This chapter alludes to the murder of Genevieve, but assumes that Lucien went 'walkabout', instead of following Jean to Adelaide as in the series.

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Jean spent the next few days before Ruby arrived making sure she was on top of everything in the house, Lucien said she was like a cyclone blowing through the house and more than once he made her a cuppa and sat her down, to take a breath.

'Jean, slow down.' He smiled one afternoon, 'the house is perfect, as always. You'll be too tired to appreciate Amelia at this rate.'

'I just need to...'

'What?' Lucien threw his hands in the air, 'you've vacuumed and dusted the house from top to bottom and then from bottom to top. The place gleams. I daren't stand still in case you dust me!'

'Just one or two more meals to go in the freezer.' She gulped the tea down and made to get up.

'Oh no you don't.' He teased, putting his hand on her shoulder and holding her down, 'you stay there and have a break. Doctor's orders!'

She giggled at his serious face. It was nice to have him back she thought. Now he had dealt with the manner of his mother's death; which would always haunt him, and seen Clement off to prison for a very long time, if he wasn't hanged; the doctor had changed. He'd disappeared for a week, probably Melbourne, certainly not far, and come back, relaxed and a lot happier. She didn't ask him where he had been or what he had done, that was for his own conscience, and really, she didn't want to know.

He sat next to her, 'Thank you, Jean.' He lifted her hand and kissed the fingers. 'For not asking questions I can't answer,' he seemed to know what she was thinking, 'but you have nothing to worry about, I haven't brought the family name into disrepute.'

'I know.' She whispered, a little embarrassed at his touch, 'I think I knew as soon as you came home. I'm glad you did come home, though,' she looked down, 'I missed you.'

'I missed you too,' he grinned at her shyness, 'nobody to tell me when I've had enough whisky, or when I've overstepped the mark.'

She looked into his eyes, she thought she saw tears there, and smiled.

'I really must get on, Lucien.' She pulled her hands away, aware something was happening she never thought would, and wasn't sure about, 'or you won't get any dinner tonight.'

He watched her take the tray into the kitchen, noting she had a particularly sway to her hips, that was rather fetching.

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'So, Ruby and Christopher arrive tomorrow,' Mattie noted, 'well, you've done everything to make them comfortable.'

'After what Christopher has told me I...I, oh damn!' Jean slapped down her cutlery, 'Ruby is a spoiled brat, nothing I do will be right, but I'm damned if I will be accused of being inhospitable!' She stood up and took her plate to the sink.

Those round the table gasped at Jean's outburst. Lucien stood up and went to her. He put his arms round her, something he had never done before,

'Jean,' He whispered.

She fought his hold, 'Lucien,' she hissed.

'Stop!' He commanded, 'Ruby will be fine, and any slight on your welcome will be dealt with.' He turned her round, 'Stop worrying.'

'I can't help it.' Jean looked into his eyes and sighed.

'You weren't this bad when dad came to stay,' Mattie told her, 'think of it that way, she's nowhere near as 'important' as him. She's your daughter in law, family, she will have to take us as she finds us.'

Jean looked round at her housemates, always happy to muck in, grateful for all she did for them, they would support her.

'I suppose so.'

'Good,' Lucien kissed her forehead, 'now scoot, me and Charlie will wash up, you ladies can go and have your sherry.'

For the first time since Christopher had accepted the invitation, she laughed, more at being told to 'scoot' out of her kitchen, than anything else.

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Jean and Lucien sat together in the living room. She had picked up her knitting but seemed distracted. This was probably the last evening for a while that they would have the time to themselves. She always liked the quiet, before they retired. A drink, maybe a talk, go through the day's issues or not, but always the peace between them.

'Jean?' Lucien looked over his newspaper.

'Hm?' She looked up, a small smile.

He got up and went to sit next to her, 'you seem, I dunno, lost.'

'Oh.' She sighed, 'I'm alright. Just wondering.'

'About..?'

'Whether it was the right idea.' She put the knitting down.

'Oh Jean.' He smiled at her, 'you think too much, sometimes. Everything will be fine.'

'But, Ruby...'

'You're not usually this indecisive,' he was beginning to worry about her.

'I know, it's just,' She heaved a big sigh and stood up. She stared out of the window, 'well...'

He went and stood behind her and put his hands on her upper arms. Usually this contact would have her stiffen but not this time, she seemed to relax into him. He slid his hands down her arms and drew her to him in a soft embrace. Usually it was her giving him the comfort, the strength, now it seemed roles were reversed.

She turned round in his arms and lay her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart soothing her. He rested his chin on her head and smiled to himself, he could stand like that forever, if she'd let him. He felt her arms circle round him and he enveloped her in a gentle but firm hold, closing his eyes and breathing in her own scent, clean soap, fresh shampoo, all uniquely her.

