Forever In Your Arms

The knock on the door was not unexpected. In fact, it had been expected for nearly a week. Jean was in the kitchen, washing the dishes from lunch.

"I'll get it, Jean!"

She smiled. Mattie, the district nurse caring for Doctor Blake, was a such a lovely girl. It had been a very long time since Jean had gotten the pleasure to know anyone like her. Headstrong and intelligent, young enough to be optimistic and self-assured. Jean herself had been like that once. A long, long time ago. Now, it was nice to have that presence in the house.

A man's voice sounded from the door that Mattie had opened. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Jean's smile faded immediately. This was surely the visitor they were expecting. But perhaps this would not go as Jean anticipated. She had to decide very quickly what she should do about the situation.

At the door, Mattie answered, "I'm Nurse O'Brien. I'm caring for Doctor Blake. And you must be his son, Lucien, is that right?" Jean felt a flash of pride for the calm, polite manner with which Mattie handled the younger Blake's rudeness.

"I…yes. I'm terribly sorry. I just hadn't expected a district nurse to answer the door. I received a letter from the housekeeper, Jean?"

"Jean's in the kitchen. We've been expecting you."

"We?"

"Yes, I actually board here. My room is right off the front so I can see to your father during the night if necessary. I made the arrangements with Doctor Blake before his second stroke, before he lost his speech."

At that, Jean ceased feeling pride over Mattie. Doctor Blake's son might be a doctor as well, but it was his father who was slowly dying, and she would have done well to soften the blow a bit. And Mattie did not know that Jean had said very little about the doctor's condition when she wrote to his wayward son asking him to come home to Ballarat. Perhaps Jean had better step in…

But before she could do anything, before she could intercede or decide how to handle the situation, Lucien Blake walked into the kitchen.

Jean turned to see him and her whole being froze. Time itself seemed to stop. His eyes were wide and staring at her, blue and bright and kind and intelligent. His face was lined with his age—Jean would guess he was right around fifty, perhaps a year or so older or younger. He had a neatly trimmed beard, and his mouth was open in surprise. If she had to guess, Jean would have imagined that her expression very much matched his. She knew the cause for her shock. What on earth could his be?

"This is Mrs. Beazley, Doctor Blake's housekeeper," Mattie introduced. She'd been standing right there, but Jean had not noticed. Thankfully, Mattie's voice shook Jean from her reverie.

"Call me Jean," she insisted, squaring her shoulders and schooling her face. It was a good thing, she'd always thought, to insist people call her by her first name. Mrs. Beazley, after all, was a creation of the ages. She had never actually been Mrs. Beazley, though she was the only one who knew that. She was supposed to be, was promised to Christopher Beazley, had been so excited the day her parents paid the dowry. Two lambs, she'd been worth. It was quite a price in those days. But of course her wedding had never come to be. The lambs were slaughtered along with everyone else. Only Jean remained.

"Jean," he repeated, also seeming to come out of the trance. "Doctor Lucien Blake," he said, introducing himself. "Lucien."

She allowed herself to look past his face…his very handsome face…and take stock of the rest of him. He was tall. Very tall and very broad. And though he wore a finely made suit, she could see the strain of his biceps against the material. What caught her attention most, however, was that vein in his neck. His carotid artery pulsed with heat. Jean unconsciously licked her lips, imagining the way that hot blood might thrum…

"I-erm…I apologize for my delay," Lucien said. "It took a little time when I received your letter to get my affairs in order. The government had to send another doctor to the mining town I was assigned to when I gave my notice, and they were having a bout of influenza, I couldn't just leave," he explained. "I hope…well, Nurse O'Brien, could you give me an update on my father's condition? I'd like to know what to expect before I see him."

Jean came back to herself, forcing her thoughts away from her hunger for the man in front of her. He was not just a man with thick-flowing veins. He was Doctor Blake's son. And for now, at least, Jean was still housekeeper for Doctor Blake. She had a job to do. "Let me take your things to your room while you speak with Mattie," she offered.

"Thank you, that's very kind. Which room are you putting me in?" he asked.

