Love in Egypt - a Jean Brodie fanfic

[dianahawthorne]

Love in Egypt
Rating: M
Summary: Jean Brodie travels to Egypt on holiday, finding much more than she expects...


Chapter One: The Teacher and the Dragoman

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie". Not making money from this work, either.

A/N: Inspired by an episode in the book, but following the movie-verse.
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Jean Brodie sat in the lounge of Mena House in Cairo, looking out the large windows which showed the Pyramids, sipping a glass of hibiscus juice as she waited to meet the dragoman who would escort her through Egypt. She had arrived in Cairo earlier that day, and she would spend the next month in company of the dragoman she was waiting for. As the sun dropped behind the Great Pyramid, a bouquet of gardenias was presented to her. She buried her nose in the fragrant blossoms. Looking up, she met the blue eyes of her guide.

He was surprisingly tall and well-built, his traditional flowing white robes showing his figure to his great advantage. He also wore the red-and-white checked headdress and camel-hide sandals typical of Egyptian men. His twinkling blue eyes were set in a tanned, weather-worn face, and he had a strong nose and easily smiling mouth.

“Salaam aleikum, Miss Brodie,” her guide said, taking her proffered hand in his and placing a gentle kiss on its back. She looked up into his equally startled eyes when they felt a spark shoot through their joined hands. Upon releasing her hand, he bowed slightly to her.

“I am James Azhar,” he told her, pulling out a chair and seating himself across from her. His English was excellent; it had a slightly British flavour to it in the clipped syllables and slight accent.

As soon as he sat down, a waiter rushed over with a tea set, pouring James a steaming cup of tea, waiting patiently as he added sugar and cream, then whisking away when he was sure that James was satisfied.

“Tea, Miss Brodie?” James asked her politely, teapot hovering over the empty cup.

“Yes, please,” she replied, “But please call me Jean. Referring to me as ‘Miss Brodie’ is not necessary.” He nodded, adding two lumps of sugar into her cup before handing it across the table to her. She stared at him for a moment, more than slightly disconcerted that he knew how she took her tea.

“You seem to be someone who likes the world with a bit of sweetener,” he told her cryptically. She nodded, barely able to remain composed. There was something about this man that made her believe that his unusual blue eyes could see into her soul. She had been in his presence a mere half hour, but already she was strongly attracted to him – attracted to him in an intellectual sense, because of the mysteries he presented; and in a romantic sense as well.

She was startled out of her thought when James cleared his throat.

“Tomorrow we will go see the Pyramids at Giza,” he said, indicating their position behind them with a careless wave of his hand. “We will spend the morning there and at the Sphinx, returning to the hotel for lunch and a rest. It will take you some time to get used to the heat, so we will remain in the hotel for the evening. We will be riding to the Pyramids tomorrow, so please be sure to dress appropriately. I will meet you here for breakfast at 6:30 tomorrow morning.”

Jean nodded, and took his hand so that she could rise from her seat gracefully. Once more a spark shot through their joined hands, causing them to pause.

“Have you seen the gardens yet, Jean?” he asked her out of the blue. She shook her head. “Permit me to show them to you, then, before you retire for the night.” She nodded, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow as he led her out towards the gardens.

They made an odd pair – a tall man in traditional Arab robes escorting a slender woman wearing a Western-style dress through the gardens. Despite their anomalous appearance, their body language indicated that they were lovers – or would be soon, at any rate.

As he escorted her back to her rooms, they walked in silence, stealing glances at each other. He left her at her door with what should have been a chaste kiss on the hand, but the intimacy of the gesture was made evident as his lips wandered to the pulse point on the inside of her wrist, hovering there as he felt the wild beat of her heart against his lips. One final, lingering kiss to the back of her hand and he was gone, leaving a flustered Jean to enter her rooms alone.


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James Azhar’s father was an Egyptian noble and the Prime Minister of Egypt; his mother was descended from Mary, Queen of Scots. They had met in London, married six months later, and were blessed with seven sons, of whom James was the youngest. As the seventh son with very little expectation or responsibility, he joined the Army, where he served in the Great War.

James Azhar served in the same battalion with Hugh Carruthers – in fact, they were bunkmates and best friends. James, however, had always secretly envied Hugh, for he had found the woman with whom he wished to spend the rest of his life.

