Some mistakes are doomed to be repeated. This takes place at the immediate end of series 4; it will be AU as soon as series 5 airs. I'm not Australian so I hope you can forgive my mistakes in that regard. I don't own anything about DBM. If I did it certainly wouldn't be ending any time soon...
The hunger in Lucien's eyes matched that in Jean's heart, and she surrendered to his passionate kiss. Oh, how she had missed this in the days since Mei Lin showed up at their door. To feel surrounded by his love and comfort, his strong arms holding her so tenderly.
But all too soon the reality of the current situation pressed down once more. Mei Lin might be on the way to Hong Kong, but for now Lucien was still a married man. And even if he managed to obtain a divorce, the Catholic Church would not allow the two of them to marry. She loved Lucien with all her heart, but that love could never be blessed by a priest.
She turned away, intending to return to the house when he stopped her.
"Jean, there's something I need to ask you," he began.
She turned back to look at him. The open longing she saw there nearly undid her, but Jean Beazley was no young girl ruled entirely by her heart. "It's too soon, Lucien. Too much has happened. Right now I need a cup of tea and a few moments of peace to sort it all out."
His face fell. "Yes, of course. You're right, as always. I just... Yes, I'm sorry. You're right."
He followed her into the house, but when she turned toward the kitchen, she was disappointed to hear him turn toward his study instead. She couldn't really begrudge him a drink after what they'd all been through, she'd love one herself. But it was early in the day and she had too much to sort through in her mind. Tea, it would be for now.
She wasn't really surprised though when he appeared in the kitchen just as she was finishing her cuppa. After all, this was Lucien Blake, solver of mysteries, the man who couldn't leave anything unfinished. Loose ends were his nemesis.
He held the antique ring box in his hand and placed it tentatively on the table before her.
"Jean, it may be too soon for you, but I need you to know that time won't change anything for me. I love you. I will do all in my power to make you my wife as soon as it's possible. You don't have to wear this, I understand how awkward that might be, but please accept it as a symbol of my commitment. My commitment to you. To us."
Those eyes. Those lovely eyes that truly were the windows to his soul. They stared at her with such hope and longing. But Jean had always accepted that she would need to be the practical one in their relationship. She would always be required to temper his incandescent spirit or he would burn himself out in a blaze of fireworks.
She stared at the box for a moment, her fingers clutching her empty cup to keep from reaching for the ring that would mean giving herself to him.
"And what about in the meantime?" she asked slowly, only allowing herself to look up at him after he had had time to consider her words. "We can't exactly go back to what we had before, now that we know you're still a married man. Even with Charlie here it would be too much. Your patients, our friends, the men on the police force. You may think you don't care but they will, and that means we have to as well."
She could see his mind working feverishly, casting about for some wild and totally impractical solution.
She continued before he could speak. "And even if we manage to navigate all of that, there's still the matter of the Church. I'm not allowed to marry a divorced man. That may not matter to you, but it does to me."
He was struggling for control, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his hand at the back of his head in that gesture that meant he was lost for what to say.
"Jean, I love you. I had hoped..."
"I know. I had hoped too," she assured him. "But right now I don't see a way forward to what we both want. I'm sorry, Lucien, but that's the reality of our situation."
His eyes were wide with fear, darting every which way. She reached out to clasp his hand, wanting to calm him, but she should have known she could not hold him after this.
"Jean, I..." His voice was strangled, and a moment later he was out the door.
"Lucien," she called, but it was already too late. With shaking hands she placed her cup and saucer in the sink then fled to her bedroom.
Oh, what had she just done? Didn't they deserve a little happiness? Certainly Lucien did. Why was it so hard to do the right thing?
Tears streamed down her face as she stared out the window, remembering when she had stood in the exact same pose after Mei Lin had first appeared. She had thought Lucien was completely out of reach then. And now that Mei Lin was out of the picture, she herself was keeping him at arm's length. What was wrong with her?
Oh, it was such a mess. She was physically and emotionally exhausted by it all. She moved over to her bed, intending to get a few minutes of quiet before facing everything that needed to be done.
It was dark when she woke. She was disoriented for a moment before it all came crashing back down. Sighing and pushing her hair back into a semblance of order, she listened for sounds of activity in the house. Charlie should be home by now, and Lucien too, she hoped. But all was silent below. It felt oppressive, and if she must admit it, a little ominous.
