Spoiling Jean
All week, Lucien had been looking for ideas of how to reciprocate for all the lovely things Jean had done for him at Christmas. She had planned a fun, special, wonderful day for him. And regardless of what she said about wanting to do nice things for him because it made her happy, Lucien desperately wanted to take care of her and to give her everything she could ever want in the world.
Lucien caught Charlie after lunch and asked for his help. "I want to do something nice for Jean for New Year's, what do you think she'd like?"
But Charlie was at a bit of a loss. "I'd say buy her flowers, but she grows flowers nicer than ones at the florist. And you just bought her earrings for Christmas, so she probably wouldn't want more jewelry. Gosh, what do women like?"
"Not just women, Jean," Lucien insisted.
"I dunno," Charlie shrugged. "I know she's always wanted to see the world. She likes going on adventures, despite how annoyed she gets when you go tearing around like you do. Lucien, you're marrying her. You know her better than I do. Just…don't try to cook for her."
He frowned. "Why shouldn't I try to cook for her?"
"Because you're awful at it. Face it, you're a brilliant doctor and a better detective than most of the police force put together. But you cannot manage in the kitchen to save your life."
That gave Lucien an idea. "Alright, I can't cook. But you can."
"Yes…" Charlie replied suspiciously.
"Will you wake up early tomorrow and help me make Jean breakfast in bed?"
Charlie raised his brow. "Oh, breakfast in bed, is it?"
Lucien rolled his eyes. "Come off it. She made me breakfast in bed last week. I just want to return the favor."
And with the plan being set in motion, Lucien went out to pick up some things he knew he'd want to prepare for her. Not only a whole day of spoiling Jean, but a whole weekend. He smiled to himself. A whole lifetime.
The next morning, Lucien awoke earlier than he had in recent memory. Charlie was already up, getting eggs and bacon and bread out to make Jean's breakfast. He patiently showed the good doctor how to know when the eggs were properly cooked, and to watch the toast to keep it from charring, and how to fry up the bacon to avoid getting grease burns. And despite his insistence that he'd made scones for Jean and had them turn out perfectly well, Lucien was indebted to Charlie for this; it would have been a nightmare if he'd tried to do it himself.
When everything was all set, Lucien thanked Charlie and took the tray up to Jean's bedroom. He knocked softly on the door as he balanced the tray. "Jean?" he called gently.
There was a rustling inside. "Lucien?" came her groggy voice.
"Might I come in, love?"
"Alright."
He entered the room and presented the breakfast tray. "I didn't want to just barge in, in case you weren't decent."
She chuckled, rubbing her face to wake herself up. "I wouldn't exactly say I'm decent, but I'm awake and fully clothed in my pyjamas," she replied. "Now, what's all this for?"
"Breakfast in bed. Charlie helped, so you can rest assured that everything is edible."
"Oh Lucien, why did you do this?" she complained.
His face fell. "I wanted to spoil you. Like you did for me. It's your turn."
"That wasn't the purpose of what I did! I didn't want you to feel like you owed me anything!"
Lucien put the tray down on her vanity table and came to sit on the edge of her bed. "Jean, I owe you everything. Not just for last week but for all the love and light you've brought to my life. You spoiling me didn't make me indebted to you. It gave me the idea that I want to spoil you. Now, I've got a million things planned for you. Please let me treat you to a bit of fun."
She regarded him carefully, dubious of what he might have in store for her. At last, she spoke. "Is the bacon crisp?"
He laughed. "Yes, it's just as you like it." Lucien brought the tray over for her.
"This is quite a lot of food."
"I want to make sure you have a good breakfast."
"Yes, but this is too much."
He gave her a small half-smile. "Perhaps enough to share?" he suggested.
She grinned. "Shoes off before you get on the bed. Tuck in."
Lucien climbed onto her bed in his stocking feet, and the two of them had a lovely breakfast together, eating and chatting happily.
"New Year's is such an odd time," she noted.
"How so?"
