Chapter Four: Returning
After their wedding, James and Jean danced to "Falling in Love Again," a song that Jean felt was ironically appropriate, considering the circumstances. She was "falling in love again", and she wanted to enjoy the feeling for as long as it lasted.
She and James danced for several more songs before she asked him if it was time to go to bed. He smiled down at her lovingly and wrapped an arm around her waist before leading her up to their room.
Once inside their suite, James embraced her, one hand straying to her breast and the other straying to her buttocks. She brought her hands to his belt and began to unbuckle it while he caressed her. Suddenly he scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bedroom, before laying her gently on the bed. She gripped his shirt and pulled him on top of her.
He unzipped the back of her dress and dropped it on the floor, before taking off his clothes as well. She pulled him down on top of her again and gripped his shoulders hard as he entered her, completing their oneness that had begun with their marriage that evening.
Three days later, James and Jean stood on the deck of the Philae, the steamer that would take them up the Nile from Aswan to Luxor. They waved merrily to the people on the shore, who included James's mother and brothers, before taking refuge under the awning on the top deck.
A waiter came round to offer them beverages, and James ordered a bottle of champagne. The waiter returned promptly with an ice bucket and two champagne flutes, and James popped the cork.
"To us," he said, repeating Jean's words from two weeks ago.
"To us," she echoed, and once more their glasses touched. Jean relaxed in her husband's arms, sipping champagne as they watched the Nile drift by. She dozed in the lazy afternoon sun, content at last with her life.
James, however, felt no such peace. Guilt about not telling Jean that he had known her fiancé, that he took Hugh's letters and photographs after his death was gnawing at him. He needed to tell her, but at the same time, he couldn't. How did you tell someone that?
She stirred, her sleepy eyes peering up at him. "What time is it, darling?" she asked him, stifling a yawn. He checked his watch.
"A quarter to five," he replied.
She sat up straighter and stretched. "Mmm. We'd best freshen up for tea, then," she said, standing.
"All right," he agreed, standing as well and wrapping an arm around her waist. "Let's go."
Tea was served in the lounge, and James and Jean had a chance to meet their fellow passengers. There was a French family on board, consisting of a mother, father, and two young daughters; and elderly British man and his young nurse; a middle-aged American woman with her adolescent son; and a young married couple from Canada.
James and Jean sat with the American woman, Fiona O'Neill, and her son, Patrick O'Neill. Fiona was a schoolteacher, and she and Jean eagerly discussed different teaching methods. James involved Patrick in a conversation about ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses.
Too soon, it seemed, it was time to change for dinner, and both groups postponed their conversation reluctantly. Upon arriving in the dining room, however, all were glad to see that they were seated at the same table. Jean and Fiona spent the rest of the trip chatting – they had become quite good friends by the end of the trip.
For both Jean and James, the trip came to too quick an end, for at the end of the trip, they had only a few more days before they travelled to Edinburgh to begin their new life together.
When they docked in Luxor after a week on the Nile, Fiona and Patrick rejoined Fiona's husband and Patrick's father Walter in Luxor, en route to Abydos, and James and Jean made their way to the Winter Palace Hotel, where they would stay for three days before returning to Cairo.
Those three days were very full, with visits to Queen Hatshepsut's funerary temple, the Colossi of Memnon, Luxor Temple, Karnak Temple, and the Valley of the Kings. At the end of those three days, they once more boarded a train, this one bound for Cairo. From Cairo, they took an aeroplane back to Edinburgh.
Upon arriving in Edinburgh, they took a taxicab to Jean's flat. When they arrived, walked up the stairs, and were outside of her front door, she became very shy – it wasn't a very large flat, after all, and she knew that he was used to much better things, after all. And what if he didn't like it? As she unlocked the door, she felt the world drop out from beneath her as James lifted her easily and carried her over the threshold. When he set her down, he drew her into a deep kiss.
"I hadn't realised until now how much I had missed Scotland," he said. "But I know that it is because you are here with me that it is the most marvellous place in the world."
"Mmm, I love you," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. He broke out of the kiss only to bring in the remainder of the luggage and to close the door of the flat, before she reclaimed his lips passionately and she led him into the bedroom.
Two days later, a Friday morning, Jean told James over breakfast that her "special girls" were coming for tea.
"You see, I have my "set" of girls who are very dear to me, and they come for tea every Friday afternoon. I'd like for them to meet you, if you don't mind."
"Of course not, darling. Do you want me to stay the entire time, or do you want some alone time with your girls?" he asked.
"I'd actually like some alone time with my girls, darling," she said. "Thank you for understanding." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
"I'll let you introduce me, then go for a walk – re-acquaint myself with Edinburgh."
"Thank you, my dear," Jean told him. He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.
"I love you, Jean," he told her.
At five o'clock, a knock sounded on the door of Jean Brodie's flat. Jean opened the door to reveal her four girls.
