A proposition for Jack, and Lucien decides Jean is recovering from her head bump!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Lucien would not let Jean do anything for the next few days, except answer the door to his patients and occasionally make some tea. It started to become frustrating for the usually active woman, so she was glad of a little diversion in the shape of Jack, who had decided he'd take the doctor up on his suggestion and visit her to see how she was.
'Jack!' She almost squealed with delight when she opened the door to him and he wrapped his arms round her and lifted her off the floor in a bear hug.
'Well, apart from the lovely bruise,' he smiled, 'you look a heck of a lot better than the other day.'
'I am, thank you.' She agreed, 'I'd cover the bruise with makeup but Lucien says I could get the cut infected and won't let me.'
'Well he is the doctor, mum.' He grinned, 'and I'm glad you're behaving yourself.'
Jean blushed, doing as she was told and behaving were, in her eyes, two very different things.
'Where's the collar?' He asked, noticing she wasn't wearing what he would recognise as a neck brace.
'I only need to wear it if it starts to hurt. I mustn't get used to it.' She answered. 'Now, tea?'
'Great, I could do with a cup.' He followed her down to the kitchen and watched her prepare the tea. 'Where is the doc?' He suddenly realised Lucien hadn't appeared.
'Down at the station, he and Alice are examining the marks on the car and several others that have corresponding damage.' She put a plate of shortbread out, freshly made.
'Still baking I see,' he took a piece and his eyes lit up at the memory of pinching shortbread straight out of the oven when he was a child.
'Yes, and am I going to be in trouble for it.' She grinned, 'I'm not supposed to do anything in the kitchen, poor old Charlie has had to do all the cooking.'
'So why are you disobeying orders?' He looked her straight in the eye.
'Don't be so cheeky, you may be taller than me, but you are still my son.' She teased, laughing at his mock severity. 'I get bored.'
'You could always knit.' He suggested, 'Christopher tells me you keep sending little cardigans and suchlike for Amelia.'
'Unfortunately, at the moment it makes my neck ache, so I'm not knitting or sewing.' She pulled a face at the thought of the mending waiting for her needle and thread.
She poured the tea and they sat at the kitchen table.
'Why did you buy the farm, Jack?' She asked, 'I would have thought you'd want something away from here.' But she looked sad at the thought.
'It came up, in my price range.' He admitted, taking another piece of shortbread, 'I wasn't looking anywhere in particular. All I wanted was room to grow fruit and I remembered there was a small orchard.'
'It's a lovely idea,' She reached over and squeezed his hand, '...and peach trees. They won't produce until next year though.'
'Well there's a good reason to come back, my own personal gardening teacher.' He remarked with a chuckle. Jean joined in the laughing and when Lucien opened the door that was what he heard, his beloved wife laughing, something she hadn't done properly since the accident. He smiled and went to see what had made her laugh.
'Hello, Jack.' He was genuinely please to see he had come to see his mother, he had wondered if he would.
Jack stood up and went to shake Lucien's hand, the hand of friendship.
'Doctor, good to see you.' He smiled. 'I was just being reminded how much mum knows about plants and growing things.'
'That she does.' Lucien went round the table and kissed Jean, properly, why not? Then he glanced at the table, 'Hm...been baking, I see.' He took a biscuit.
'I sat down, Lucien.' She pouted, which made his heart leap, 'and I was getting bored.'
'As long as you're ok.' He stroked his hand over her head, 'I just want you to be comfortable.'
'I'm fine, really.' She smiled up at him.
Lucien took a cup and saucer out of the cupboard and poured himself some tea.
'Lucien, let me make some fresh,' Jean protested, 'that's bound to be stewed.'
'It's o...' he grimaced, 'perhaps you're right, but I'll make it.'
Jean rolled her eyes, she'd have to find a way to show him she was fine, really. Jack leaned over and squeezed her hand,
'He's the doctor, mum.' He reminded her.
'Thank you, Jack.' Lucien turned from the kettle, 'I'm glad somebody's noticed.'
'She's always been stubborn, doc.' Jack told him, 'you won't change her.'
'Hey!' She retorted, 'I am here you know!'
They all laughed and Lucien had to admit, to himself, that really she was well enough to return to most of her duties as his right hand.