"It's just strange to realize that this is the last full year I spent being unmarried for the rest of my life. Strange in a very good, beautiful way," she assured him, placing her hand on his arm.
"Well, you haven't been without a wedding band for too long. And I haven't been unmarried for too long. You won't need to change your monogram at all. That's convenient. So really, not too much will change in the coming year," Lucien replied light-heartedly.
"I'll be moving out of my room. That will be different, sleeping in a new bed. And I've been going to bed alone for so many years, that'll be a change, too," she countered, a playful glint in her eye.
He smirked. "Yes, I suppose that will be a bit different. You'll be moving into my bedroom, do you think? Or was there another one you fancied?" he teased.
Jean swallowed the piece of bacon she was chewing. "Actually, we should discuss that. Your room is right next to the study and the surgery. Which is perfectly satisfactory for your purposes now. But it is close to the front of the house and the parlor, and I worry about us having a house full of people practically right outside our door once we're married."
Whether or not she meant it that way, Lucien took her statements as an indication that she was rather loud in the bedroom and didn't want people to overhear. The thought sent a rush of blood to his groin. He shifted where he sat. "Yes, well, we'll have to figure something out."
Shortly thereafter, Jean insisted on getting started with the day. She told him she had a lot of work to do, especially since she was certain that all their friends would somehow end up in their parlor to celebrate the New Year. Lucien decided not to tell her yet that he'd arranged for Charlie and Rose and Matthew and Alice to use his membership at the Colonists' Club to attend their annual New Years party. He and Jean would have the house to themselves that evening. Which is just what he wanted.
"I'll clean up these things, you get dressed and ready for the day, and you can meet me in the kitchen, alright?"
Jean nodded and waited for him to leave before getting out of bed and getting herself fixed up. She wasn't sure what he had planned for the day, so she decided to wear a simple blouse and skirt. She'd change into something a bit nicer for the evening.
When Jean went down to the kitchen, she found Lucien sitting at the table, looking quite pleased with himself. She looked at him curiously, waiting for him to do or say something.
"What do you need to accomplish today?" he asked, barely containing his excitement.
"Just the normal housework. Some dusting and laundry. I have some plants that need repotting."
"Right!" Lucien hopped out of the chair. "Let's get going, shall we? I know you won't be able to relax when you've got things you feel like you're supposed to be doing, so let's get all your chores done early."
Jean was surprised. Pleasantly so. When he'd brought her breakfast and explained his plan of spoiling her, she had immediately thought about the things she had planned to do that would have to be pushed aside for his whims. Of course she would do whatever he wanted; he planned something for her, and she'd surely enjoy anything he did for her. But the fact that he knew she'd want to get her housework done first…it warmed Jean's heart that her fiancé understood her so well and was supportive of how she liked to do things.
Lucien helped Jean with her dusting, moving things aside and picking things up so she could get the feather duster in all the corners and tight spots around the parlor and dining room. He carried the washing outside and handed her each item to hang on the line so she wouldn't have to constantly bend down and pick things up. They took a break for lunch with Matthew. The two men made sandwiches for the three of them, insisting Jean relax and let them do the work. They did a rather good job, and Jean was impressed and very appreciative.
"Right, I'm off to pick up a few things. I'll be back to change my clothes before I pick up Alice," Matthew said gruffly.
"And we'd better get to those plants that need repotting," Lucien suggested.
They went to the sunroom together. Jean had more fun than she'd expected, explaining the various tasks to Lucien, showing him how she cared for her plants. He asked a lot of questions and was genuinely interested in all that she was doing.
"Now, what's that one over there?" he asked, pointing to a large pot off to the side.
Jean glanced over. "Oh, that's the fichus."
"Does it need repotting?"
"I shouldn't think so. Fichuses are quite happy plants. Don't need too much tending," she replied, turning back to the begonia she was packing into the soil.
"Perhaps it needs watering?"