Jean Brodie was a beautiful girl from Edinburgh who planned to become a teacher. She and Hugh were in love – it was obvious from the way she looked at him in a picture taken of them, which Hugh carried in his jacket pocket; obvious from the way Hugh spoke of her; obvious from the frequency and the contents of the letters that she sent him – not that Hugh allowed James to read them. But when he died in the battle of Flanders Field, a week before Armistice was declared, James took the letters and photographs sent by Jean and read them all. He had fallen in love with her from reading the love letters she had written to his best friend.

Dear Hugh,

I miss you so much, my darling. Even though I am finally in the process of getting my teaching degree, I’d give it all up in a moment for you to return to my arms...



My darling Hugh,

This past week-end made me realise just how much I need you. Waking up in your arms was utter bliss, and knowing that after the war I will be Mrs. Hugh Carruthers fills my heart with joy during these lonely nights without you...

Dearest Hugh,

Please keep safe, my love. I don’t want you to go to Flanders... I am afraid for you. Hurry home soon, my dearest one – I am waiting for you and praying fervently for your safety and your quick return.

All my love,
Your Jean

After the war, James found that he longed to return to Egypt, where he had spent some of the happiest times of his life. He had always been an avid scholar of ancient Egyptian history, and spoke both English and Arabic fluently, so becoming a dragoman seemed to be the most obvious option. And when the Ministry of Tourism contacted him about being a guide for a Jean Brodie, a schoolteacher from Edinburgh, it felt as though his entire life had finally fallen into place.

Now that he had finally met the woman for whom he had pined for almost two decades, he had fallen even deeper in love with her than he had been before. The faded black-and-white photographs that had belonged to Hugh captured only the smallest fraction of her presence, her smile. They had not revealed the sunny blue of her eyes, or the golden colour of her hair.

And no amount of letters or photographs could have prepared him for her unique fragrance, the soft texture of her skin, the beat of her pulse against his lips when he kissed the inside of her wrist.

She was finally here with him – a flesh-and-blood woman whose presence outshone his fantasies from the past two decades. And he had one month to spend with her – he would cherish every moment.


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The next morning, Jean sat in the lounge of Mena House, dressed in a white sleeveless shirt and slim jodhpurs. The sun was reflecting off the mirrored ceiling, casting a golden halo of light around her. When James entered the lobby, he stopped dead as he saw her lit up like an angel. 

Before she noticed his odd behaviour, he pulled himself out of his trance and approached her, taking the empty chair next to her.

“Good morning, Jean,” he said, composing himself as she smiled at him.

“Good morning, James,” she replied.

This morning he was once more dressed in flowing white robes and his headdress, though he wore boots instead of the sandals he chose last night.

Last night after their walk around the garden, Jean went over everything that had happened between them during their first meeting. She had a surprisingly strong attraction to him already, and it was clear that he was equally attracted to her. She was tired of not being able to have Teddy; tired of making do with Gordon; tired of living alone; and here, in front of her, was a man who wanted her, who did not have any preconceptions of her. She had the chance to be happy on this trip, if only for a month.

Soon enough, breakfast was finished and they crossed the pathway to the Mena House stables. A stable hand brought over two Arabian horses as soon as they entered the stables, and they led them out to the courtyard. James helped Jean into the saddle, then swung himself up effortlessly. He clucked to the horses, and led them out onto Pyramid Road.

It was a ride of ten minutes, and when they arrived at the base of the Great Pyramid, Jean looked up in awe.

“Would you like to see the inside?” James asked her.

“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed. He smiled at her obvious enthusiasm, and led her and the horses over to the beginning of the queue. James gestured to a young boy, and he ran over. James and the boy exchanged a few rapid words in Arabic, and the boy took the coins and the reins of the horses, leading them over to a water trough. James and Jean then joined the queue to enter the Great Pyramid.

Falling in line behind the people ascending the wooden plank ways to the burial chamber, they ducked to avoid hitting their heads on the low stone ceilings. When they finally reached the burial chamber, Jean looked around the small room, examining the granite sarcophagus that had once held the builder of this pyramid.

Once more at the entrance to the Pyramid, James placed a hand lightly on Jean’s arm, stopping her from exiting the Pyramid as he conferred with a guard. James showed the guard a ring, and the guard bowed low, taking a bundle of keys from his belt and opening a locked gate that blocked a downward passage.