They stood there for what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, until she lifted her head to look at him. She knew she should pull away, but didn't want to, improper as it seemed.

'I should go up,' she whispered.

'Of course,' but he didn't release his hold on her.

'Lucien,' she brought her hands to his chest, 'I, er...'

He bent down, knowing he was taking his life in his hands, and very gently pressed his lips to hers. He did not expect her to respond the way she did, he expected a slap to the face, instead she pushed her arms round his neck and parted her lips. The kiss became deep, passionate and long. When they finally parted she leant her head against him and looked down, suddenly embarrassed at being so forward.

He stroked her back, wondering what had just happened. He liked it, but he wasn't sure if she would want it to happen again. That wasn't up for discussion, yet, now he had to let her go and retire for the night.

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Jean lay in her bed thinking about what had just happened. It was difficult to wipe the smile off her face, it was so long since she had been kissed, and never as passionately as that, she had enjoyed it. She turned over. Their relationship was definitely changing and for the better she hoped. She wasn't sure if it was love, infatuation or just simply that they were gradually becoming a special kind of partnership. She drifted off to sleep and dreamt of his arms round her, strong and safe.

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Lucien smiled as she watched her go up the stairs. He was still reeling from her acceptance of his kiss, his arms round her. Jean had a lot of something special to give, under that sometimes, rigid front she put on. He supposed, like him, she had no reason to jump headlong into a relationship and she had standards of behaviour that didn't cover passionately kissing one's employer.

He had come to rely on her like no one else, Mei Lin had relied on him for a particular standard of living, comfort in troubled times and to keep her safe. He'd managed two of those but failed in the last one. If there was any chance he could make anything of something between him and his housekeeper, he hoped it would be more of an equal partnership, she was too strong to allow him to lead her all the time, and too clever to be ignored. How many times had she given him the answer to a problem with a case, or shown him how to deal with a particular patient beyond the medical side of things. As he sat on his bed thinking, he decided that perhaps, indeed, he did love Jean, for all the things Mei Lin wasn't.

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Jean was confused, Lucien was up and out before breakfast and she hadn't heard the phone ring. She continued with her routine and after everyone had had breakfast she went round the house with a quick flick of the duster. Lucien and Mattie were right, there was nothing left to do. Her son and his family were due mid to late afternoon. She would put a casserole in the oven for the evening meal and there was enough in the fridge for lunch. She thought she might spend some time in the garden, dead heading and pruning.

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Lucien pulled the car onto the drive. He'd had a successful morning. He'd finished his paperwork in the morgue and told Alice he was unavailable for the rest of the day, he had something to do before surgery. Then he'd gone to the club to collect something from Cec, always happy to oblige and always discreet.

Now, where was Jean? The house was quiet, she wasn't in the kitchen or the living room so he checked the sun room. Through the window he could see her, a handful of stalks and her pruning shears, brushing her hair off her forehead with the back of her hand.

He wandered up to her, nonchalantly.

'There you are.' He smiled, 'come on.' He took the stalks and shears out of her hands, 'go and wash up, get your coat or jacket or whatever. I'm taking you to lunch.'

'Lucien,' she gasped, 'you can't take your housekeeper to lunch!'

'I know,' He grinned, 'picnic, Invermay. Now go and do whatever.'

She stood staring at him, she didn't have time to make up a picnic, and she told him so.

'Sorted, Cec.' He pushed his hands into his pockets, 'go on.' He nodded in the direction of the house. She felt hijacked, in a rather nice way.

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They found a shady spot under a tree and Lucien shook out a rug for them to sit on.

'I wondered where you had gone,' she leant against the tree, 'when you weren't at breakfast.'

'Thought about all you've done this week,' He opened the basket Cec had provided, 'and decided you needed a break.' He pulled out cold meat and sandwiches, salad, fruit and a bottle of lemonade and two glasses. 'I knew you wouldn't let me take you to lunch in town, so I thought maybe you'd let me bring you out here for a picnic.'

'It's a lovely idea,' She smiled and wondered when he had become so thoughtful. The food was lovely and it was very pleasant to sit in the sunshine with someone and chat about nothing in particular.

They put the things back in the basket and sat sipping their drinks in companionable silence. He watched her sigh and close her eyes against the sun. When she relaxed like that he felt at peace. He shifted over and kissed her cheek, gently. She smiled, but didn't open her eyes, then turned her head towards him. They were the only ones in the park. He took the glass out of her hands, knowing he was very likely to get the slap he didn't get last night, but was prepared to risk it, that and the stony silence on the way home; and drew her to him to kiss those soft lips. Her hands slip up his arms and round his neck and she gave in to the wanton behaviour she would never have allowed a month ago. The kiss was every bit as passionate as the kiss the previous night, his arms as strong, until they pulled away, breathless and giggling.

