Bill Hobart drove up in the police car, having answered Jean's call. He found Dr. Blake kneeling beside the body, staring.
"Doc?" Bill greeted tentatively.
Lucien stood up and explained to Bill what he knew. The young woman had been alive upon arriving on the property, because her cry and stumble to the ground had awoken them. Lucien had also discovered that she had been stabbed in the stomach and most likely died of blood loss.
Bill asked to go inside and use the phone to call the ambos to take the body to the morgue. There wasn't anything else Dr. Blake could do here.
Jean came outside, her dressing gown wrapped tightly around her body, hiding the fact that she hadn't had a chance to put anything else on. She put her hand on Lucien's back and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "There's nothing you can do for her now. Go get dressed and you can go to the morgue."
Lucien followed her gentle tug to go inside the house. They walked past the bouquets of flowers leftover from their wedding party. "Jean, it's our wedding night!" he remembered.
"I know, but you have work to do," she replied with a gentle, sad smile.
Before Lucien could respond, Bill got off the phone with a heavy sigh. "Her name is Wang Na. Her brother, Wei, dropped her off here to see the doctor and went into the station to explain. Ned's with him now. Apparently there was an accident at the boarding house and she was injured. We'll check his story with the other boarders tomorrow, and Dr. Harvey will confirm the cause of death. Sorry to disturb you for nothing."
"Not for nothing, Bill, a woman came to me for help and I was too…" Lucien trailed off, knowing he was getting angry and upset for a reason he couldn't quite articulate.
Jean watched him with a concerned frown. "Lucien," she murmured in warning.
Bill could see this was a domestic issue he wanted no part of. "I'll just wait outside for the ambos. Goodnight Doc, Mrs. Blake," he said, awkwardly escaping the house.
"You get back to bed, Jean. I'll be in my study for a while."
Jean regarded him carefully. Lucien's tone was cold and unfeeling. That somehow scared her more than anything else. "Can I do anything? I could put on the kettle," she offered.
"No, I'll be up soon," he replied dismissively, walking past her and shutting himself in his study without another word.
Reluctantly, Jean went up to their bedroom, alone. There wasn't much else she could do. The alarm clock read just after four in the morning. Jean stood in the dark of the room, peeking through the curtains to watch the ambos remove that poor dead woman from their front drive. Jean had seen her fair share of bodies in her years living and working with Lucien, but it was different to have death so close to their doorstep. Jean's heart ached for Wang Na. Even if her death was an accident and not murder, it was still a tragedy for a young life to be cut short.
She got back in bed, waiting for her husband. Jean briefly realized that this was the first of what would likely be many, many nights of waiting up in bed for him. He tended to lose track of time and be fixated on whatever he happened to be working on. She had reminded him countless times to get some sleep. Now, thankfully, she could motivate him a bit better, since he would be joining her in bed from now on.
Jean smiled slightly at the thought and snuggled under the covers. The pillow he'd been sleeping on earlier smelled like him. She breathed his scent deep into her heart and soul.
Sun eventually began to come through the window. Jean was sure she must have dozed off at some point, but Lucien still wasn't in bed. Thoroughly worried and incredibly curious, Jean got up to check on him.
The phone rang just as she crossed the front hallway. "Dr. Blake's surgery," she answered, as was customary.
In the study, Lucien heard the phone ring once, followed by Jean's voice muffled behind the closed door. He frowned. She shouldn't be awake yet. Nor should anyone be calling at this hour, except probably the police. If it was, Jean would come and tell him. Until she did, he returned to his task, rereading the pages in front of him.
A quiet knock came on the door. "Yes?" he called out.
Jean entered slowly. "Lucien, that was Superintendent Carlyle. He wanted to make sure you know that Wang Na's death has been proved accidental. Something with sewing scissors. There's no arrest and nothing for you to concern yourself. And Frank wished us a nice honeymoon," she added with a small smile.
Lucien nodded. "Thank you for letting me know."
"Can I ask what you've been doing down here? It's been quite lonely up in our bed all by myself," she noted with a slight smirk.
Lucien knew he had to tell her. Jean was his wife now. He had no secrets from her. And as much as he despised himself for his weakness, he knew she would not fault him for it. "Jean, when I saw that girl's face, I could have sworn for a moment that it was Li."
Jean's eyes went wide. She sat down in the chair in front of his desk, leaning forward with interest.
He continued, "Of course it wasn't. But she's about Li's age. And you don't see many Chinese faces in Ballarat. It felt as though my subconscious was playing a rather nasty trick on me."
"How so?" she asked with a frown.
"I've been thinking about Li quite a bit lately. More so than usual. Worrying about her, actually."
"Is she alright? Did you receive some news?" Jean asked immediately.
Lucien smiled in spite of himself. Leave it to Jean to be so quick to lend her care and concern. "No, no, she's fine, as far as I know," he assured her. "But in planning our little wedding, I suppose I've just been thinking about marriage and family. Someone told me, shortly after Li was born, an old line from Euripides, I think it was. 'To a father growing old, nothing is dearer than a daughter.' And I know I am growing much older every day. It's catching up with me more than it used to. My daughter is so very far away, both in distance and in emotion. We've become rather good pen pals, but it isn't the same. I miss being her father."
