. You are everything to me. When I was just your housekeeper, my purpose was to care for this house. My focus shifted from caring for the house to caring for you. And in caring for you, I grew to love you much more than I could have ever thought possible. Because you are everything to me, and I will care for you until the day I die, and even after that, if I can possibly find a way.
He read the love note at least four times. The words she had written had left him speechless. Lucien immediately wanted to find her, but he remembered the game she had set out for him. He probably wasn't allowed to find her until he'd collected all the notes.
Matthew came limping through the hall. "Alright, Lucien?"
"I…yes, fine," he stammered. "Have you seen Jean?"
"Not this morning. She made breakfast but wasn't in the kitchen. Seems like she's a bit of a ghost, floating around the house unseen today," Matthew replied.
"Are you off for the day?"
Nodding, Matthew told him, "Yes, I'm going to lunch."
Lucien smiled slightly. "Tell Alice hello for me."
Matthew just grunted and walked past him and out the door.
Pleased there was one less person in the house, Lucien went off in search of the other notes. He looked around the kitchen and found only the usual spotless surfaces. Jean had obviously cleaned up all the breakfast things while he'd been readying for the day. And as Matthew said, she was nowhere to be seen.
Next, he checked out in the sunroom. No Jean, but there was another note, held down by the pot of her prized begonia. He opened it excitedly.
I feel as though I've waited lifetime to be your wife. The last time I was married was a lifetime ago and so very different. The world was full of answers to any question I had. Everything was set out on the path in front of me. Until it was all ripped away. And I spent so long searching for something I didn't know how to understand. The moment I met you, I knew my world would never be the same. And it isn't. It's better than I could have ever dreamed. You make everything better, my darling, even amidst the heartache and struggle we've conquered to get to this point. Never doubt that it's all been worth it, and I'd go through fire any day just to be with you.
Lucien thought he might cry. Tears pricked his eyes, but he blinked them away. He didn't want to fall apart. He wanted to savor her words, let them etch themselves on his heart. He knew she loved him. She'd agreed to marry him, despite everything. But this…the depth of her love in these words was overwhelming.
He began to tear around the house, searching for the final note. He knew he wouldn't see her until he found it. And he desperately needed to see her. Needed to hold her in his arms and kiss her and try to convey his every thought and feeling to her however he could.
There was a distinct sound of running water coming from somewhere, but he ignored it. No note in the parlor. Though his bottle of scotch was missing from the bar cart. Again, he couldn't bring himself to pay attention to that now. He needed that last note!
Strangely, there was a light on in his mother's old studio. Hoping that was a clue, he followed it. And there it was. The final note, perched on the old, unused easel.
No more fancy words. You're much better at them than I am anyway. All of this was just an attempt to show you in another way that I love you. I love you more than any words could ever really express. And because I love you, I want you to have everything good and wonderful in the world. For today, that means that I want to spoil you. Really and truly spoil you, giving you a day of relaxation and, above all else, love. Please meet me down in your bathroom.
Jean had heard Lucien dashing all around the house, trying hard not to laugh at his frantic enthusiasm. Hopefully he was enjoying her little game. And, thankfully, she'd been able to convince Charlie and Rose to spend the lovely summer day in the park. Matthew had been slightly more difficult to get rid of, but one phone call to Alice Harvey had ensured that he would be preoccupied for the day as well. Jean had the whole house to herself with Lucien. If that wasn't a special treat for both of them, she didn't know what was.
Lucien practically crashed into the bathroom, panting from running to her. "Jean." His voice was barely over a whisper.
She noticed he had all of her little love notes clutched in his hand. "You found me," she said simply.
"Jean, I…" He didn't know how to complete the thought.
His eyes were wild, trying to figure out what to do. Jean stood up from where she was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. "Shh, don't get yourself worked up. That's not what today is for. I want you to relax and let me pamper you."
"But this…"
"This is something I wanted to do for you because I wanted you to know how I feel. And it makes me happy to do things for you. Now, I've drawn you a bath and poured you some scotch and left the bottle there. That should settle your nerves. Your dressing gown is hanging on the door when you're finished. But just relax, darling," she insisted.
Jean lightly kissed his cheek before walking past him and closing the bathroom door behind her, leaving him by himself. Unsure of what else to do, Lucien followed her instructions. He first drank down the scotch in a single swallow, pouring himself another helping before getting undressed and stepping into the warm, bubbly water.
He leaned back and audibly groaned with how good it felt. He hadn't taken a bath to just relax in longer than he could remember. Perhaps someday he and Jean could take a bath together. The thought made him smile. He closed his eyes, humming happily.
Lucien didn't know it, but Jean was waiting for him on the other side of the door. She sat on his bed with a glass of sherry, wearing only her dressing gown over one of the nightgowns she had bought in anticipation of their honeymoon. Despite not having set a date, Jean had spent the last months buying fine silk and lace things that she normally wouldn't have ever even looked at. But she thought about how Lucien would look when he saw her in something like that, and she couldn't seem to stop herself from buying it. Which was how she ended up with half a dozen things to choose from for their wedding night. But today was all about spoiling Lucien, and it seemed the best possible reason to allow him to see her in this nightgown months before their wedding.