Jean paused to look at him, suspicious of why he was so interested in the fichus. "I doubt it. But perhaps I should go over and check?" she asked with a knowing smile.
Lucien couldn't help but grin. "Yes, perhaps you should."
Still dubious, Jean went over to examine the fichus. She found a folded pamphlet tucked into the soil. "What's this?"
But instead of answering, Lucien just nodded at her to examine it. Jean saw the title and was very confused indeed. The pamphlet was advertising a cruise around the Mediterranean. She opened the first page and found a note tucked inside. It had Lucien's handwriting.
In this room, life is guarded from the rain showers, and safe inside you grow the most beautiful flowers. Next, go to where I do my best to not be daft; it's the room where I practice my vocational craft.
Jean read the rhyming riddle and looked at Lucien, her eyes shining excitedly. "Lucien, did you reuse my scavenger hunt idea?"
"I like to think I improved upon the concept. Instead of me tearing around the house looking for you, we can go around together while you follow my clues," he explained.
"Well, we're in the sunroom now. Where you practice your vocational craft, that'd be the surgery, yes?"
He sighed, "You may be too clever for this."
"No, it'll be fun!" She kept the travel brochure in one hand and reached out to him with the other, leading him through the house to the surgery. "Is the next clue going to readily visible, or do I have to look for it?"
"You'll see." Lucien was very pleased to see that Jean had a big smile on her face.
When they arrived in the surgery and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, Jean looked at him expectantly. "I suppose I'll search?"
He gestured out to her. "Go right ahead." He watched as she went around, looking behind things and opening drawers. In his filing cabinet of patient files, she found another pamphlet sticking out of one of the folders.
She pulled it out excitedly. This one was for a month-long train tour all around the European continent. Inside, another note from Lucien.
It may be said that I lack some sense, but at least in here, I have a lot of patients. Now, go to where we make our food, and perhaps you'll find something to put you in the mood.
Jean had to chuckle at that one, hoping to hide her blush from thinking about the number of times she and Lucien had shared passionate kisses in the kitchen—far too passionate for two people who weren't properly married yet. But Jean couldn't care less about the propriety of it; she loved kissing Lucien more than anything and had no intention of stopping.
She took his hand again and led him right to the kitchen. "Now, how did you have time to hide anything in here? I'm in the kitchen all the time. Surely I would have noticed." Her eyes went wide in realization. "No, that's right! You made breakfast for me with Charlie and then you did the cleaning, and you and Matthew made lunch. Oh you are clever, aren't you?"
Lucien smirked proudly. "This clue was a little more tied to the hiding place, actually."
Jean paused, considering the clue. Something to put her in the mood. In the mood for what? Well, when in doubt, there was usually something in the refrigerator. That was probably a good place to start.
And sure enough, Lucien groaned as she opened the fridge door to find yet another travel brochure. "How are you so good at this? Bloody hell, Jean, why am I the one working with the police!?"
"Oh hush," she protested, but Jean was pleased as punch at his compliments. She always knew she was rather intelligent, but in her position in life, her mind had never gotten to be put to much use until she'd begun helping Lucien with his cases.
"Well I might as well tell you that this was the last clue, but you're finished much sooner than I expected. Go ahead and read it and we can go to our destination," he grumbled.
"I could waste some time, if you want. I can pretend I didn't find this right away," she teased.
"No, I am rather eager to get to the end. But I thought you'd have more fun figuring things out. I'm sorry I didn't come up with something better," he apologized.
She regarded the concerned look on his sweet face and put the brochures down on the kitchen table for the time being so she could put her hand on his cheek. "I promise, Lucien, I am having fun. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. When you said you were going to spoil me, I expected something like flowers and lavish gifts and something relaxing and, frankly, a bit boring. But breakfast in bed, and you helping with all my housework and planning all of this? It's so wonderful to do something out of the ordinary, and it's even better that we can do it together. I've had the loveliest day with you. Thank you." She pulled his face down to give him a kiss. And in the moment, Jean decided that a sweet peck wasn't sufficient. She moved her mouth over his, her tongue tracing his lips to deepen the kiss. He moaned and pulled her tight against him. Jean almost laughed. What was it about the kitchen that seemed to get them in the mood?
