PART FOUR

Jean had seen photographs of London, and she'd seen it in films, and she'd read about it all her life, but being there and seeing it for the first time, it was simultaneously better and worse than she'd imagined. Everything was dirty and foggy and full of smoke and grime. Paris had been dirty, but perhaps the foreign language had softened the blow. Hearing English in all the proper and improper accents, feeling like she stuck out like a sore thumb with her Australian dialect, it all made her terribly uncomfortable.

But she had Lucien. She had the privilege of seeing the city through his eyes. And his eyes saw it as he did when he was a mere lad of twenty, studying to be a surgeon. He was as excited as she'd ever seen him, because he got to relive those days with her, showing her all the places he'd gone and telling her all the things he'd done. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Jean thought that London must be the most wonderful city in all the world.

"This is where I lived," Lucien told her, pointing up to a very nondescript building of apartments above a pub.

"Why am I not surprised you lived above a bar?"

He grinned. "This pub was actually here back then. I'm glad to see it's still around. Shall we go in and have a pint?"

She scowled at him. "Lucien, I am not going to drink a pint of beer in the middle of the day in public. Actually, I don't think I would drink a pint of beer anywhere at any time."

"Oh come on now, it'll be fun. We can pretend I'm still a student and you're the lovely young woman who's come into the bar and I can fall in love with you all over again."

Jean knew he was just trying to be romantic, but his words rubbed her the wrong way. She bristled at the idea of being chatted up by him when they were young.

Lucien immediately saw the shift in her mood. He placed a hand on her arm with concern. "What's the matter, love? We don't have to have beer. We don't have to go in at all. What would you like to do?"

She gave a small smile. He was very sweet. "I don't know, I think all this talk of when you were young makes me think of when I was young. And I don't much like being reminded of how frightfully different we were, and how, if things had worked out just slightly different for either one of us, we may never have even met. And if we had, we wouldn't have wanted a single thing to do with each other."

"Jean, that simply isn't true! If we had actually met in this pub when we were young, I certainly know I would have tried to talk to you. I've seen photos of you when you were young from Christopher's house, you know. You certainly would have caught my attention. Though perhaps you're right, you wouldn't have given me the time of day," he chuckled. But his expression grew serious, and he tightly held her hands in his. "I can't possibly tell you how much I wish we…"

"No, don't say that," she interrupted. "We don't do that. We don't regret anything in our lives, who we were before. We can't. Because I know you wouldn't give up Mei Lin or Li for anything, just as I would never want to give up Christopher and my boys." Jean put her hand on his cheek, making sure he was looking her in the eye. "If we hadn't lived the lives we did, we wouldn't have found each other. So no regrets, alright?"

He nodded. "No regrets," he agreed. Lucien turned his face in her hand to press a kiss to her palm. "But just for the fun of it…" He took her hand and pulled her down an alley to the back of the pub.

"Lucien, what are you doing?"

He whirled her around, pinning her against the brick wall of the building and kissed her deeply.

Jean melted into the kiss, giving in momentarily. But lord only knew what sort of disgusting grime she was getting on her clothes from the wall. Even if being pressed up against her husband this way was quite nice. She pulled away. "Lucien, this is not Paris, we can't be doing this."

"This is what back alleys in London are for, I promise."

"Oh you have experience, do you?"

"A bit," he smirked. "I was twenty, after all. And just for fun, we're going to spend the day that way. And I'm a student and you're my girl, and I'm spending my day off showing my girl the city."

Putting it that way, she did sort of like the idea. "Well, if you're twenty, I'm…"

"We can both be twenty," he interjected, knowing the age gap between them would have been entirely inappropriate.

She nodded. "Good. I liked being twenty. Before that, I was a skinny thing with knobby knees and a flat chest and a face with entirely too many sharp features. After I had my first child, everything sort of softened."

Lucien pressed up against her again. "Mmm, you are quite soft. Soft and warm and beautiful."

Her heart beat a little faster as his hands roamed her body beneath her jacket, clawing at her blouse. "And what about you, hmm? Were you always this tall and muscular and gorgeous when you were twenty?"

He laughed. "I was this tall, yes, but I was about half the size before I was in the army and learned how to bulk up a bit. And I was clean shaven until I was nearly thirty. I thought the beard gave me more dignity as an officer."

"Well, if we are going to pretend we're twenty, please don't shave your beard. I wouldn't know what to do with you."

"You know, Valerie once asked me why I have whiskers and Uncle Matthew doesn't, and I told her that Uncle Matthew shaves his face and I don't."

"And what did she say to that?"

"She said she was glad I have whiskers because all men look the same and this way she can tell me apart from the others."

Jean beamed happily. Their daughter was an odd little person. So unique, so different than either of her parents or her half-siblings. A personality all her own. "You know I quite miss her. It's been over a month since we left."

"Yes, I miss her, too. I think we can try to call later in the day, with the time change."

He leaned in and nuzzled her hair, closing his eyes, thinking about their daughter. Valerie had been something of a fussy baby, but once she was about a year old, she had mellowed into the most charming child. The only trouble she gave anyone was in the form of far too many questions. Though, Lucien knew, that was bound to happen with Jean and himself as her parents. Curiosity and intellect were deep within her from the moment she was conceived. Lucien smiled to himself, lightly kissing his wife's neck. He had loved seeing her pregnant. It had brought them so much closer, anticipating the birth of their child and Lucien acting as Jean's doctor. It had been such a special, wonderful time for them. And, if it were at all possible, Lucien came to the decision that another pregnancy would be a joyous miracle. They could take every precaution and give Jean the best care available, and he knew that somehow, everything would work out. If she were pregnant. She probably wasn't. Not at her age. But even so, the idea of another child just filled his heart with hope.

"Lucien, despite pretending we're twenty, we certainly aren't, and I don't think we should be spotted necking in a back alley," she whispered as she stroked his hair, his face still buried in her neck.

He sighed, finally pulling away and freeing her from the wall. "You're probably right."

"Well then, where would you take me in your student days, hmm?" she asked, smiling brightly.

"Probably to the pub, so afterwards I could bring you upstairs to my room and have my wicked way with you," he replied with a lascivious grin.

Jean laughed, knowing that he was joking. "Then I'm glad you don't live up there anymore, but I would like a bite to eat, since we're here. And perhaps a pint or two."

"Or two?"

"Well, if I'm twenty years old and my chap is taking me out for the day, I'll get my money's worth. I was much more prone to foolish behavior before I had a life of responsibility, you know. Being the youngest child does give one a sense of safety that didn't shatter for me until I got married, actually," she explained.

Lucien smiled at the thought. "You know, I think if I did know you when we were twenty, you would have terrified me. You'd have chewed me up and spit me out and I would have been infatuated with you for the rest of my life."

"Well we aren't twenty, but I think we ended up at the same place, didn't we?"

"Quite right. You can chew me up and spit me out any day of the week."

"Wait until we get back to the hotel," she said under her breath, a suggestive glint in her eye.

Lucien laughed aloud and put his arm around her waist as they walked through the alley and into the pub. A pint or two might be just what they needed.