When the water began to cool, Lucien got out of the bath. He did feel marvelously relaxed. He finished the scotch in his glass as he put on his dressing gown and left the bathroom.
He didn't expect to see Jean sitting on his bed, waiting for him, wearing her own dressing gown. "Jean!" he greeted in surprise.
She smiled softly. "I'm not finished spoiling you yet," she told him.
His face lit up. "What could you possibly have left?"
Standing up, Jean put her hand on his shoulder, leading him to the bed. "Lie face down. I'm going to give you a massage."
Lucien's eyes went very wide. "Oh you don't have to…"
"I know I don't have to. I want to. And you may remove the dressing gown if you think it will be in the way."
Her tone was so business-like, he almost laughed. "I'm not wearing anything underneath," he admitted.
"Yes, I know. I didn't leave you anything to change into other than the dressing gown." Perhaps eventually he would understand that this was foreplay before she ripped the clothes from his body herself.
Lucien was at a bit of a loss. It seemed far too improper to completely disrobe in front of her. Not like this, not now. As a compromise, he undid the dressing gown before immediately lying on the bed as she'd asked. He could shrug it off his arms and shoulders, leaving his back bare for her.
He immediately tensed in terror. His back. Lucien had forgotten momentarily that his back was crisscrossed with hideous scars. She knew what had happened to him in his past, and she'd seen some of his scars when he was recovering from his stab wound. But having his whole back bared to her like this made him feel more naked and exposed than disrobing completely ever would.
But the scars didn't bother Jean at all. True, she'd never seen them all like this before. But she knew they were there. And she knew how he felt about them.
Before Lucien could say anything, Jean removed her dressing gown, tossing it aside for the time being. She climbed onto the bed, straddling the back of his thighs and began massaging the rippling muscles of his back.
He moaned involuntarily at the gorgeous feeling of her hands. "God that's good, Jean."
She had to bite down on her lip to keep control of herself. Having him lying beneath her like this, getting to touch and caress and rub him felt more like a treat for her than for him. Jean tried to focus on giving the massage but was far too distracted by her rising lust. She leaned forward and peppered kisses on his neck and down his spine.
"Jean…" he warned.
"Let me spoil you," she whispered in his ear.
He shuddered. Suddenly, lying on his stomach was incredibly uncomfortable. "Jean," he repeated, this time more strained. He tried to move and shift his position but was unable with her sitting on him.
Jean moved off him and sat on her knees in the center of the bed beside him. She waited for him to sit up and find his way to her.
Lucien was going to tell her to stop, that they couldn't go down this path yet. But when he turned to her, he saw what she was wearing. The most beautiful white silk he had ever seen. She looked like an angel. He forgot every word he ever knew. All he knew was that he wanted her. Reaching out, he let his hands smooth the material from her ribcage, down her waist and hips.
Every touch from him increased her arousal. Jean crawled closer to him, falling into his arms and kissed him more deeply than ever before. She was hungry for every inch of him.
Lucien's head fell into a fog. There was nothing in the world but he and Jean. Jean, who loved him more than words. Jean, who had stood by him through all the heartbreak he had caused. Jean, who only wanted him to be happy and safe. Jean, who had protected him from the first moment they met and gladly stood between him and a gunman.
The memory cleared his head. He summoned all his self-control and pulled away from her. "No, Jean, we can't."
She blinked at him, confused. "We…what?"
He held her lovely face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. "Not like this," he told her gently.
"But this is for you. I want to. Please let me make you happy," she requested, almost begging. Jean knew, however, that her insistence at wanting to pleasure him was as much for her as it was for him. And her arousal was doing the talking for her.
"You do make me happy. But you don't need to do this."
"I want to," she repeated.
Lucien smiled. "And so do I. But this isn't how we're going to make love for the first time. You put a lot of thought into planning today for me, and I loved every bit of it. But I've been planning for our first night together for quite a while."
"You have?"
"Oh yes. And if you want to make me happy, you'll let me keep my plans. I promise you'll enjoy." He gave her a small peck on the tip of her nose. "Now let me put something on before the whole day is spoiled."
She chuckled and discreetly turned away to allow him to put his dressing gown back on. She had expected him to suggest they each get dressed and go into the parlor or have some leftover Christmas roast for dinner. But Lucien didn't do that at all. He somehow silently had gotten himself dressed and pulled her back down onto the bed. Jean yelped in surprise, causing him to laugh. He pulled her into his arms, nuzzling against the back of her neck and holding her tight. She settled into his embrace, smiling contentedly.
"Thank you for the wonderful day, Jean," he murmured, kissing her neck and shoulders.
"Is this a part of the plan you've got for our first evening?" she asked, shifting her hips against him.
He nudged her head with his. "No, but now that I see how naughty you are, perhaps I'll move up the timetable. I had assumed it would be our wedding night, but there doesn't seem to be much need to wait."
She hummed in agreement. "It seems a pity. It's your house and you're the only man living here who isn't having sex."
Lucien laughed and squeezed her tight. "Oh, I do love you, Jean. You take such good care of me. And I love having fun with you like this."
"Until death do us part, Lucien," she vowed.
Jean realized that her plan of spoiling Lucien had turned into just as much of a treat for her as well. And in a day shy of three months, they would be husband and wife. That would be the biggest treat of all.