'So, Jack, what are your plans with the farm?' Lucien asked as he too tucked into Jean's shortbread.
'Well, the plan is to get it going as a market garden, grow fruit mainly and sell at the market, from the farm and eventually to the hotels and restaurants.' Jack outlined his ideas. 'I know it's going to take a lot and the poisoned soil doesn't help but , hopefully, I'll be able to grow gooseberries and strawberries and other soft fruit.'
'On your own?' Lucien and Jean chorused.
'For now,' Jack admitted, 'I can't afford to hire anyone.'
'Would it help if you had a regular order?' Lucien asked.
'Well, it would, but I can't offer much at the moment, apples and pears are good.' Jack wondered what he was getting at.
'Well, for some time now we have ensured that the orphanage have a regular delivery of fruit for the children.' Lucien started.
'I usually go down to the fruiterers and select the fruit on a Monday,' Jean continued. 'But it's not the same shop every time.'
Lucien looked at her with surprise. When he'd suggested it and asked her to organise it he hadn't actually known how she did it. He assumed it was a regular delivery that he paid for, from one supplier. In fact, Jean had been choosing the fruit and delivering it herself, that way no fruit shop was aware of the arrangement and they couldn't send substandard or damaged goods.
'Well, I could certainly supply some fruit and at a good price.' Jack said, scratching his head. 'But it's seasonal, I can't supply all year round, well not until I can sort out the storage. The old barn needs serious work.'
'Work out your prices and let us know what you can supply now.' Lucien said.
'Ok.' Jack said, he couldn't turn down the trade, 'I'll let you know the figures before next Monday.'
'Lovely,' Lucien grinned.
Jack left feeling somewhat surprised, he had his first order and he knew it wasn't because Jean was his mother. He knew Dr Blake was a champion of local issues these days, Christopher had told him how they had both changed and were extremely well respected in the area, so it only followed he would look to a local man to supply the fruit for a local children's home.
Over dinner Lucien asked Jean why she didn't just let the fruiterers supply the fruit and pay for it when the bill was submitted.
'I did, to begin with.' She served him the first dinner she had cooked that week, 'but I went up to see how it was going and I wasn't pleased with the standard. Bruised and damaged apples and pears, over ripe bananas and dried oranges, not good enough, Lucien.'
'Why didn't you say?' He speared a potato, deliberately.
'You were busy, you'd asked me to sort it out and I was your housekeeper and receptionist at the time.' She didn't look him in the eye, it seemed so long ago, when they had only just become friends, really. 'So I did, but my way.'
'You're wonderful,' he took her hand and kissed it, 'you were then, I just didn't see it.'
She got up and cleared the plates away and he joined her at the sink. They finished the pots and Lucien stood behind her to undo her apron. She leant back against him, and felt his breath on her neck. She sighed,
'Don't suppose you'd like to show me how wonderful, later.' She wriggled against him.
He groaned, 'Why wait?'
'I do like it when Charlie's out.' She turned and lifted her lips to his, opening her mouth just enough to encourage his tongue in.
He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her through the living room and into the bedroom where he lay her down on the bed.
She lay and looked up at him, a sultry smile on her face.
'Lucien,' she breathed...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
She woke and stretched, rolling her head feeling no ill effects from the previous night. She smiled, who knew that wild abandoned lovemaking would cure a sore neck! She looked over at her husband, fast asleep still; and smiled again.
She rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom before going and making a tray of tea for her and Lucien. Charlie was not only out, as she had noted the previous night, he was in Melbourne visiting his mother for the week. She and Lucien had the house to themselves, apart from surgery times. She could confine him to the bedroom if she so wished!
Lucien turned over to find the bed empty. He blinked, where was she, he knew he shouldn't have given in to her last night, her neck...
'Tea, darling.' She pushed the door open with her foot and smiled at him. His sigh of relief at the sight of her was more than audible, it almost rang round the room.
'Jean,' he almost shouted, 'I...'
'Silly boy,' she grinned, 'I have to visit the bathroom sometime.' She raised her eyebrows. 'Where did you think I'd gone?'
'I didn't know, your neck...'
