XXXVI
Jean walked through St. Catherine's and smiled pleasantly at the practicing choir. She gave a friendly wave to Mrs. Williams as she went by. That poor choir really was atrocious, but they were all such nice people and so earnest in their efforts. It was hard to fault them, really. And she was still very glad she'd declined Lucien's suggestion that she join the choir. There were far more interesting and enjoyable ways she spent her time now, though only she and Lucien knew that.
With that secretive little smile on her face, she made her way through the church corridor towards the priest's office. Sure enough, Lucien was at his desk, deep in thought over something in front of him.
"There you are," she said.
He looked up and gave a sad sort of smile. "Ah, hello, Jean. Close the door, please."
She frowned, wondering what could be bothering him to react like that. She closed the door as he asked and crossed toward him. She stood beside his chair, leaning back against the desk. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing wrong, really, but rather inconvenient," he said.
"Oh?"
He sighed heavily and handed her a letter. She started to read it but he told her what it said. "The Bishop is coming to visit. For a whole week. He's a nice enough man, but I'm sure you can understand why I'm not looking forward to the visit."
Jean gave a knowing smirk. "Well, I do know you don't enjoy oversight. And unlike his visit two years ago, I think you'll need to put on a better show for him," she said, still skimming the letter. It was signed Bishop Martin Lascelles.
Lucien took the letter back and tossed it aside on the desk as he stood up. He wrapped his arms around Jean and leaned in to kiss her softly. "I think we both know it means no more sleepovers. No more stolen moments."
She hummed in agreement, though she did not like it. It was inevitable with this horrid situation they had to suffer. She knew what it was to have an illicit relationship like this. It was like sneaking around with Christopher when they were in school, before secrets had been drawn into the open on that horrible day she realized she'd fallen pregnant. Only this time she was more than twice the age she'd been back then. She should have known better. They both should have. There were rules to Lucien's station in life, rules that they had trampled over time and again in the months they'd carried on like this. She worried constantly that they'd be found out, that they would be utterly ruined by it. But when she was with him, when he held her in his arms, when he kissed her, when he gave her toe-curling pleasure, all her doubts flew right out of her head.
"Bishop Lascelles is due to arrive on Thursday. We should make sure all your things are out of the rectory before then," Lucien thought aloud.
Her heart sank. It was already Monday. They did not have much time left. "Yes, I'll go start collecting my things," she said resignedly.
"Well, not just yet," he said. There was a little sparkle in his eye at that.
"What are you smirking about?" she asked, almost wanting to laugh at that dear expression on his face.
"Just thinking about what I'll do without you for a whole week. I want to make the most of our time till then. And I'm thinking I might need a bit of a souvenir to remember you by." His voice was low, practically a growl.
Jean felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach when he spoke to her in that tone. "You think you'll forget about me?" she teased. "I assume I'll still have a job during that week, unless you'd rather I just stay home."
"We can figure out the details later, but I won't be able to do this for a whole week, and that's what matters to me right now."
She was about to ask 'won't be able to do what' but he hiked up her skirt and put his hand up underneath it to stroke her through her knickers. Jean couldn't speak after that, only whimper in pleasure.
Lucien chuckled at her reaction and redoubled his efforts. Jean put her hand on the back of his neck to pull her in to kiss her deeply, moaning softly against his tongue. As they kissed, Lucien's hands wandered. She pulled back, confused as to why he'd stopped. But then he began to kiss down her neck, sucking gently on her pulse point. His hands had moved to her thighs and started undoing her stockings.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, wondering what on earth he could possibly think he was doing in his office inside the church with the choir practicing just down the hall.
"I have to unclip your stockings," he explained, his lips still attached to her neck, "in order to do this."
Before she could stop him, Lucien grabbed her knickers and pulled them down. She gasped, and he bent down to pick them up, making her step out of them where they were around her ankles. He swiftly opened a drawer in his desk and put them inside and closed it up again. "Lucien!" she scolded.
"Souvenir," he said, smirking so smugly she didn't know what to do.
Jean was absolutely appalled. And yet…she also wasn't. He was just so satisfied with himself. She could not help herself. She started to laugh.
Lucien's smile grew and he too began to laugh with her. They kissed through their giggles, delighting in their utter joy together.
Eventually she had to pull away to catch her breath. "What do you expect me to do now, hmm?"
He was still smiling. Oh how she loved that smile. He bent slightly to reach her stockings again. This time he was reclipping them. "Go about your day, Mrs. Beazley."
She swatted him in the chest for that. "Lucien! You've taken my knickers!"
"And no one but you and I will be the wiser, eh?"
He was probably right about that. But that did not mean she approved. Though what could she do? It was not so terrible. Her skirt was demure. Her stockings were back in place. Ah well. Jean sighed, "Alright. But that does mean I've got to go collect my things from the rectory and go home again."
"If I recall correctly, you've got a clean set of your underthings in one of the drawers in the bedroom," he noted.
"But wouldn't it be more fun if I just take my things home and stay just like this till I'm home?"
His jaw dropped. Good. That was her intention. It wasn't right that the priest should be the one scandalizing her all the time. She had a bit of a naughty streak herself, one that Lucien brought out in full force.
Jean patted his cheek and pushed him away gently so she could leave. "Enjoy your souvenir," she teased.
With that, she opened the door to his office and left it open behind her as she left. The choir must have finished its rehearsal, as there wasn't any more squawking coming from the nave. But when Jean entered, she saw Mrs. Williams putting her sheet music away. Everyone else must have gone already.
"Good rehearsal today, Mrs. Williams?" Jean asked pleasantly.
The old woman turned to look at her and did not have the kind expression Jean usually saw. No, her lips were set in a hard line and her eyes were cold. "You're a wicked woman, Mrs. Beazley," Mrs. Williams hissed.
"I beg your pardon?" Jean was stunned, not being prepared for such a thing.
"You and Father Blake spend too much time together. It's not right, a widow and a priest."
"I am paid for my work, Mrs. Williams. And I work very hard," Jean countered. It was the truth, after all. Even before their relationship had taken this sinful turn, Jean had spent the same amount of time with Lucien when she was just working as she did now. Except for the sleepovers, of course.
"Hard work doesn't mean closeness like you've got. It isn't right," Mrs. Williams insisted.
Jean did not know what to say. Anxious knots in her stomach threatened to tear her to pieces. But she would not let this mean, bitter old woman see the effect of her words. Jean would hold her head high, as she always did. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Williams. I'll not waste either of our time trying to convince you otherwise, and I'll thank you to keep your vicious opinions to yourself."
With that, Jean walked out of the church. The click of her heels on the marble made her feel powerful. And the slight scratch of her slip against her bare bum, while undermining her words to Mrs. Williams, somehow empowered her as well.