The sound of the front door opening caused them to break apart.
"Just me. I'll be getting dressed and then I'll leave you be," Matthew called, not bothering to greet them any other way.
Jean wiped the corners of her mouth, blushing furiously. "Perhaps I should look at that next clue."
"No, wait until Matthew leaves," he warned.
"Shall I make us some tea?" she offered.
"Yes, I think a cuppa will pass the time nicely."
Lucien leaned against the edge of the counter while Jean put the kettle on. She could feel his eyes on her, making her smile. Being the object of his attention and affection and adoration like this never failed to make her feel like the most beautiful, loved woman in all the world. She couldn't resist giving him another kiss while they waited for the water to boil.
"I think I'll have to plan more fun surprises for you if you're going to be like this," he murmured between kisses.
"Maybe you should," she replied with twinkling eyes, pulling away from him to get the whistling kettle.
They had made it halfway through their cups of tea when Matthew finally left the house. Lucien exhaled happily at having the house empty for them again. Jean asked where Charlie was, and Lucien promised that their young lodger was out all day, out with Rose and going straight to the party at the Club without returning home.
"Now may I continue with the riddles?" Jean asked.
"Go right ahead, love."
She picked up the final travel brochure, this one advertising castles in Scotland, and read the note it contained.
This is a place we eat, but also where we always seem to meet. Finally, please join me in the room forgotten by time, where we can light a fire and watch the ceiling shine.
Jean began to laugh. "I know this means we should go to your mother's studio, but that last line doesn't rhyme."
"I did the best I could!" Lucien pouted.
"'Time' and 'shine' don't rhyme!" she insisted.
"If you're going to mock my efforts, maybe I won't give you your last surprise," he threatened.
"No, I want my surprise!" Jean took his hand and dragged him through the house to the studio.
Inside, the only light was coming through the windows. But beside the sofa in front of the fire was an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne and two glasses beside it. Lucien put his arm around her waist and kissed her temple. "Happy new year, my darling. I thought I'd light a fire and we can have a toast to the wonderful year ahead of us and talk about those travel brochures until dinner."
He released her to get working on the fireplace. Jean looked at the brochures in her hand, confused. "What about the travel brochures?" she asked.
"Oh I didn't make that clear. That's what we're doing for our honeymoon."
She frowned. "Which one?"
"All of them. I thought about four months would be sufficient. It'll be spring and early summer in Europe, which is a lovely time to go. And I know you've always wanted to see the world, so this might be a good start for us."
Jean was overcome. She stared at the pictures of all the places she'd dreamt of her whole life, places her fiancé was going to take her. "All of them?" she whispered in disbelief.
Lucien turned back to see her nearly in tears. "Only if you want to. I suppose four months is a very long time. We don't have to if you don't want to," he said quickly.
"No, this is…incredible. Lucien, we're really going to all these places?"
He crossed the room back to her, putting his hands on her arms and giving her a comforting squeeze. "My darling Jean, I will take you everywhere you've ever wanted to go. I want to make every day of our life together a wonderful adventure."
Jean couldn't stop her tears. "I don't know what to say!" she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
"You don't have to say anything. Come on, let's open this champagne, hmm?"
They sat on the sofa and clinked their glasses as the fire roared in front of them.
"To you, Jean Beazley, for being my home and my heart," he toasted.
"And to you, Lucien Blake, for being the greatest adventure and greatest love of my life," Jean added.
The two of them sipped their drinks quietly. The fire crackled, making the gold leaf on the ceiling shimmer as the sun set outside. Jean and Lucien shared furtive glances at each other. They felt a heat that wasn't coming from the fire in front of them.
"Jean," Lucien began, feeling somewhat nervous to broach this subject. "I told you last week that I'd made…plans…for us."