"Miss Brodie!" her girls cried, and she hugged them before ushering them into her flat. They took a seat at Jean's dining room table.
"Girls, I have someone I'd like for you to meet," she said, smiling and blushing becomingly. "Why don't you pour the tea, Sandy dear, and I'll be back in a moment."
Jean walked down the hallway to get James, and the moment she disappeared from sight, her girls began speculating as to the identity of the person Miss Brodie wanted them to meet.
"Did you see the rings on her finger?" Sandy whispered. Monica, Jenny, and Mary nodded, eyes wide.
"I bet she married Mr. Lowther!" Mary said.
"Don't be stupid, Mary," Monica said derisively. "Miss Brodie was in Egypt, remember? Mr. Lowther was here."
"And why would Miss Brodie need to introduce us to Mr. Lowther?" Sandy snorted. "We already know him."
At that moment, Miss Brodie returned to the dining room, a tall, tanned man with dark hair and blue eyes following her.
"Girls, I'd like you to meet James Azhar – my husband. James, this is Sandy, Mary, Monica, and Jenny; my special girls."
"Very pleased to meet you, girls," James said, sketching a bow, an arm wrapped around his wife's waist.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Azhar," the girls chorused.
"And congratulations!" Jenny chimed in.
"Thank you, Jenny, dear," Jean said.
James smiled down at his wife. "All right, darling, I'll see you in a few hours," James said, giving her a kiss. He walked out the door, pausing only once to blow her a kiss before he left.
"Oh, Miss Brodie! Miss Brodie!" Monica exclaimed as the door closed behind James. "You're married!"
"When? Where? How did you meet him?" Sandy asked.
"Girls, girls! I will tell you everything. Sandy, will you pour me some tea, please? Thank you. Now, let me see – let's start at the beginning. James was my dragoman in Egypt. We fell in love at first sight, and he proposed to me a week later. We were married by his father, the Prime Minister of Egypt, two weeks ago, and we honeymooned on the Nile, then in Luxor, before returning to Edinburgh."
"How romantic," Monica sighed.
"Does this mean we won't have Sunday lunch at Cramond anymore?" Mary asked.
"It does mean that, Mary," Jean said patiently. "Once the school year begins again, we'll have our Sunday lunches here."
"Will Miss MacKay still allow you to teach at Marcia Blaine now that you're married?" asked Sandy.
"I expect so. James's aunt on his mother's side is on the Board of Governors, and I doubt that Miss MacKay would want to offend the son of the Prime Minister of Egypt," Jean told them.
"I'm glad that you're happy, Miss Brodie," Jenny said.
"Thank you, dear. Now, who would like some biscuits?"
While Jean and her girls were having tea, James re-acquainted himself with the city of Edinburgh. He walked around the old city, then the new, before entering the building where Jean had her flat. He unlocked the door and was greeted by the sight of his smiling wife serving dinner.
"Hello, darling. Did you have a nice time with your girls?" he asked her, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a kiss on her lips.
"Very. Did you have a nice time as well?"
"Yes – rediscovering Edinburgh was quite nice, though I wish that you had been with me. Maybe you can show me your favourite places next time."
"That sounds marvellous, darling," she said.
They sat down to a mouth-watering dinner of lasagne Verde.
"Delicious, darling," he said at the end of the meal. James cleared the plates and would not let her help.
"No, Jean – you cooked, I will clean. This is a marriage, after all, and it should be an equal partnership. I love you, and I want this to be a successful marriage."
She looked at him in surprise. Gordon had never offered to clean the dishes after she cooked for him. As James cleaned up, Jean entered the parlour and curled up on her sofa, thinking about how life had changed since her marriage.
James was a wonderful man – so considerate, loving, caring – he was a marvellous companion, excellent lover, and such a fine person. Being married to him was how she imagined being married to Hugh would have been like. It had been a moment of madness on her part when she had agreed to marry James, but she was glad that it had happened. She envied James, and marrying him was the best decision she had ever made.
Her husband joined her on the sofa, and she pressed her body against his.
"I love you, Jean," James said, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her lips.
"And I love you, James," Jean replied. She shifted her weight so that she sat perched on his knees, facing him. Their lips met again, and she pressed her hand against the growing bulge in his trousers. He let out a low moan and she smiled in response. Just as she began to unzip his trousers and he started on the buttons on her blouse, a knock sounded at the door. She sighed and buried her face against her husband's warm neck, but the knocker was insistent. With great reluctance she stood up and made her way to the door. She opened it and was faced with Gordon Lowther.
"Gordon!" she gasped, smoothing down her hair and re-buttoning her blouse with fumbling, nervous fingers. He took in her dishevelled appearance with a shocked eye.
"Hello, Jean. May I come in?" he asked, not waiting for an answer but pushing past her into her flat. She rushed after him, trying to stop him from entering her parlour. He strode forward but stopped dead when he saw James on the sofa, hastily zipping up his trousers and buckling his belt.
