XL

Jean was upstairs fixing her hair. She was going to go to Wednesday evening Mass and wanted to look nice. Part of it was just making herself presentable for Mass in general, part of it was making a good impression on Bishop Lascelles, but most of it was wanting to look nice for Lucien. Oh she knew he did not care if her hair was freshly set or not. She did not doubt his love or think at all that it depended on such things. But she wanted to put forth a little extra effort, just to show her care, just so he might see her and derive a bit of pleasure from her appearance.

They'd barely spent more than a few minutes together in the week that the bishop had been in town. Jean missed him terribly. She'd gotten quite used to being able to be with Lucien and be close to him and hurry off to the rectory and close the curtains and fall together in privacy and passion. Thankfully, the bishop was leaving tomorrow morning. Jean intended on assisting with catechism and not going back home until Monday if she could help it. Perhaps that was a bit too risky, but she didn't care, thinking of it now. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to feel his touch and his kiss and his love. As much as she adored her little house all decorated exactly as she wanted, Jean found it rather stifling when she was not permitted to be with Lucien as they'd been the last few months.

A thundering knock on the door interrupted her. With a slight grumble, she put down the roller she'd been about to put in her hair and resigned herself to having limp curls to greet whoever was pounding on her front door.

Jean opened the door to find Lucien standing there with wild eyes and a desperate expression. She didn't even have a chance to greet him when he took two steps toward her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her hungrily.

She vaguely heard the door close. He must have kicked it shut. But she couldn't scold him for it now, not when his mouth moved on hers so seductively and his tongue delving into her mouth.

Lucien pulled back eventually, breathing heavily. He still held her close and rested his forehead against hers. "Jean," he said between ragged breaths.

"What's going on?" she asked, stroking his cheeks comfortingly. As lovely as it was to kiss him again, it was extremely unexpected. He'd burst into her home without a word, and he was clearly quite upset over something.

And that was when she realized that he wasn't in his cassock. He was not wearing his collar. He looked now as he did when they were alone together, in just his shirt and trousers, and that was why she did not immediately notice the difference. But if Lucien had come all the way from St. Catherine's to her front door without his proper priestly attire, something must be very wrong indeed.

Lucien had not answered her yet. His fingers were clenching and fidgeting nervously at her waist. "Lucien," she murmured, needing to push him along.

"Jean, I'm so sorry," he said.

At that point, she had to pull away. "Lucien, what's going on?" she asked again, this time much firmer.

"I…I've left."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. "What?"

He walked around, rubbing his hand on the back of his head as he often did when he was anxious over something. "It all happened so fast, I can hardly…" he muttered.

"Lucien," she snapped sharply, "are you telling me that you have done something to endanger your position in the Church?"

"I had no choice, Jean," he explained. He looked at her with the most pained expression. Her heart nearly softened. Nearly.

Jean was getting frustrated over these vague, half-answers. "What on earth are you talking about? Lucien! Tell me what's happened!"

He swallowed hard and his eyes darted around as he tried to search for the words. "Bishop Lascelles was in my study in St. Catherine's. He had some letters to write, he said, and it was easier to stay in the church than to go back to his hotel. Only he…he needed to find a pen. He opened the drawers of my desk to find one."

It was then that Jean recalled what lurked in the bottom drawer of his desk. What he'd taken from her and hidden away not ten days ago. "And you were fired over that?" she asked worriedly.

"He found…what I'd left in the bottom drawer. And he didn't fire me. He didn't even ask me anything. He held them up with the pen and spoke…so calmly."

Jean felt her face erupt into a flaming blush. The bishop, of all people, had found her knickers stashed away in the priest's desk! Oh god, this was worse than anything she could have ever imagined.

Lucien continued, "He didn't know they were yours. I would never tell him. He said he didn't know how long I'd had them or if they'd been given to me willingly."

She blanched then, at that. For that would have been an entirely different circumstance. A worrying and nefarious and entirely awful situation.

"He said that it was proof that my vow of celibacy was at risk, if not more. Which, well, he's not wrong there."

Jean shook her head. "No, he's not wrong." Her voice came out in a quiet croak. Jean understood now the wild, desperate look he'd had when he'd arrived here. She was feeling much the same herself now.

"But Jean, he was going to transfer me. No discipline, no questions, nothing. Just send me off somewhere else. And I…I couldn't let that happen. I cannot leave you. I'd rather die than be without you, my darling," he told her beseechingly.

In the back of Jean's mind, she found this whole thing to be rather overly dramatic, but given what she knew of her Lucien and how he must have been feeling through this entire saga, she could not much blame him. "So what did you do?"

Lucien's head hung down in embarrassment. Shame, perhaps. But he looked back up, looked right in her eyes, and said, "I pulled off my collar. I told him I'd not leave this town. He could not make me leave, not if I wasn't in the clergy under his command. I renounced my vows, each and every one that I'd broken and all the ones I'd kept."

Jean was in utter shock. How could he do that!? How could he give up everything he'd ever been just like that!? Though perhaps it was better than trying to remain a priest in this town, arguing against a transfer. And he'd not revealed Jean's part in all of this. That was, perhaps, what she was most worried about. He loved her, yes, but he'd ruined his own life and now the lives of the whole parish community in giving up everything just so he could remain here in town with her.

"I love you, Jean," Lucien said emphatically. "And you know better than most that I've been a barely passable priest for years. I clung to life through this job, not being wretched enough to give up and die but being too terrible to actually try for anything better. Until you, Jean. Until you came and brought light to my life and dedication and virtue to my cold heart. I have been happy, these last months, for the first time in nearly two decades, because of you." He crossed over and took both her hands in his. "Let a new priest come here and shepherd the flock. He was going to come whether I stayed a priest or not. At least this way I won't be sent away. I can…we can be together now."

Her head was spinning. She knew that he had offered to do this for her before. He had tried to tell her that they could be together if he left the Church, but now that he'd done it…it felt much the same. The guilt of taking the priest from the parish was threatening to overwhelm her. She felt lightheaded and weak in the knees. This was a disaster of the highest level, and it was all her fault. "Lucien, how could you?" she asked feebly.

"I didn't have a choice," he insisted.

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps he did not really have a choice. When faced with the prospect of being sent away, he had taken the drastic step that neither of them would have otherwise chosen. But surely it was inevitable, that at some point their illicit affair would be found out and they would have to suffer the consequences? At least no one had walked in on them doing anything inappropriate anywhere, causing their public shame.

But their shame would be public, wouldn't it? Lucien, without his proper vestments, hurrying through the streets of town to her house. Surely someone saw him. And what about after this? What would become of them? People might not know now why their priest had left the Church, but he and Jean could hardly be together after this without everyone learning the truth.

"What are we going to do, Lucien?" she asked sadly. Jean had been the subject of angry whispers before. She knew what it felt like to be ostracized by her town. And she had just gotten here, had just started to make some real friends and feel at home here! And in thirteen months, all of that effort would be for nothing.

Lucien pulled her into his arms and held her tight. Her head was tucked under his chin and she nuzzled against his chest. His heart was beating loudly, but it comforted her. Things couldn't really be so bad when he held her like this. "We'll find a way, Jean," he assured her. "I don't know what we're going to do, but I threw off my collar and my cassock and came straight here because no matter what comes next, I know that I need to be with you."

She sighed sadly. "Together, we'll find a way," she said, repeating his words.

"Yes," he murmured, kissing the top of her hair. "Yes we will."