“Would you like to see the false burial chamber?” he asked Jean. She nodded excitedly, and he took a torch from his pocket and turned it on.

“Keep your hands on my shoulders,” he told her as they descended the steep passageway.

“What did you show to that guard?” Jean asked him as they neared the heart of the Pyramid.

“My signet ring,” he replied. “Though my mother is Scots, my father is the Prime Minister of Egypt. As the youngest of seven sons, I am able to do what I please.”

“Oh,” she replied, not able to say anything more as they reached the false burial chamber.

“We are in the centre of the Pyramid, Jean,” he told her.

“This is incredible,” she breathed as she walked the small room. She turned back to him and impulsively took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

He responded immediately, dropping the torch on the floor, where it spun and pointed its beam against a wall. She brought her hands up to his headdress and pulled it off, throwing it on the ground behind them. He lowered her to the floor and knelt at her feet, pulling off her boots and kicking off his own. Soon their clothes were thrown about the room and she was sitting on his lap, her lips meeting his, his large cock pressed against her.

And then he was inside her, unable to slow down the speed of his thrusts as almost twenty years of desire broke through. She didn’t seem to mind his lack of control, urging him on with every call of his name.

She came first, as he used the remnants of his restraint to keep himself from climaxing first. But he couldn’t hold back any longer when she cried out his name in her ecstasy.


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A half-hour later, they emerged from the Pyramids and re-mounted their horses. He looked at his watch.

“It’s nine thirty. Are you ready to see the Sphinx?” he asked her.

“Yes, I am,” she replied. He smiled at her, provoking a slight blush to rise in her face, before they started off towards the Sphinx.

They walked through the temple at the base of the Sphinx before they reached the Sphinx itself, and James pointed out the niches where statues once stood.

“We’ll see the statues in the Egyptian Museum,” James told her.

They walked up and incline and were suddenly at the paws of the Sphinx. Jean’s jaw dropped.

“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, taking in the remarkable sight of the Sphinx stretched out in front of the Pyramids.

“Beautiful,” James echoed, looking not at the Sphinx, but at the woman standing next to him.

They took their time returning to Mena House, letting their horses walk at a leisurely pace, and finally reaching the hotel at twelve twenty in the afternoon.

“Where would you like to go for lunch?” James asked her.

“Perhaps we could order room service,” Jean suggested. Her words shot straight to his cock, and she smiled devilishly as she saw the effect of her suggestion. She took the arm he offered her and they walked up the stairs, not stopping at the second floor, as Jean expected, as her rooms were located there, but they took a private elevator from the third to the fifth floor.

The elevator deposited them in an opulent corridor, and James took a key from his pocket to unlock the door. Holding it open, he allowed Jean to step into his rooms.

After the lavishness of the corridor, Jean was pleasantly surprised by the lack of over-decoration in James’s rooms. The parlour had deep red walls and a marble floor, which was strewn about with Persian carpets. Simple carved wooden furniture inlaid with mother-of-pearl designs accented the room.

“Would you like to see the rest?” James asked Jean.

“I would,” she said, stepping closer to him and running her hands down his chest. “But,” she continued, “I think that we should eat first, so that we do not have hunger as a distraction.”

“That sounds like an eminently practical idea,” he said, placing his hands on her slim waist. He held her close to him for a moment before stepping back and walking to a sofa, gesturing for her to sit down. He picked up a menu from the coffee table and handed it to her, gesturing towards the telephone.

“Order whatever you would like,” he said, walking deeper into his suite. “I won’t be but a moment.” He disappeared from her view and she turned to the menu. Picking up the telephone, she ordered pita bread, hummus, grilled pigeon, and a bottle of champagne. Just as she finished placing the order, James re-appeared in the parlour, now dressed as a European. For the first time, she could see the dark brown colour of his hair, the shape of his body – though they had already made love, there had been very little light, and so his appearance was still somewhat of a mystery to her. He joined her on the sofa and wrapped an arm around her.

“Why do you dress as an Egyptian?” she asked him.

“It gives me credibility as a dragoman,” he replied. “It also feels much cooler outside when wearing robes, though I prefer trousers.”

She smiled against his chest as they sat curled up together, the call to prayer breaking their comfortable silence.

“Are you Muslim?” she asked him curiously.