'We'd better go home,' she whispered, 'surgery.'

'Ever my practical Jean.' He kissed her ear.

'Lucien?' She asked, shyly.

'Yes, Jean.'

'Can we do this again, the picnic, I mean?' She blushed.

'We can do whatever you want,' he smiled, 'and wherever you want to do it.'

They walked arm in arm to the car where Lucien put the basket on the back seat. He opened the door for her. She was about to get in when she turned to him again and reached up to kiss his cheek,

'Thank you.' She breathed.

'My pleasure.'

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They pulled up on the drive and both sighed, then laughed.

'I'll just take this basket back to Cec.' He leant over and opened the door for her.

'Thank him, for me,' she smiled, 'I know he's the soul of discretion.'

'I will.'

'...and, Lucien,' she put her hand on his arm and indicated he should wipe his mouth, clean off the lipstick still evident.

He watched her go into the house, swinging her hips, just for him. Life, he thought was getting interesting.

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While he was out she checked everything was ready for surgery. The waiting room was tidy, his consulting room was ready, files on his desk. In the mirror she checked her hair was neat and her lipstick in place, a quick touch up and all present and correct. She smiled at herself. She had time to put the casserole in the oven and prepare the vegetables before the first patient arrived.

The rest of the day went as it should, surgery was busy and so kept her mind off the coming visitation. Charlie and Mattie were going to come home a little later than usual, in time for dinner, but they wanted to give Jean time to greet her son without having to introduce extra people. Lucien would greet them with her, it was his house after all.

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There was nothing left for Jean to do, except wait. Lucien suggested they have some tea, or perhaps sit in the garden, or both. She smiled, such a simple pleasure but actually all she wanted to do was curl up in his arms on the couch and let the world go away. But that wasn't possible so she agreed to tea in the garden.

As they washed the pots she smiled again. Tea in the garden had been pleasant, relaxing.

'You know we'll have to be careful, with Christopher and Ruby around, never mind Mattie and Charlie'. She tipped the water away.

'You're right. No more picnics at Invermay for a while,' he murmured.

'Or kisses in the evening.' She blushed at the very thought.

'We'll think of something.' He folded the tea towel and placed it over the chair, kissing her cheek as he did so.

'...and none of that.' She teased, 'well not when there's anyone about.'

'Except the lodgers.' He grinned, 'I think they've got the idea by now.'

Jean giggled, and the giggle turned into a laugh as she realised he had kissed her on the cheek or the forehead often, especially recently.

A knock on the door interrupted their mood. Jean took off her apron and smoothed down her skirt. She tiptoed up and kissed his cheek then sashayed up the hall. As he watched her he wiped the faint trace of lipstick off his face and then followed her.

'Coming!' She called, lightly. He watched her open the door, every move was poetry to him now, and there stood Christopher and Ruby, and from the pram there came the thin wail of the baby.

'Christopher, Ruby,' she greeted them sweetly and cheerfully, 'so lovely to see you.' She turned to Lucien, 'doctor, could you help with the pram, please?'

'Of course, Jean.' He went to do her bidding and noted that they had used the tray under the pram to carry most of the luggage.

The pram manhandled in, Lucien remarked the baby sounded hungry.

'She's just been fed,' Ruby snapped, as if he were commenting on her parenting skills.

'Right, of course.' He backed off, but he was a doctor and that was the cry of a hungry baby. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jean biting her lip.

'You're in the guest room, Christopher, I've borrowed a bassinet for Amelia.' Jean turned her attention to the adult guests.

'Thanks mum.' He smiled, but he looked tired, fraught even.

'Why don't you two un pack and freshen up, I'll take Amelia,' She looked at Ruby's sullen face, 'if that's alright with you?'

'Fine.' Ruby headed into the room without a backward glance at the pram, or Jean.

'Sorry,' Christopher mouthed.

Jean picked the child out of the pram. She was so tiny, pale and drawn. She turned to Lucien, worry on her face. He propelled her to the kitchen.

'Did you get any formula?' He hissed in her ear.

'Yes.'

'Right, get a bottle on the go, I'll make tea.' He told her, 'make it half strength, she's dehydrated as well as hungry.'

'But Ruby...' Jean whispered.

'...will need a check up after such a long journey.' He set the kettle to boil, 'I'm a doctor...'

She smiled, 'Thank you.'

He kissed her cheek and they set about to their respective tasks, both wondering what they had brought into their home.