She nodded, remembering the conversation he was referring to. "Was this your plan?"
He grinned sheepishly. "Well, everything else was just for today. But the champagne and the firelight, I thought might be romantic. It's entirely up to you though. We don't have to…"
"I want to," she replied immediately, blushing with her eagerness. "I mean…I had bought something to wear."
"Yes, I remember. That nightgown you wore last week was gorgeous."
"I have others as well. But perhaps I'll save that for our honeymoon," she smirked.
Lucien swallowed hard, his mind spinning with images of Jean in various lacy negligees and lingerie. He almost offered for her to go change into something for him, but his trousers were starting to feel tight. He didn't want her to leave his presence for even a second. He put his champagne glass down on the side table. "Jean, I want to give you pleasure. I want to love you completely, if you'll let me."
Jean's voice was caught in her throat. Seeing his eyes darken with desire, desire for her, she couldn't refuse him anything. This was the man of her dreams, who wanted to give her everything she'd ever wanted in life. They weren't even married yet, and Jean already felt as though she'd gotten the greatest fairytale ending. And this was only the beginning, she knew. Ending the year with this new beginning for them felt very right.
She didn't say a word to him. She only nodded as she leaned in to kiss him. For the first time in their entire relationship, Jean didn't hold anything back. She didn't stop him or stop herself. She was ready to give herself to him fully, now and forever.
Lucien could feel the difference in her kiss. Not an ounce of reticence. Only love and passion. The taste of the tea and champagne on her tongue made him groan, pulling her closer and deeper. Her fingernails scratched the back of his neck as her hands tangled in his hair. He placed a hand on her knee, letting his finger trail up her stockinged leg underneath her skirt, searching for the patch of bare skin on her thigh he knew was there. She gasped at the sensation of his hands on her flesh.
When she broke the kiss, Jean started to work on the buttons of his shirt. "I'm glad you're not wearing a waistcoat and tie today," she muttered.
"Are you?"
"I do like the look of it, but that makes far too many things for me to take off you."
Lucien had to laugh as he pulled off his shirt and leaned in to attach his lips to her neck. Every sigh and moan from her made spurred him on, sucking and nipping marks onto her pale skin. Jean was reveling in the sensations he was creating. Her hands travelled over his arms and shoulders and back, frustrated that his singlet still separated his body from her. She pulled at the fabric, untucking it from his trousers and putting her hands underneath to feel his rippling muscles. He jolted slightly, unprepared for her touch on his bare skin.
"Everything alright?" she asked when he broke away from her.
He gave a breathy chuckle. "I don't know what I expected from you."
Suddenly, she felt a grip of panic in her chest. Was she coming on too strong? Most men don't like an eager, wanton woman, do they? She hadn't thought Lucien was like that, but perhaps her brazenness was threatening his masculinity. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.
Lucien immediately realized his mistake. "Oh, darling, no, you're wonderful!" he insisted. He reached over and stroked her cheek. "I just hadn't realized how much you were holding back before. I didn't know you…wanted me."
Jean didn't quite know how to tell him just how much she had wanted him. It would take some time to be able to find the words out loud to assure him that she desperately desired him. For now, she would show him. "Very much," was all she could say before launching at him for another deep kiss.
They continued undressing each other on the sofa, pausing their kisses only to remove various items and leave them on the floor by the fireplace. Lucien appreciated her sound of disappointment when his lips left hers as he trailed down her body. She made a very different sort of sound when his mouth closed over her breast, rolling and massaging the other in his hand. Jean arched into him, overwhelmed by the gentle yet commanding nature of his ministrations, in awe of feeling a man touching her this way after so long. And not just any man, Lucien Blake, a man who could have any woman he wanted. Somehow, in some glorious twist of fate, he wanted her.
He trailed lower down her body, kissing and licking and nipping at the soft skin on her stomach, worshipping the faint outlines of stretchmarks left behind from her pregnancies, proof of her strength of her past that had eventually led her to be here with him. "God, you're beautiful," he growled, his voice muffled into her flesh. His hands gently parted her legs for him to settle between.