She switched on the lamp and used her vanity's mirror to make certain she looked presentable, then headed down the stairs. The only light softening the total darkness was the faint glow of the small lamp above the kitchen sink. That's where she headed.
Someone had washed up and put away the dishes from her tea, and there was a note sitting on the table.
She snatched it up, but her hopes that it was from Lucien were dashed when she recognized Charlie's handwriting. He was sorry to have missed them both, but he wanted them to know he was taking Rose to the pictures and would be back late.
Sweet, dependable Charlie.
She smiled briefly, then wondered if it was worth trying to put together something for dinner. Would Lucien come home hungry? Possible, if he'd spent the whole day drinking. Or maybe he would get something at the club. She was scarcely hungry herself. She supposed sandwiches would do, certainly nothing elaborate was called for.
On a hunch, she decided to check the study. It wouldn't be the first time she'd found him sitting there in total darkness. "Lucien," she called, hopefully. In vain, as it turned out. The room was empty when she opened the door and switched on the light. Totally empty. That was odd. Even his medical bag was gone. She knew he hadn't taken it with him when he walked out. Maybe he'd been called out on a case?
She wouldn't bother him at the police station, but Alice might know. She rang the morgue first, but no answer there. Maybe they had finished. If Alice was at home, she still would know something about any case.
Alice picked up on the first ring. "Doctor Harvey here."
"Good evening, Alice. It's Jean."
"Is there a patient so soon?"
"A patient?" Jean was totally confused.
"Yes, a patient of Lucien's. I thought you might be calling with an emergency. He said it would happen from time to time but I didn't think it would be the first night."
"Alice, I don't understand. Wait a minute. You're covering Lucien's practice?"
"Yes, while he's away. He didn't tell you? That's surprising, even for Lucien."
Jean was near panic, but tried to cover. "I'm afraid I was... unavailable. I'm sure he left a note somewhere. Let me look."
"Yes, you look while I drive over there," Alice said firmly. "That man!"
Nearly frantic, Jean searched Lucien's desk. Nothing. She headed for the door, intending to look in his bedroom next when she saw a sheet of paper on the floor. It must have been swept off the desk when she'd opened the door. Her hands shook as she unfolded it.
My dearest Jean,
I have put you through so much pain when my only intention was to make you happy. Until I can find a way for us truly to be together it's probably best that we be apart. No need to torture ourselves with that which we cannot have. And so I am going away until I can obtain a divorce, and perhaps then we can work through our other difficulties together. Please know that I will love you and be thinking of you every moment I am away from you.
Alice has agreed to take over the practice until such time as I return. Frank Carlyle and Charlie are also aware that I have gone. Please call on them for any assistance you may need to keep our home running. It is indeed our home, and I shall return to it and to you as soon as I can. My only hope is that you will wait for me, unworthy of you as I am.
All my love,
Lucien
Jean gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Did he really think being apart from him would make it any easier? Didn't he know that having him near was the only thing that made it all easier? Such a bloody fool, but her bloody fool. Where could he have gone?
She sat down heavily. If she were completely honest with herself, he could have gone anywhere in the world. Ok, probably not Hong Kong, unless it was to see a solicitor about a divorce. But she knew he had connections all over the globe.
Connections. No, he couldn't have, could he? Not after all he'd gone through to keep Major Alderton from forcing him back into the army...
But Lucien needed to feel needed. Without his patients and his police work, what else did he have to fill that need?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up. A moment later Alice was standing beside her.
"He left me a note, but he didn't say where. Do you know where he went, Alice?"
"He didn't tell me specifics, but I got the impression it was something to do with Army Intelligence. And of course, if that is the case, he wouldn't say so directly, would he?"
The feeling of deja vu was too much. It was Christopher all over again. A few ill-chosen words from her had driven Lucien away just as surely.
Alice had to help her to a chair.
"What if he doesn't come back? What if he never returns?"
"Nonsense!" Alice said firmly. "Lucien loves you. He'll sit behind a desk for a few months and then...". She broke off. Even Alice could see Lucien would never settle for riding a desk very long. "Oh dear."
Jean could only nod, tears streaming down her face.
"I have a few contacts," Alice began. "Maybe I can call in some favors so we will know where he is, at least."
And so the vigil began. Alice passed along whatever she could glean about Lucien's activities from her sources. For the first two weeks he was behind a desk in Canberra, presumably catching up on everything he had missed in his time away from the service. But with his abilities and his facility for language it was only a matter of time before he went into the field.
