Lucien paced back and forth by the foot of the stairs. He was wearing his nicest suit for the occasion. He'd gone to the Club plenty of times for dinner, but this was a special occasion. This would be the first time Jean was properly on his arm, and he wanted her to be proud to be seen with him. He'd gotten a proper haircut and shave in the afternoon before coming home to dress for the evening.
Jean appeared on the landing and came down the stairs, and Lucien felt all the air leave his body. She was wearing the most exquisite emerald green dress. It flowed around her legs as she walked. The sleeves and neckline were a sheer organza, showing off the loveliness of her. Her eyes were bright and her face smiling. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.
"You look wonderful, Jean," he proclaimed. He offered his hand to help her down the last few steps, kissing the back of it when she reached the bottom.
She thanked him for the compliment and turned to straighten his tie. Her hand lingered on his chest. Surely she felt his heart beat faster at her touch.
But they could not waste time mooning over each other. Lucien shook himself slightly and led her out to the car.
Jean sat closer to him than usual as they drove, for which he was quite thankful. They'd been closer over the last two days. Lucien could not have been more glad. After the frightening run-in with Lester Carr, Lucien and Jean had confessed the most wonderful things to each other. They'd ended up in his bed. And instead of Jean pulling away, full of shame and embarrassment as Lucien had feared, she had kept close to him. Charlie and Mattie had probably noticed that something had shifted, but Lucien did not quite care. Lucien was happy. He and Jean had spent the last two nights falling asleep beside each other and waking up together in the morning. Such things would not last indefinitely, not until Lucien could make his plans to marry her, but knowing that they were both in love and wanting the same things was enormously lovely.
Lucien parked the car in front of the Soldier's Arms and went to open the door for Jean. They walked arm and arm inside to wait for their dinner companions.
It was strange, being back here once again. Lucien had come to this very hotel less than a week earlier after a call about a body. Ruth Evershed had quite literally run into him. And he might not have ever noticed her or gotten to know what a marvelous, brilliant person she was if he had not noticed Harry Pearce sitting at the bar. Lucien's blood had boiled to see the man he'd once revered and even loved in some small way, the man who had treated him so cruelly. But through those few days investigating with Ruth, Lucien's mind had been changed. Really, his heart had been changed. Harry Pearce was a good man, and the circumstances of their last meeting had caused Lucien to forget that. But Ruth with her unflagging loyalty and unparalleled intellect and unexpected charm had reminded Lucien of who Harry was. He was and hopefully always would be his friend.
The man himself came down the stairs at that very moment. He had his arm wrapped around Ruth's waist. She looked unspeakably beautiful in a black off-the-shoulder lace dress. Harry clearly appreciated the cut of it. He had not noticed Jean and Lucien waiting for him, and, thinking he was unobserved, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ruth's bare shoulder. She beamed with joy.
"Oh Ruth, that dress is so lovely," Jean gushed, going to greet them at the bottom of the stairs.
Ruth shook her head. "Harry says spooks wear black so no one notices us, so I've never thought much of it."
"Well I like the dress," Harry insisted.
He got a subtle nudge in the ribs for that remark. Ruth otherwise ignored him. "Jean, that color is wonderful on you!" she exclaimed, giving her new friend a warm embrace and admiring Jean's lovely dress.
"Harry, you're looking quite beautiful," Lucien cried out in jest.
"Oh yes, wherever did you find that tie?" Harry replied, rolling his eyes but playing along anyway.
Ruth gave his arm a playful smack. "Oh stop it."
The four of them walked together down the high street to the Colonists' Club. It was the last night in Ballarat for Harry and Ruth, and Lucien had hoped to give them a nice sendoff. And this was certainly the best Ballarat could do. Lucien held the door for the other three and followed them inside. They were warmly greeted by Cec Drury and shown to their table.
Harry always found himself on guard in new places. Not that he had any reason to be concerned in Ballarat when out to dinner with his friends, but new places activated his training and his finely-honed powers of observations.
