In a month's time she would be Mrs Jean Blake, she half smiled at her reflection in the dressing table mirror. She hadn't been this nervous since her mother had given her no hint about what would happen on her wedding night. So why should she be so darn nervous now? She'd been married, so she knew what that side of marriage entailed, but she'd only been married once, and her experience was only with that man. After Christopher had been killed she had concentrated on raising the boys and finding work to keep body and soul together. Finding another husband had fallen off the bottom of her list of things to do, and gentlemen friends had been few and far between, and she had never slept with any of them. In fact, when any man had even hinted at it she had run a mile!

She had loved Christopher, they had worked the farm together; it was hard work and she couldn't have expected him to move the world for her after a hard day in the field, every time. Truth be told he hadn't really, even if he hadn't had a busy day.

She thought back to her wedding night, the first time he had ever touched her that intimately. She'd lain in the bed in the hotel, her new nightdress pulled right down to her knees. So used to pyjamas she felt naked and exposed. He'd got into bed and started kissing her more passionately than he'd ever done before and it seemed obvious to her it wasn't his first time. Still, she'd thought, at least one of us knows what to do. His hands seemed to be all over the place, down the front of her nightdress touching her breasts, her nipples rising as he brushed his fingers over them, then reaching down to the hem of her silky garment and lifting it up so he could touch her 'there'. She's squeaked with surprise and held her legs together, stiffening in worry.

'What's the matter, Jean?' He'd asked, knowing full well she was a virgin, very young and innocent. She had a reputation for being the most pious girl in town, 'we're married now, it's ok.' He'd grinned wickedly at her wide eyes and surprised look. He'd started to kiss her again and slipped just one finger over the curls and between her legs and started to move it backwards and forwards under her until she relaxed, quite liking the feel of what he was doing and opening her legs for him. That was ok, she thought, I can cope with that. Then she'd felt his hardness and before she could register what was happening he was on top her pushing his erection into her, just a little, then back a bit, then all the way, making her scream in what he thought was ecstasy but was, in fact, pain. He'd come into her but she hadn't felt anything but the hurt. He'd sighed as he left her and kissed her cheek.

'Love you.' then he turned over and went to sleep.

Jean hadn't even been able to cry, she just lay there in shock.

It had got better and she had been able to accept his lovemaking, even initiating it on occasions, but it wasn't what she read about. So when it came to sex, Jean could take it or leave it!

Now here she was about to let a man touch her again. A man who had so much more experience, had seen the world. All her friends intimated that he would know things that were well, not usual, different, after all he had been married to an oriental! Another thing bothered her, when she and Lucien kissed on the couch in the evenings he would become aroused, very aroused, not that she didn't expect that, and he didn't ever try anything, but, from what she remembered, when Christopher became aroused it wasn't, well, there wasn't as big a bulge as Lucien's. So would she be able to 'accommodate' him?

Jean had to admit her habit of over thinking things was making her more nervous than less, and she knew she had to talk to someone who could perhaps offer some advice. It couldn't be one of the sewing circle, or any of her housekeeper friends, married or not, so who?

Reading magazines 'Agony Aunt' columns weren't really helpful, except to show that she wasn't alone in her quandary, but the answers weren't much use, although she did now know there were specialists in that area. Maybe she should see one?

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Lucien noticed that Jean was, not distant, but, somewhat preoccupied. Every time he asked her if she was ok she said it was just the amount of things she had to do.

'Could elope, y'know.' He suggested, with a twinkle in his eye.

'There's enough gossip, Lucien, dear.' She pointed out.

She kept on organising the celebratory dinner, to be held at the Club, discussing with Cec the menu and the drinks; the flowers and the witnesses. It gave her an excuse to tell Lucien she was tired at the end of the day, but he was concerned. So concerned he wondered if she was having second thoughts.

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Mortuary, a few days later:

'Dr Blake, Dr Blake!' Alice's voice cut through his musings, 'are you going to weigh that liver or slice it for dinner?'

'Uh, oh, sorry Alice,' Lucien placed the organ on the scales and read out the numbers.

'Is everything ok?' Alice noted the reading on the form.

'Well,' Lucien removed the liver and put it in the dish on the side. '...it's Jean.'

Alice put her board and forms down and looked at him. 'What about Jean?'

'Well, she seems, oh, I don't know, lost?' He pulled off his gloves and scratched his head. 'Alice, I think she's having second thoughts.'

'No,' Alice was horrified, Jean had agreed to marry him, the whole town knew, she wouldn't go back on that decision, 'what makes you think that?'

'She's always tired, she's; Oh I don't know! Preoccupied?' He raised then ran his hands down the back of his head. 'Alice would you, you're her friend, see if she's alright? I, I don't think I'm the one she wants to talk to about whatever it is.'

Alice sighed, typical. 'Honestly, Lucien, do you two ever talk?'

'Well,' he thought, 'we do, about the wedding, the house, which room to use, her role, but...'

'...not the important things, then.' She murmured.

'Eh? What?'

'Nothing, I'll pop round, when you're not there.' She smiled, and they said she was clueless? Oh yes, she'd heard the whisperings.

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'Hello, Alice,' Jean smiled as she opened the door. 'What brings you here?' She liked the pathologist, she was frank, almost innocent in her ways but with a deeper knowledge of life hiding in the background.

'Bored, Jean.' Alice moaned, 'there's nothing for me to do at the morgue and hospital and I hate staying at home.'

Jean grinned, typical Alice, straight to the point. 'Tea?'

'Lovely,' Alice smiled, it was not often she got the chance for a cuppa and a chat with Jean, and Lucien, bless him, had given her the opportunity to do so.

'So how goes it?' Alice asked conversationally. 'The preparations and such.'

'Oh, they're done,' Jean replied, ' all we have to do, now, is show up at the registry office and get married.' But her face showed some trepidation.

'So..?'

'So what?' Jean poured tea and offered Alice shortbread.

'Jean, I know what people say about me,' Alice refused the sugar, ' but I'm not oblivious to everything. There's something worrying you.' She said softly and leant over and squeezed her friend's hand.

'Oh, Alice...' Jean looked down at her hands holding her teacup. 'What if I don't please him.'

'Please him, what do you mean? Lucien would walk over hot coals for you.' She was not sure what Jean meant. Lucien was never happier than when he was with her.

'In bed.' Jean whispered. 'I worry that I won't be good enough.'

'Jean...' what could she say. Jean all men are different,' she started, then looked at the stunned look on her friend's face.

'Like we are.' Alice realised she hadn't phrased that right.

'Alice, the only other man I have ever known was Christopher.' Jean insisted.

'And...'

Jean looked astounded, why would she discuss her bedtime activities with her late husband with someone who had never known him, or someone who had , come to that?

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So what does Jean disclose to Alice and what does it mean for her relationship with Lucien.