"Do you want to go back to China to see her? You certainly could, whenever you want. You should be with her as much as you can." Jean tried her best to say what she was supposed to in this situation. She couldn't bear to beg him to stay with her, to confess that the month he spent in China two years before had broken her heart into a million pieces. And that was before she'd really fallen in love with him and known what it was to have his love in her life. But as a parent with an absent child, Jean knew better than most the difficulties Lucien was facing.
"No," Lucien replied. "I don't think I'll be going back to China anytime soon. I've been sitting here for hours writing her a letter. I was wondering if I could read it to you, if you'd tell me what you think, if it makes sense. I've gone through quite a few drafts," he admitted.
She nodded. "Of course." Jean craned her neck to see the pages strewn all over his desk. They were scribbled with Chinese writing that she didn't have any hope of reading herself.
Lucien found the first page and began to read. "My dear daughter, I hope this letter finds you and your family well. I am writing to share some important news with you. I was unsure how to tell you before it happened, but I have gotten married."
"You didn't tell her we were engaged!?" Jean asked in surprise.
"I should have, I know," he replied. Without giving a further answer, Lucien continued to read, "I have told you many times about Jean Beazley, who takes such good care of me and my house. Jean has been so much more than a housekeeper, even from the day I first met her. She is kind, she is brilliant, she is beautiful, and she has a heart stronger and warmer than any I have ever known. I tell you this, Li, in an effort to assure you that I have not forgotten your mother, and my love for Jean does not replace the love I had for your mother or especially for you."
"Oh Lucien," Jean breathed, feeling tears prick her eyes.
He didn't stop reading the letter. "Our family in Singapore is the past. You tried to explain it to me when I met you in Shanghai, but only now do I finally understand. The past must remain there. Our lives move on, and we cannot dwell on things we cannot reclaim. Your mother is dead. You have a beautiful life of your own. And while I will always hold the memories of our life in my heart, I must live a new life here in Ballarat. Jean has given me that new life. She has given me a home and a purpose and a love I still do not think I am worthy of." Lucien paused, looking up at Jean. They shared a smile, and he finished reading the last paragraph. "I will send you a photograph from our wedding when we return from our honeymoon. I wish you could have been here to share in our joy. And I hope one day you can meet Jean. She asks after you often, knowing that we correspond with our letters. I think you would like each other very much. But until I hear from you again, I wish you all the best, sweet Li. As always, you remain dear to my heart. With love, your father."
Jean sniffed back her tears, not wanting to get too emotional while Lucien was clearly overcome by his own feelings. The depth of this man she was so blessed to call her husband was constantly astounding. He had so much love to give. She was lucky enough to receive so much of it. But he was missing his daughter, to whom he could not give nearly as much of his love as he wanted.
If things had been different, Jean had no doubt that he would have been the most wonderful father to Li and any other child he had. Her mind briefly wondered if she could give him a child, to give them a family of their very own. It was unlikely, of course, at their age. She didn't dare hope for such a miracle. Even so, imagining Lucien holding a baby in his arms filled Jean's heart with such desperate longing. She shook her head, chasing that idea out of her mind.
"Well? Do you think I rambled on a bit too much? I should do another draft, do you think? I think you can see it's incredibly important I get this right," Lucien said nervously.
"No, I think it's perfect. Honestly, I wouldn't change a thing."
"You think?" he asked, unconvinced.
Jean stood up and crossed to the other side of the desk. She perched on his lap and nuzzled into his neck. Lucien wrapped his arms around her and could feel that she still didn't have anything on under her dressing gown. He hummed happily, pressing light kisses on the exposed column of her neck and sliver of her bare chest. She sighed in appreciation. "Lucien, you have been the best father you could have been under the circumstances. Better, even. I mean what I said earlier, if you ever want to go back to China, or send for Li to come here, I hope you will. I would love to meet her someday. You are her father, and I don't see how she could ever doubt your love for her. I appreciate the things you wrote in that letter about me. I see now why you were worried about telling her. And I hope she doesn't think I'm a replacement for her mother in any way. Just as I hope my boys know you aren't a replacement for Christopher. He will always hold a place in my heart just as Mei Lin holds a place in yours. But as you said, that was the past. And our lives are here and now. I thank God every day that we found each other and our love and we've been able to live this life together."
"Thank you, Jean," he whispered, holding her tight and continuing to kiss her reverently.
"I think we should go back to bed and get a few hours' sleep, if we can. Our train isn't until the afternoon," she said.
He nodded. "I quite agree. We've had enough interruption to our wedding night."
"I don't think it's much of a night anymore, but I'd certainly like to wake up in my husband's arms for something more pleasant this time," she noted. Jean removed herself from his lap so he could stand.
They went back upstairs hand in hand. The letter for Li would go into the postbox on their way to the train station. But for now, the past was buried, and the future was awaiting them.