As James stood, Gordon walked towards him forcefully and punched him square in the jaw, knocking the surprised James back onto the sofa.
"Gordon!" Jean cried, flying at him and hitting his chest with her fists. James stood up, holding a shirtsleeve to his bleeding lip, and eased his free arm around her waist, pulling her down to the couch.
"Jean, darling, it's all right," he soothed her. James looked back up at Gordon, then at Jean, but held his tongue. Gordon, however, did not.
"Jean, who is this man? Why is he in your house?" Gordon asked her, barely containing his fury.
"My husband," she snapped. "And who are you to question that? This is not your house, we are not married, and you have no control over me."
"Jean," James whispered. "Calm down. It's all right."
"What?" Gordon interjected. "Your HUSBAND?" He advanced towards James again, but Jean stepped between them. James squeezed Jean's shoulder lightly.
"Yes," said James calmly. "I am James Azhar, Jean's husband. We've been married for two weeks now."
Gordon's gaze travelled from James to Jean.
"Well, then," Gordon said. "I can see that I won't be welcome here any longer," he continued. "Goodbye, Jean." Gordon leaned toward Jean and gave her a light kiss on the lips, to which she did not respond. Gordon left the parlour, and a few moments later they heard the door slam. Jean buried her face in James's chest, but he held her back from him so that he could look in her eyes.
"Who was that, Jean? A former lover?" James asked.
"Yes," she admitted reluctantly. "He is the music teacher at Marcia Blaine, Gordon Lowther. We've been lovers for the past four years. He was in love with me, but I was not in love with him. I was in love with Teddy Lloyd, the art master at Marcia Blaine, but he is married. At least, I believed myself in love with him – before I met you. Because I couldn't have Teddy, I yielded to Gordon's pursuit of me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Jean finished.
Once more James felt guilty about not telling Jean that he had known Hugh, but once again he pushed his guilt aside. Once more she buried her face in his chest and this time James cradled her head in his large hands, stroking her thick golden hair. He sat down on the sofa and she curled up in his lap.
"I hope that this Teddy Lloyd won't attack me as well," James said wryly. Jean sat up in his arms and touched his still-bleeding lip with gentle fingertips. He winced.
"Oh, James! I'm so sorry – does it hurt much?" she asked.
"A bit," he admitted, wincing again as he spoke. Jean stood up and hurried into the kitchen, wrapping some ice in a dishtowel, bringing it back to James. She sat back onto his lap and held the ice up to his injured lip. He sighed in relief as the bleeding abated. Jean returned the bloodied dishcloth to the kitchen to soak in cold water, and then persuaded James to take a hot bath.
After undressing James, she shed her clothes as well and joined her husband in her large, claw footed bathtub, washing his back tenderly and kissing his shoulder, her hands slipping around to caress his pectorals. Her hands slipped even lower and massaged his swiftly-hardening cock. He stopped her hands from continuing in their task and he stood up from the bathtub, pulling the plug and allowing the water to drain out, before lifting her out of the bathtub and perching her on the edge of the counter. He encouraged her legs to wrap around his hips, and he pulled her up against him so that his erection was pressing into her entrance. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered herself onto him, moaning as he filled her. He walked over to the bathroom door, his arms underneath her thighs holding her against him still, and closed the door, pressing her back against it as he moved in her. With each thrust, he penetrated deeper and deeper, and her legs tightened around his hips in time with his cock pulsing within her. Her hands gripped his back as she neared orgasm, and she finally cried out his name as her passion exploded.
He stilled his trusts and moved one hand up her back as her breathing returned to normal. Reaching behind her, he opened the bathroom door and walked to their bedroom, still carrying her. He withdrew from her, placing her on the bed, before rolling her onto her back and entering her again. Although she was still recovering from her previous orgasm, she became aroused almost immediately, gripping the blankets spasmodically as he thrust into her, her moans increasing his arousal. He couldn't wait much longer, but he managed to hold himself back until she came again, when his self-control abandoned him and spurred on his release.
Later, as they lay in bed, James asked Jean about Gordon.
"Did he make you happy? Was he a good lover? Do you regret marrying me?"
"Oh James," she sighed, kissing his chest. "No, to all of your questions – he did not make me happy; he was not a good lover; and I don't regret marrying you. He was not a very considerate person – you are, my darling! Gordon asked me to marry him so many times, but I always refused him. I accepted your proposal because I love you! You make me happy – you are such a giving, generous man; you are a marvellous lover; and I do NOT regret marrying you. I love you – I never loved Gordon."
"I've never been happier than when I am with you, Jean," he told her, tightening his embrace. "You are my everything."
She nuzzled his neck as his breathing slowed, and though he fell asleep quite quickly, she lay awake in his embrace, praying that when she did see Teddy again, the confrontation would not be as violent as the confrontation with Gordon.