“No, I am Christian,” he replied, “Though I most likely would have been Muslim like my father had I been raised in Egypt. But it is the same God for Christians and Muslims, after all, so it doesn’t really matter how you worship Him.”

A knock sounded at the door, and James walked across the room to allow the waiter entry. As soon as the waiter left, James popped the cork from the bottle of champagne and poured them both a glass.

“To us,” Jean declared, raising her champagne flute in a toast.

“To us,” James echoed, and clinked his flute against hers.

As Jean sipped her champagne, James uncovered their lunch, raising his eyebrows when he saw the grilled pigeon.

“Is the main course indicative of your desire?” James asked her. She tilted her head to the side, confused. He laughed.

“Pigeon is an aphrodisiac,” he explained. She blushed slightly.

“If I said that it was, would you approve?” she asked, picking up a wing and biting into it. His eyes darkened at her words, and he placed a hand on her upper thigh.

“Yes, I would approve,” he said. Their meal was soon gone and they stood up from the sofa.

“Is there someplace where I could freshen up?” Jean asked. He nodded and led her into a large bathroom.

“I’ll be through here,” he said, opening a door that led to his bedroom.

“I’ll join you in a moment,” she said, closing the door behind him. She quickly washed her hands before stripping off her clothes and laying them on the counter. Taking the cotton dressing gown that hung on the back of the door, she slipped into it and tied the sash loosely around her narrow waist. She took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping into the bedroom, where James was waiting for her.

He had removed his shoes and belt and lay stretched out on the bed as he waited for her. When she entered, he rose to meet her, his hands untying the sash of his dressing gown (which looked, in his opinion, much better on Jean than on him), as her nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt and trousers. Once more their clothes were strewn about the room, though during this encounter, James took his time learning her body. He kissed every inch of her lissom form, fondled and caressed her breasts, memorised her body. She climaxed twice before he finally guided himself into her.

He slid slowly into her wet heat, moaning as she wrapped her legs above his hips and pulled him deeper inside of her. He withdrew completely and then entered her again several times before they both exploded with fire.

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Two: Lovers


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“Stay with me tonight,” he said as they lay sated in his large bed. She nodded against his chest.

“I will need to get some clothes from my rooms for tomorrow, though,” she told him.

“Why don’t you move your things in here?” he offered. “There’s another bedroom, if you’d like to use that.”

“All right,” she agreed. He kissed the top of her head before rolling over and picking up the telephone. He said a few words in Arabic and hung up the phone, padding over to the bedroom doors and closing them.

“They’ve sent someone to pack up your things – they’ll unpack them in the other bedroom. That way,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes feasting on her nude form, “you don’t have to leave the bed.”

She smiled seductively at him. “I do hope that you’re planning on joining me,” she purred. “The bed is far too cold without you.” He began to rise and harden at her words, and she smiled. “I’m glad that you rise to the occasion,” she told him as he pressed his cock along the inside of her thigh.

“Oh, yes,” he said, his voice deep as he pressed into her once more. “God, so wonderful!” he moaned.

“Mmm, yes...”

He came as she purred her satisfaction, and his release lit the fuse for her own climax.


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They had a romantic dinner that night downstairs, and James dressed in European clothes so not to draw attention to the odd couple they made when he wore his robes.

“It is lovely to be able to enjoy being in love,” Jean said to James, then realised what she had said. Was she in love with him? A little bit. But it was obvious that he was in love with her – his entire face lit up at her words.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, and she nodded. He took her hands in his and kissed them, beaming at her.

“Good, because I am in love with you too.”

She returned his smile, and when they left dinner some time later, their hands were entwined.


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The next day, James again wore European-style clothing. “It doesn’t matter what I wear at the museum,” he told her, “And I want to be able to act normally, and not restrained around you.”

They took a taxicab to the Museum, and spent the better part of the day there, looking at the amazing treasures there. When they returned to the hotel, they ordered room service for dinner and planned their last day in Cairo.

“We’ll do the Citadel, al-Azhar Mosque, and a few churches tomorrow,” James said as they lay in bed. “Then, tomorrow evening, we can go to the market.”

“All right,” she agreed, nuzzling his neck. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he replied. He waited until she was completely asleep to measure her finger for her ring size.