The Colonists' Club was a lovely old place. It looked like any other Club in the British Commonwealth, which, given the name, made perfect sense. But Australians, he'd learned, were not exactly like the English. Nor should they be. Hardworking and dedicated people, as far as Harry had found so far. The day before, he and Ruth had gone to the nearby military base to do their official review. The people were friendlier than he was expecting, somehow. But maybe it was Harry who was just happier and lighter than he'd been in perhaps all his life.
He held Ruth's chair out for her, as Lucien did for Jean. The two men gave each other an approving nod. The pair of them were more alike than either would have wanted to admit a few days ago. Certainly even a week ago, Harry would not have thought of Lucien Blake in a million years. And now, after this short but harrowing trip, Harry counted Lucien among the best of friends he'd ever had.
They had just all sat down when Lucien suddenly swore under his breath. Both Harry and Ruth chuckled at that, and Jean scolded him. Lucien got up from his seat, followed by Harry's eyes, and went to a nearby table to speak to an enormous red-faced man who did not seem very kind or friendly at all.
Ruth had noticed, too. Of course she had. "Who's that Lucien's talking to?" she asked Jean.
"That's Patrick Tyneman," Jean said.
Before she could explain, Harry interjected, "He's a politician."
But Jean shook her head. "He's not, actually. Local businessman. The richest man in Ballarat, I think."
Harry hummed knowingly. "Even worse. A man who buys politicians."
"Probably, yes," Jean replied with a small sigh of resignation. "He's not always gotten along with Lucien. But he comes by to have tea with me sometimes."
Ruth regarded Jean curiously. "And why is that?"
"I'm not quite sure, actually. It started with him asking me to talk some sense into Lucien for something or other, which I'm only successful at about half the time, but now he comes by for tea to just talk. He's actually a very nice man," Jean answered.
Before they could ask any more questions about this Tyneman person, Lucien returned. "Sorry for the interruption. Patrick was asking who my dinner companions are and also felt the need to scold me for allowing a gunshot to damage the walls in the building's just bought. I told him that my English friend Harry prevented more damage by absorbing some of the force of the bullet with his arm."
Harry grumbled a bit at that, still feeling supremely stupid for getting himself shot. But Ruth placed a gentle hand on his knee under the table and he suddenly felt much better.
A bottle of champagne was then brought to the table, and when their glasses were poured, Lucien raised his. "I'd like to propose a toast to an unexpected reunion with an old friend and making a new one. Harry, Ruth, you're both welcome back anytime you like, and perhaps one day Jean and I can come see you both in London."
The four clinked glasses and took a sip. Ruth was the first to speak again. "Yes, perhaps you'll come to England for your honeymoon."
The reactions that ensued were something out of some farcical comedy. Lucien choked on his champagne. Jean blushed bright red. Harry just grinned knowingly. If those two had spent the last two days doing even half the thing she and Ruth had gotten up to, then…well…
Lucien quickly recovered and fired back at Ruth, "Well maybe you two can come back here on yours."
Harry's heart leapt in his chest at the very idea of it. Not honeymooning in Ballarat; he'd rather get shot again. But the idea that he and Ruth might get married and even have a honeymoon was almost too incredible to contemplate.
But Ruth just gave a nervous little smile, averting her gaze and worrying her hands on her napkin. "Perhaps we might," she mumbled.
Jean began to play along. "We'll have to keep in contact, surely. We can coordinate. Maybe the first of us to get married can take a honeymoon trip to see the others' wedding," she teased.
Harry just smiled. "That is a very good idea, Jean." He turned to his friend rather pointedly. "She's far more clever than you are, Lucien."
"Oh yes, I know. It seems to be a trait we have in common, Harry, falling for women who are our superiors in every regard."
"Don't I know it," he agreed with a small bark of a laugh. "But I think we're both smart enough to know not to let them go."
"Here, here," Lucien agreed clinking his glass with Harry's once more.
"Oh stop it, you two," Jean scolded lightly.
The four of them finally settled down and looked at the menus. But Harry glanced over to Ruth and caught her eye. They shared a smile and Harry's heart grew warm.
Maybe they would come back here on honeymoon. After all, it was quite nice. And Ruth had liked that golden daylight.
THE END