The first stop was Vietnam. Purely an advisory role, Alice was assured. Most of the fighting was being done by the two Vietnamese factions, although many experts were predicting that it was only a matter of time before the military advisors were replaced by ground and air troops.
Then it was on to more familiar, and dangerous ground: Borneo, and the increasingly violent struggle to create the nation of Malaysia. After that Alice could extract little information. The whole area was in chaos with few reliable reports.
Jean prayed for him constantly. Lucien was never far from her thoughts. At least, since he had listed her as next of kin, she would be the one to receive any definitive news.
She kept the house up and fulfilled her duties as receptionist, but the tight feeling in her stomach never went away. Right now all she could do for Lucien was to make sure he had something to come home to. If indeed he ever could come home.
She dreaded the sound of tyres in the drive. Would it still be a telegram, as it was during the war, or would they send an officer to notify her personally? She was afraid to ask, believing it would be tempting fate.
It turned out that they did official visits now. Her heart was in her throat when she opened the door one evening to a colonel in full dress uniform. She was barely aware of Charlie appearing behind her, supporting her as her knees went weak.
The colonel must have known she'd assumed the worst. "He isn't dead, Mrs. Beazley, at least as far as we know," he assured her. "Major Blake was taken prisoner. One of the locals saw him taken into custody by the Malays."
Jean gasped. Thoughts of Lucien's nightmares immediately sprung to mind. "Will there be... Do they..."
"Torture? No, not to our knowledge. We suspect they will want to make use of his medical skills more than anything."
"Lucien, that is to say, Major Blake would never withhold his medical skills from anyone, no matter what side they're on," Jean insisted.
"Precisely, nor would we expect him to do so," the colonel assured her. "We are negotiating for his release, but that could take a while. Please be patient and know we are doing all we can to return him safely to you. In the meantime if there's anything we can do for you, please let us know."
When the colonel had left, Charlie assisted her to the settee and kept her hands in his.
"He's alive, Jean. Let's hold onto that, shall we?"
"Yes, he's alive." She nodded firmly. For now, at least, that was enough.
Two weeks later, a letter arrived from Hong Kong, the offices of a solicitor. Jean planned to leave it until Lucien returned, if indeed he returned, but Alice would have none of that. In her usual forthright manner she insisted that if it was what they thought it was, it affected Jean just as much as Lucien. And she was, after all, his next of kin. Alice opened it to find the divorce had been finalized. Lucien was now a free man, at least matrimonially speaking. Physically, was another matter. They could do nothing but wait for news.
After dinner that evening, Charlie was finishing the washing up while Jean turned the solicitor's letter over and over in her hands.
"What is it?" he asked. "I thought you'd be happy that the divorce was final."
"I am," Jean insisted. "Really I am. But there's still the matter of the Church. He isn't free to marry as far as they're concerned."
Charlie, like Lucien, was no longer a practicing Catholic but he did know a little about how things worked. "They weren't married in the Church, were they? The doc and Mrs. Blake, I mean."
"I never asked him, but probably not. What difference does that make?"
"Is it possible he could get the marriage annulled, if it wasn't performed by a priest?"
"I suppose it's possible," Jean said slowly. "But it would mean a lot of trouble for something Lucien doesn't even believe in."
"He believes in you, though," Charlie pointed out. "Maybe I could ask Father Emery. I won't mention it's for the doc, but it won't hurt to know if it's something that could be done. Is that all right with you?"
Jean couldn't allow herself to hope, but what was the harm really? "Thank you, Charlie. At least we would know where we stand." She turned quickly to matters she could control. "In the meantime, I think I should freshen up his room and his study, just in case. Where the Army is concerned, you never know what to expect."
And in the end, it was totally unexpected. She was heading to Sacred Heart, having begun attending daily mass since Lucien had been taken prisoner, but when she opened the door to go out, he was there on the doorstep.
He was thinner, almost gaunt; the beard was gone and his hair was longer, but the bluest of blue eyes still shone out from above those fabulous cheekbones.
There was a hesitance in his gaze, reminding her of when he'd first returned to Ballarat to care for his dying father, not quite sure of his welcome.
But there was no hesitation in Jean's greeting. She cried out, then reached for him, pulling herself into his embrace. In that moment she knew she had to be his wife. Regardless of the obstacles, they would be together, for better or for worse. She had lost Christopher after driving him away, but somehow, improbably, she had been granted a second chance with Lucien. She had no intention of wasting it.