“You’ll have to cover yourself up today,” he told her, producing a long cotton dress and hijaab. She dutifully put them on, though she quickly felt overheated. Things were only made worse on the crowded bus ride to the Citadel, and the vast mosque made her feel even more light-headed.

From the Citadel, they took another bus, this one to al-Azhar Mosque. It was much cooler inside of the mosque, and Jean felt a bit better, though she did not appreciate getting back onto the bus.

“You can remove your hijaab now, Jean,” James told her, and she took it off quickly.

“Thank goodness,” she exclaimed, smoothing down her sweat-dampened hair. They got off the bus and walked down an alley lined with vendors to the Church of St. Barbara’s. He led her down a side hallway and down a flight of stairs into a crypt.

“This was one of the places where Mary, Joseph, and Jesus stayed when they fled King Herod,” James told her.

“That’s amazing,” Jean said, looking around.

Next was the Hanging Church, only a short walk away. The Church literally hung over the street, and was quite an awe-inspiring structure.

They took a taxicab back to the hotel, and they dined together before retiring for a few hours. At five o’clock in the afternoon, they had tea brought up to them, and left for the market shortly after that.


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Jean was bowled over by the sights, smells, and sounds present in the Cairo market. Carved wooden animals, spices, beads, carpets, water pipes, clothing, fruit – everything could be bought here.

They began at a stall selling jewellery. After rummaging through the baskets of goods, Jean found a lovely string of lapis lazuli.

“For you, special price,” the stall’s proprietor said. “Twenty Egyptian pounds.”

James jumped in and began bargaining fiercely in Arabic. He got the price down to three Egyptian pounds, which she gladly handed over, beaming as James fastened the necklace round her neck.

She restrained herself in her purchases, buying only a mother-of-pearl jewellery box and a small carved wooden camel, as James had told her that the market in Aswan was far superior. Satisfied with her choices, she did not notice James’s secretive purchase.

They returned to the hotel, and James joined Jean in a hot, soothing bath. He washed her body lovingly, and she surrendered herself fully to his ministrations. She was so tired from their day that she fell asleep in the bathtub, and James dried her off and tucked her into bed.

He was not that tired, though they had had a long day. He was actually quite excited, which was a result of his furtive buy this afternoon. Taking the small box out of the pocket of his robe, he opened it and looked down at the ring he bought for Jean.

It was a star sapphire set in gold, and it was perfect for Jean. He only hoped that she would accept it. Yawning, he tucked the ring carefully in his luggage and set the alarm clock for six o’clock in the morning, so they would not miss the train to Aswan. Getting into bed, he smiled as Jean turned towards him in her sleep, snuggling into his embrace.


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“Do you, Jean Margaret Brodie, take James Azhar to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the minister asked.

“I do,” she replied calmly.

“Do you, James Azhar, take Jean Margaret Brodie to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“You may kiss the bride!”

As their lips met, Jean heard someone call her name.

“Jean! Jean! Jean!” She woke up.

“Jean, it’s time to get up,” James said as she blearily opened her eyes. She blinked several times and yawned, before she realised where she was.

“Good morning James,” she said, giving him a light kiss on the mouth.

“Good morning, habibti,” he replied, returning her kiss.

“What does ‘habibti’ mean?” she asked as they got dressed. James was wearing European clothes today. “Easier for travelling by train,” he had explained earlier.

“‘Habibti’ means ‘darling’”, he told her. She smiled, stepping closer to kiss him. “I like it.”

They packed up a few final things and the bellhop came to collect their luggage to send it down to the train.

They had breakfast at the hotel, and Jean settled her bill before they took a carriage ride to the train station. James wrapped his arm around Jean, and they watched the scenery go by as they bid Cairo farewell.

[Junora]

Oh this is sooo good. I really love it.

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Three: A Surprising Decision


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When they arrived at the train station, a steward unloaded their carriage and showed them to their train compartment. They had a surprisingly large sleeping compartment, with a comfortable, though slightly narrow bed. The bathroom had a claw-footed bathtub, which was equipped with a curved edge to keep the bathwater from sloshing out as the train went round a bed. There was also a soft sofa at the foot of the bed.

The train started off, and Jean and James retired to the train’s first-class lounge to meet their fellow travellers. As soon as they entered, Jean drew all the unattached men, and some of the men with companions, to her like moths to a flame. Jean ignored them, smiling up at James. He beamed back at her and offered her an arm, which she took.