It struck her that this was the house where he grew up. He'd probably want his own bedroom. Though Jean did not which one that was. "The bedroom upstairs in the back of the house has been prepared for you," she said, hoping that would be alright.

A tight smile appeared on his face. "That was my parents' room when my mother was alive. My room was upstairs on the right from the landing. Could I have that instead?"

"Oh…that-that's my room," Jean stammered apologetically in response.

He raised his hand to stop her. "Ah, I see, never mind. Well, I've been away a long time. Things change. This isn't my house, after all. The room upstairs in the back will be fine, Jean, thank you."

She nodded and hurried past him with the two suitcases he'd brought inside. Jean felt better when she escaped his presence. She took the cases up and put them in the back bedroom without any more delay. And then she paused, allowing herself some reprieve.

Goodness, this was going to be a problem. She did not quite know how just yet. He was good-looking. That was somehow more of a problem than she'd expected. It was not as though Jean had never seen an attractive man before. She was one hundred fifty-five years old, after all. Plenty of attractive men in that time. But one had not affected her like this since Christopher.

Oh Christopher! Jean shut her eyes tight, willing herself to ignore the way her mind always conjured that last image of his life whenever she thought of him. Her beautiful Christopher, that otherworldly look of him with his pale blue eyes and his carefree smile and his thick, dark hair. He was wild and full of a spirit she'd never before imagined. She had thought she was an adventurer, traveling far from all she'd known in Tasmania to restart the settlement in Sullivan Bay, a whole year on her own before her parents followed her with her younger siblings. She had been thirty years old when she finally put her feet on solid ground again. And in over one hundred twenty years, she had not been on the sea again. She had not left the settlement they eventually called Victoria. She couldn't leave. She couldn't get rid of the terror of seeing her beautiful Christopher with a spear through his chest after that horrific invasion.

"Alright?"

Her eyes snapped open as she heard Lucien's voice. She'd not heard him walk up the stairs. She would need to pay more attention. He was quiet. He was observant. She could just tell. And he had a strong mind.

Jean had instinctively reached out to test him as soon as she'd heard his voice just now, always having tried it out whenever someone snuck up on her. She never knew when she'd need to be ready to alter someone's memories to keep herself safe. But Lucien's mind was strong. Powerful, even. She'd need to try a lot harder to get through his natural defenses if she was going to do anything with this one. A problem, just as she'd known.

"I'm fine," she answered, hoping her silence was not too awkwardly long. The last thing she needed was for him to get even more suspicious. "It's been difficult with Doctor Blake as he is," Jean explained. It wasn't a lie, exactly. Actually it was entirely true, but it was not the reason for Jean's odd behavior right now. She really needed to get ahold of herself.

Lucien nodded. "Yes, Mattie's told me. I'm very grateful to the both of you for caring for him as you have. I hope that I can assist. Ease the burden on the two of you."

"He's your father," Jean countered. Surely this should be more difficult on him than it was on them?

He gave a small shrug. "I haven't seen my father in a very long time. We didn't end on the best of terms. I can't say I know the man very well at all. You, in particular, have a stronger to him than I do."

She frowned. "Have you seen him yet?"

"No, I wanted to take off my jacket and freshen up for a moment first. I want to run a few tests. Not that Mattie isn't perfectly reliable, but just for my own peace of mind, I like to do these things myself," he explained.

Jean nodded. Lucien would feel differently when he saw his father, a shrunken shell of the man he'd once been. He surely had an image of his father in mind. Reality would not match it even if Mattie had warned him about Doctor Blake's condition. No matter what Lucien said, this was going to be difficult for him. Jean had seen countless people lose husbands and wives and children and fathers and mothers. It was never what was expected and it was never easy. Even people who hate their fathers feel a twinge of grief with this most formative experience. Jean herself had, at various points, said goodbye to everyone she'd ever loved. Christopher was not the first for her, and he certainly was not the last. But he was the reason she'd had to learn how to be so good at goodbyes.

She left Lucien to whatever he needed to do and hurried back downstairs. She had to finish her work in the kitchen. And then she'd need to think long and hard about what to do. It should be fine for a few days, but sooner or later, Jean would need to feed on human blood again. And something told her that the presence of Lucien Blake would make it much more difficult.