You're My Girl
Jean Beazley sat at the bar in the Colonist's Club, gently sipping her sherry. Normally a woman alone wouldn't be permitted to sit alone at the bar; it wasn't very proper. But everyone knew Mrs. Beazley, the widow housekeeper to Dr. Blake. And Cec Drury was there to look out for her, making sure the other club members didn't make any fuss about her as she waited.
The trouble with the waiting was that Jean had no idea how long she'd be there. She didn't mind waiting at home, because there were always things at home she could do to keep herself busy. But here, she could only sit and drink.
When her glass was nearly empty, the seat beside her was taken by a distinguished gray-haired man. "Pardon me, do you mind?" he asked politely.
"Not at all," she replied, taking a moment to look him up and down.
"I'm just visiting Ballarat for the evening on my way to Adelaide," the man told her, striking up a conversation.
"Well, people don't tend to stay in Ballarat for long. Are you going home to Adelaide?" Jean replied, figuring she'd have a chat as she waited.
"No, I've never been, actually."
"It's very lovely. My son and his family live there. I stayed with them for a while last year to help with their new baby."
"I hope you'll pardon me for saying, but you cannot be old enough to be a grandmother!" the man flattered.
Jean smiled. "I assure you I am, but that's nice of you to say."
From the doorway, Lucien Blake watched Jean speak to the man. At first, he was taken with the curve of her waist and hips and legs in the tight blue dress she was wearing, and he'd allowed himself to stare at her for a moment. Then he noticed her smile and laugh, the perfectly coifed brown curls shake with mirth, which made his heart flutter in his chest. But then he saw what—or rather who—had made her laugh. An altogether different feeling gripped him in the pit of his stomach.
Lucien walked right over, ignoring the handful of people who had tried to say hello to him as he brushed past them. "Jean, darling!" he greeted loudly. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek.
Jean balked slightly. "Lucien, nice of you to join me," she replied with a mild scolding in her tone.
"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. There's simply no excuse. Though I see you were able to stay entertained." He turned to the man beside Jean. "Hello, Dr. Lucien Blake," he said, introducing himself with a handshake.
The man looked quite disappointed. "Ah, hello. Horace Croly."
"Mr. Croly was telling me about his upcoming trip to Adelaide," Jean explained.
"Oh yes, Jean and I spent a wonderful week in Adelaide last year."
She watched Lucien speak to Mr. Croly with a strange smile plastered on his face, and his arm never leaving her shoulders. He was standing rather too close to her, and that kiss, even on the cheek, was very near crossing the line of proper public behavior. She knew she had to put an end to whatever this was. "Well, Lucien, I think we'd better go into the dining room for dinner. Mr. Croly, it was lovely to meet you, and I wish you the best on your trip to Adelaide," Jean said kindly.
She gave Lucien a small nudge to get him to move. He took her hand to help her down from the barstool and kept ahold of it as they made their way from the bar.
Jean had to nearly yank her hand away from him. "Lucien, we are in public!" she hissed.
"Yes, dear, I know," he replied. When they sat down at their table, he felt like he could finally exhale. "I am sorry I was late."
She just shrugged. "I didn't really expect you to arrive at seven on the dot."
"Though I see you didn't get too bored," he growled.
"No, I didn't mind." She paused. "Wait a minute. You're jealous!"
He didn't respond.
"Lucien Blake, I cannot believe that you, of all people, are jealous!" Jean was almost laughing at this point. The idea seemed oddly comical.
"Why me, of all people?" He was mildly offended at that remark.
"Well, you're not typically the most involved of people for the most part. And you've always been rather sure of yourself for the most part. Brazenly, actually. Green is an odd color on you," she quipped.
Lucien leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. In a low tone, he told her, "To take that point by point, I like to think I'm very involved when it comes to you, and as a result I don't think I'm ever too sure of myself. And I look wonderful in green."
Jean laughed, her mouth spread wide in a beautiful smile. Lucien felt that fluttering in his chest. "I promise you that you have nothing to ever be jealous of. There isn't one man in all of Ballarat who can hold a candle to you, Lucien," she assured him.
"Ah yes, but that Mr. Croly was just visiting," he teased.
Jean shook her head at him. "I hope I don't need to remind you that I'm not some shiny toy for you to hide away from the other boys to keep them from seeing it."
"I'd never think such a thing about you, Jean. I think…" he trailed off, not wanting to admit the truth he'd just realized.
"You think what?" she prompted.
He reached across the table to take her hand. She cautiously allowed him to caress her palm with his thumb. "I think we spent so much time rebuffing the rumors that now that you're my girl, I don't want anyone to ever think otherwise."
She felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks. "I'm not much of a girl anymore, Lucien, but I'll always be yours." She gave his hand a squeeze.
He wanted to lean over the table and kiss her, public decorum be damned, but their waiter came by, breaking the spell of the moment. Lucien had to clear his throat a bit before he could speak. Jean just watched him with stars in her eyes, pleased as punch that she didn't need to hide her feelings for him ever again.