'Is fine, the ultimate cure.' She grinned. '...maybe. It may need more...' she looked at him from under her lashes.
He sank back down into the pillows and sighed again.
She sat on the bed, 'Sorry, am I being too demanding?'
He sat up and laughed, 'Am I allowed to visit the bathroom and have a cup of tea, first?'
'Oh I suppose so,' she feigned annoyance. He slipped out of the bed and she sat admiring his back, the scars were, to her, barely visible, the tight buttocks and strong leg muscles excited her. She had quickly lost her embarrassment at admiring her husband's body and had even lost her shyness at him seeing her naked.
The return of Jack had brought back to mind her life with his father. Christopher had never paraded about naked, he had never taken her as recklessly as Lucien did. He rarely took her nightdress off, just raising it enough for his purposes. But that was the past, this was the present, and what a present!
She was drinking tea when he returned. He smiled at her feigned indifference to his nakedness and went round to his side of the bed. She handed him a cup of tea and moved so she was settled against his shoulder. They drank in silence, a simple, almost meditational act.
She put her cup down on the tray and took his empty cup from him, setting it beside hers. She took the tray and leant over the side of the bed to leave it on the floor. As she did so she felt his finger trace a light line down her back, all the way to the end of her spine, then slipping under her bottom. She rolled over to him and started to run her fingers down his body...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
She turned and looked at the clock on the bedside table, nearly ten o'clock. She would have to get up and bathe, so would Lucien. Her stomach rumbled, the lack of breakfast, other things having taken precedence, was not good for either of them. She pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, heading for the bathroom.
'Where're you going?' A sleepy voice asked.
She turned and smiled, 'Bath,' and glided out of the room.
Sometimes Lucien thought he was dreaming, especially when she left a room like that.
Mei Lin had always been a willing lover, but not as willing as Jean, or as giving. She didn't share the bath or the shower, she didn't seduce him with looks or feigned indifference, that he found incredibly sexy. Jean was a unique woman, partner and lover and she would be the last woman he desired.
He pushed the covers back that she had left covering him. Rolling his shoulders he slipped out of bed and put on his robe. Perhaps Jean would like her back scrubbing or massaging.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The water was growing cold, she shivered.
'Lucien,' she murmured, 'I need to get out and so do you. Surgery is at two and we haven't had breakfast, I need to do some shopping or we don't eat tonight.
'Boring,' he moaned.
'Boring or not, my darling, these things have to be done.' She scolded him and pulled herself out of the bath.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The trouble with Charlie being away for a week was that they had the freedom to do as they wanted in the evenings. The only ongoing case was hers. Who had crashed into her by the turning to the farm. Lucien would be away in the mornings detecting with Alice, searching Ballarat for cars with damage that could have been sustained at the scene, while the police officers looked into car repair shops locally.
Any autopsies would be carried out then, but, contrary to popular belief, Ballarat was not a hotbed of murder. Deaths due to illness could be dealt with by the pathologist, who called in the police surgeon when necessary, but Alice knew Blake was more concerned with bringing the hit and run driver to justice, and not just because it was Jean who was involved. He would have done the same for a tramp.
Jean shopped and baked and cooked meals, everything was normal and usual and ordinary.
The afternoons, two to four, were surgery. Agnes as usual came to be told she wasn't looking after herself; the usual checkups, vaccinations and clinics continued.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jean headed into the studio. Lucien had disappeared after he had helped her wash up after dinner, making a 'call of nature' excuse, and said he'd pour her a drink in the studio, as usual.
She opened the door, the only light was the flickering of the fire and she could see the top of her husband's head as he rested against the back of the chair.
'No lights, darling?' She asked.
'Do we need them?' Was his reply, hinting at something dangerous.
'Well...' She made her way to the chair at the other side of the fireplace, the one facing his, where her sherry sat on the side table. She turned to sit in the chair and only then noticed that Lucien was wearing his robe, and judging by the strong calves stretched out in front of the hearth, nothing else.
'Lucien,' She barely breathed, but he was on his knees, sliding his hands up her legs and she fell completely and utterly under his spell, forgetting her rule about the bedroom.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Well I'll leave that to your imaginations, mine's definitely M, but I don't think I can quite write it!