Lucien took the tea into the living room leaving Jean in the kitchen, rapidly cooling to bottle of formula for Amelia. He'd done a cursory check of the baby, finding her fontanel sunken and her nappy dry.

'Definitely dehydrated.' He proclaimed. 'Give her as much as she will take of the milk then, water.'

'Yes, doctor.'

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Christopher and Ruby left their room, after he had told her to take note of what the doctor told her, and to be polite to his mother.

'You are lucky the doctor offered to let you come and stay.' He gripped her arm, 'and he's a good doctor, while yours in Adelaide are nothing to write home about. Mum will help you with Amelia and you can get some rest.'

'She'll take over,' Ruby hissed.

'Yeah, well maybe.' Christopher snarled back, 'but at least she'll take advice and knows how to look after a baby. You have ignored everything the nurses and doctors have told you about Amelia, and we can both see she is not thriving.'

Ruby stormed out of the room then remembered she was not at home so stopped. She inhaled and headed to the living room where Lucien was sitting.

'Where's Jean?' She demanded.

'Oh, she's taken Amelia out into the garden.' Lucien smiled, 'come and sit down you must be gasping for a cuppa.' He was all geniality and warmth as he poured the refreshment.

'How are you?' He asked, a perfectly reasonable question.

'Fine.' She grumbled back.

'Good,' He mused, 'a long trip. I'll give you a check up.' He smiled his most disarming smile, 'just to make sure there are no ill effects, you know. I believe it was a difficult birth.'

'Bloody awful.' She muttered.

'Well, in that case...' Lucien smiled again. 'Can't be too careful.'

'Er...yes.' She was completely taken in by his sweet and gentle persona, 'thank you.'

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Out in the garden Jean had finished giving Amelia the vital fluids and was taking her round showing her the flowers in the beds and the blossom on the tree.

'She's asleep mum.' A voice over her shoulder, 'how did you do it?'

'Oh, hello Christopher.' She smiled, 'just gave her what she needed.'

'Right.' He sat down on the bench, 'and that would be?'

'Milk,' Jean sat next to him, 'and an extra drink of water.'

'Oh.'

Jean sighed, 'Really, Christopher, even you must have been able to see she was hungry.'

'Ruby is feeding herself.' He told her.

'She's not giving enough,' Jean was cross and let him know it, 'her doctor should have told her to give formula or at least suggest ways she could produce more. For heaven's sake, Christopher, it doesn't take an idiot to see she has nothing to give!'

Christopher looked at her, he knew she was right, he had noticed Amelia did not seem to be growing.

'Is she concerned about getting her figure back?' Jean looked at him, rather glad they had come to her instead of her going to them. At least here she could have Lucien to back her up.

'She always moaned about how she didn't like having a big belly.' He admitted.

Jean just rolled her eyes.

'We'd best go in.' He held his hand out to her.

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Lucien and Ruby were nowhere in sight, Jean assumed he'd managed to persuade her to have a check up and they were in the surgery. She put Amelia in the pram and she and Christopher cleared up the tea things.

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'So you see, my dear.' Lucien was saying as he and Ruby came out of the surgery, 'bottle feeding is perfectly fine, if you can't quite manage to feed your baby yourself.'

'Thank you, Dr Blake,' Ruby answered, 'it's just my midwife was so insistent that I should feed her myself.'

Jean smiled to herself as she busied about at the stove. She wondered how Lucien had persuaded Ruby to give up and do the best for her baby.

'Ah, Jean.' He went up to her, 'how did Amelia take to a bottle?'

'Very well, Lucien,' Jean smiled, 'the bottle of half strength milk and half a bottle of water. She's sleeping in her pram.'

'Marvellous,' he grinned, fighting the urge to kiss her, and winning, just, 'well, Ruby has agreed to put her on the bottle.'

'The doctor says I don't have enough to feed her myself, ' Ruby smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes, 'and that my midwife may have been a bit too strict.'

Jean looked at her, she could see Lucien had a point. Ruby was almost flat-chested, yet she remembered her having curves when she married Christopher.

'I'll make some bottles up and they can go in the fridge.' Jean put the casserole back in the oven, 'they don't take long to warm up. Full strength, Lucien?'

'Half I think, until tomorrow.' Lucien stood with his hands in his pockets. 'Then I think she should be alright with full strength and perhaps some cooled water if she's still thirsty.'

'Right.' Jean wondered where he had got the knowledge to determine the strength of baby milk, even though he was a doctor, this advice was more that of an experienced father.

He could see her thinking about this, 'Li was a thirsty baby. If she'd had every bottle at full strength, she'd have been a little roly poly.' He laughed.

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So will Ruby settle down and be a pleasant addition to the household or will she revert to type when Christopher goes to Melbourne?