Jean gasped when his mouth descended to a place she hadn't expected. She'd heard that people did this—Christopher never had. But they had been so young when they married; neither of them ever really knew what they were doing. Lucien was an experienced man of the world. He certainly knew what he was doing. His nose was nuzzling against her and his lips sucked at her folds as his tongue stroked her to climax. She screamed his name, her fingers pulling tight at his hair, and her body trembled around him.
Lucien couldn't resist reaching down to stroke himself as her thighs tightened against his ears. But her voice certainly carried, and the taste of her was deliciously erotic. He groaned into her as he waited for her to come down from her high.
She was breathing heavily. Her eyes were half-open as she looked at him. He sat up and grinned. "I didn't think it was possible to love you more than I already do, but my god, Jean, you're incredible."
Laughing breathlessly, she lazily reached out to him. "You're wonderful. And I'm very glad. I can see our honeymoon is going to be exhausting."
Lucien's body covered hers on the sofa as he kissed her again. She could taste herself on his tongue, something she'd never imagined could be so arousing. Her body ached for him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, encouraging him to enter her. He propped himself up to align his throbbing erection with her. He pushed inside slowly. They both moaned loudly at the feeling. He filled her almost to the point of pain. Her warmth and wetness was practically enough to finish him off right there. He'd wanted her for so long, dreamed of making love to her. And as with most things with Jean, reality was so much better than his fantasies.
Jean shifted her hips to accommodate him and he began to move, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. "Bloody hell, Lucien," she swore.
He buried his face in her neck and increased his speed. He already recognized the change in her moans that indicated she was close. Lucien reached between their bodies to stroke her and increase the pressure to encourage her to another orgasm. Almost immediately, she climaxed around him. He thrust frantically to achieve his own completion.
Lucien collapsed on her in sheer exhaustion. Jean sighed and hummed happily, ghosting her fingers across his sweat-slick skin, reveling in the feeling of him on top of her, his body melting into hers. She put feathery kisses on his ear and neck, the only parts of him she could reach.
They eventually sat up and curled up together in a more comfortable position, still gloriously naked. They watched the fire and had another glass of champagne.
"How about here?" Jean asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
Lucien kissed her bare shoulder. "What about here?"
"I know it was you mother's studio, so perhaps you'd rather not but…Lucien, what do you think about moving in here?"
"You mean as our bedroom?"
"Yes. There's plenty of space. We'd have to move some things around. Order a new bed, perhaps. We could make love in front of the fire like this every night if we wanted to. Those doors are very heavy and we're certainly well-removed from the rest of the house."
Lucien considered it for a moment, imagining snuggling up with her like this when they were married, creating a magical world all their own together right here. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."
They shared another kiss in celebration of their decision to create their marital suite in these rooms beneath the gold-leaf ceiling.
All of a sudden, their names echoed through the house. Unsure of what was going on, Jean and Lucien quickly got dressed quickly, doing their best to fix their hair and hide the marks they'd left on each other.
"What's going on?" Lucien asked, finding the parlor full of people.
"Bloody power outage at the Club!" Matthew said a bit too loudly. "And there's only a half hour till midnight! Thought we'd bring the party back here."
Alice was grinning and pink-faced. "Mr. Drury has given us a case of champagne. Rose drove us all over, since she's the only one fit to drive."
Jean's eyes were wide at the scene she found. "My goodness, you must have already had an entire case of champagne between you!"
"I don't know. But you two need to catch up!" Charlie told them, handing over a bottle.
With a resigned sigh, Jean offered to get some glasses. But Matthew stopped her. "We don't need glasses!" He took a swig right from the bottle he was holding.
Lucien laughed and followed Matthew's lead, popping the cork loudly and drinking a few gulps before handing his bottle to Jean. She rolled her eyes and followed their lead.