They didn’t stay for long, as men kept approaching her and vying for her attentions. Luckily, it was soon time for lunch.

Jean and James were seated at a table for four, and were joined by an elderly American couple, Henry and Elizabeth van Horn. They were from New York.

Unfortunately, Henry was only interested in ogling Jean, and Elizabeth glared at her husband throughout the entire meal. It was with a great deal of relief that Jean and James returned to their compartment after lunch. As soon as James closed the door behind them, he grabbed her in a passionate kiss.

“Is it always like that?” James asked when they broke apart.

“Quite often it is worse,” Jean told him. “They see a bare ring finger and assume that I will be interested in their advances.”

“Care to remedy that problem?” he asked as he looked into her eyes and knelt at her feet, extracting a black velvet box from his trouser pocket. Her breath caught in her throat as he opened the box, revealing the star sapphire he bought for her in the Cairo market.

“Jean Brodie, will you marry me?” he asked her.

Her knees gave out, and she sank onto the sofa.

“There have only been three men I’ve wanted to marry: one died, one is married to another, and the third is you. I love you, James, but do you love me enough to give up being a dragoman and move to Edinburgh with me? Because I am a teacher: first, last, and always; and I won’t give that up. I would have, at one time, before my Hugh died, but I hadn’t begun teaching yet – I was just in training. I don’t think that I’d give it up now even to get Hugh back. So, if you still want to marry me despite all of my demands, I will marry you.”

James slipped the ring onto her finger – a perfect fit.

“I love you, Jean, and I want to marry you. I don’t care if you want to Timbuktu – I want to be with you.”

“I love you, too, James,” she replied.


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They stayed in their compartment for the rest of their journey, only emerging for meals, spending the rest of their time making plans for their future.

“Where do you want to be married?” James asked her an hour before they arrived in Aswan.

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “But shouldn’t your parents and brothers meet me first?”

James smiled at her. “I sent them a telegram yesterday, and they will meet us at our hotel in two hours.”

“Where are we staying in Aswan?” she asked.

“The Cataract Hotel,” he replied. “They will meet us there for lunch.”

Jean nodded and began going through her luggage.

“Will this be all right?” she asked James, holding up a light green cotton dress.

“Yes, it’s perfect,” he responded, and she untied her robe, slipping into the dress.

“Will you zip me up, please?” she asked, and he obliged, placing a kiss on her temple.


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“I hope your family likes me,” Jean said as they entered the restaurant where they were to meet James’s family.

“They will,” was all James had time to say as they arrived at his family’s table.

“Hello, darling,” James’s mother exclaimed warmly as he embraced her. She was a chic blonde, very tall and slender. James’s father, on the other hand, was shorter and muscular, with dark hair and eyes. All six of James’s brothers were there, and they each, more or less, resembled their parents.

“Now, darling, introduce us to your fiancée,” his mother told James.

“Oh, right. Pardon my rudeness. Everyone, this is Jean Brodie, my fiancée. Jean, this is my mother Judith, my father Salah, and my brothers Alexander, Julius, George, Marcus, William, and Louis.”

Jean was a little bit overwhelmed at all of the new names she must learn, and Judith saw that.

“Now Jean, tell me about yourself...”


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James’s father and brothers took him aside.

“It seems as though you’ve made a good choice,” Salah told his youngest son.

“I’m glad that you think so,” James said. “We’re going to live in Edinburgh.”

“Why?” his oldest brother asked him.

“Because Jean teaches at a school there – teaching is her passion. I won’t make her give it up.”

“Perhaps when you two are ready for children, you can move back to Egypt,” his father said, cutting off all potential argument about James living in Edinburgh.

“Of course,” James agreed.


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Jean and Judith had been getting to know each other when she suddenly asked Jean where and when they planned on getting married.

“I’m not sure,” Jean admitted. “I don’t want a wedding with all sorts of frills, but I do want you all present.”

“Well, Salah is leaving in two days for a two-month long diplomacy trip to Austria,” Judith told Jean.

“And two months from now, we’ll be in Edinburgh and school will be in session,” Jean said. “It seems as though we have three options: get married tonight or tomorrow, get married without everyone here, or get married next summer.”

“What do you want to do, Jean?” Judith asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I really don’t.”