Charlie turned on the radio so they could hear the countdown to midnight. There was a swing band playing at the moment. Charlie led Rose in a little dance, both of them doing more laughing than actual dancing.
At about two minutes till midnight, Lucien turned down the radio and stood up on the ottoman. Jean shouted at him to get down, but he brushed her off. "Friends, I'd like to make a toast. All of you are the most wonderful family I could have ever asked for, and there's no way I'd rather ring in a brand new year than with all of you in our home. I especially want to toast my gorgeous, brilliant, wonderful fiancée, Jean. My darling, I still can't quite believe you agreed to marry me after all the rotten nonsense I've put you through. I love you more than words could ever say, and on March the twenty-fifth, it will be the greatest honor of my life to become your husband."
"Hang on, you've set a date?" Rose interrupted.
"Oh yes, didn't we tell you?" Lucien asked.
Matthew redirected everyone's attention. "Is that the end of your toast?"
"No, sorry," Lucien continued, "Jean, my love, I will make every day of our lives the most wonderful adventure, like today but a million times better." He beamed at her and wobbled a bit where he stood.
"The countdown's starting!" Alice announced, turning the radio up.
"Ten…nine…eight…" they all chanted.
Lucien jumped down and went to Jean's side. She had an odd expression on her face that he couldn't quite figure out. "Everything alright?" he asked quietly.
She nodded and joined in, "three…two…one…Happy New Year!"
The couples all shared a traditional New Year's kiss. Rose and Charlie knew they were in the company of others and didn't do much beyond a sweet peck. Matthew was a bit too drunk to resist pulling Alice into a passionate embrace, but she pushed him off after a moment, her cheeks blushing violently. Jean and Lucien were still filled with the heady romance of their evening on the sofa and engaged in a sensual kiss, but nothing too inappropriate for public view.
About an hour later, everyone had gone to bed. Alice help Matthew hobble to his room and pass out, promising Jean she'd clean up any mess he made. Rose and Charlie went upstairs to his bedroom. Lucien wished his fiancée a goodnight at the foot of the stairs, wishing they could spend the night together, but it wouldn't do to try that when the house was full like this.
But as he was settling into bed by himself, Lucien heard a noise. He got up to investigate. He found Jean in her dressing gown with a trash bin, picking up the bottles they'd left littered all over the parlor. "Can't that wait till tomorrow?" he asked.
"Perhaps. But I'm not too tired, and I don't want to wake up to a mess if I can help it," she replied, not even glancing in his direction.
He frowned. "Jean, is everything alright?"
She paused her tidying and sat down on the sofa, finally looking up at him. "Your toast. It was lovely, but…Lucien, I want you to know that I don't expect every day to be exciting. I know you put a lot into today, but you don't have to do that for me all the time."
"You want adventure, and I want to give it to you. That's all I meant," he told her, coming to sit beside her.
Jean sighed. "But you don't need to. I need you to know that, yes, I do want to have adventures with you and solve mysteries and travel the world, but I will always be here for you to come home to." She knew she wasn't explaining this very well, but she needed him to understand. "Lucien, I love a day of riddles, but I love cleaning up after a party just as much."
"You do?"
She took his hand in hers. "I just mean that having a life here with you is enough for me. You, just as you are, are enough for me. I don't want you to go to all this trouble giving me what you think I want. I just want you as my husband for the rest of our lives." She swallowed hard, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. She'd never said these things to Christopher when she should have, and he died because of it. She couldn't let the same mistakes ruin her marriage to Lucien.
"Jean, that's all I want, too. I want to marry you and live a beautiful life. And I want that life to include adventures that we can share together. But sometimes those adventures might be sitting right here listening to the radio while you knit."
"You're sure?"
"I am more sure of our future together than I've ever been of anything in my life. I will always be here with you, excitement or not," he promised. Lucien brought her hands to his lips. "Now then, let me clean up these bottles with you so we can get to bed, alright?"
They finished putting everything away and shared one last kiss goodnight. The perfect way to begin 1961.