Just then, James rejoined his mother and fiancée.

“Mother, may I steal Jean away for a moment, please?” he asked.

“Of course, dear,” she replied. “Why don’t you two stay here – I’ll rejoin the rest of the family.”

Judith left the room and closed the door behind her.

“How are you holding up, darling?” James asked.

“I’m fine, James,” she told him, before impulsively saying, “Let’s get married tonight.”

“All right,” he said, smiling easily, taking it all in stride. “My father can perform the ceremony – the only things we need are rings.”

“No, we don’t,” Jean said, pulling out a necklace on which hung two gold bands, a man’s and a woman’s. “These were my parents’ wedding rings – they died of influenza when I was eighteen.”

“I’m sorry,” James said.

“It’s all right,” Jean replied. “Now,” she said briskly, “What time tonight should we be married?”


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Two hours later, in the ballroom of the Cataract Hotel, Jean Margaret Brodie and James Lawrence Azhar were married by Salah Mohammed Azhar, James’s father. Judith Azhar, James’s mother, and James’s six brothers attended the ceremony.

It was a civil union. Jean wore her silk dress with the red poppies, and James wore a pair of navy trousers and a white shirt.


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This announcement ran in the Egyptian Times the following day:

James Azhar, the youngest son of Prime Minister Salah Azhar, was married yesterday to a Miss Jean Brodie of Edinburgh, Scotland.

[Junora]

Please tell me there is another chapter of any sorts, epilog or what ever.
This is so good.

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

I have the next two chapters written out; I just need to type them up. Glad that you're liking the story, my dear!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Four: Returning


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After their wedding, James and Jean danced to “Falling in Love Again,” a song that Jean felt was ironically appropriate, considering the circumstances. She was “falling in love again”, and she wanted to enjoy the feeling for as long as it lasted.

She and James danced for several more songs before she asked him if it was time to go to bed. He smiled down at her lovingly and wrapped an arm around her waist before leading her up to their room.

Once inside their suite, James embraced her, one hand straying to her breast and the other straying to her buttocks. She brought her hands to his belt and began to unbuckle it while he caressed her. Suddenly he scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bedroom, before laying her gently on the bed. She gripped his shirt and pulled him on top of her.

He unzipped the back of her dress and dropped it on the floor, before taking off his clothes as well. She pulled him down on top of her again and gripped his shoulders hard as he entered her, completing their oneness that had begun with their marriage that evening.


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Three days later, James and Jean stood on the deck of the Philae, the steamer that would take them up the Nile from Aswan to Luxor. They waved merrily to the people on the shore, who included James’s mother and brothers, before taking refuge under the awning on the top deck.

A waiter came round to offer them beverages, and James ordered a bottle of champagne. The waiter returned promptly with an ice bucket and two champagne flutes, and James popped the cork.

“To us,” he said, repeating Jean’s words from two weeks ago.

“To us,” she echoed, and once more their glasses touched. Jean relaxed in her husband’s arms, sipping champagne as they watched the Nile drift by. She dozed in the lazy afternoon sun, content at last with her life.

James, however, felt no such peace. Guilt about not telling Jean that he had known her fiancé, that he took Hugh’s letters and photographs after his death was gnawing at him. He needed to tell her, but at the same time, he couldn’t. How did you tell someone that?

She stirred, her sleepy eyes peering up at him. “What time is it, darling?” she asked him, stifling a yawn. He checked his watch.

“A quarter to five,” he replied.

She sat up straighter and stretched. “Mmm. We’d best freshen up for tea, then,” she said, standing.

“All right,” he agreed, standing as well and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let’s go.”

Tea was served in the lounge, and James and Jean had a chance to meet their fellow passengers. There was a French family on board, consisting of a mother, father, and two young daughters; and elderly British man and his young nurse; a middle-aged American woman with her adolescent son; and a young married couple from Canada.

James and Jean sat with the American woman, Fiona O’Neill, and her son, Patrick O’Neill. Fiona was a schoolteacher, and she and Jean eagerly discussed different teaching methods. James involved Patrick in a conversation about ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses.

Too soon, it seemed, it was time to change for dinner, and both groups postponed their conversation reluctantly. Upon arriving in the dining room, however, all were glad to see that they were seated at the same table. Jean and Fiona spent the rest of the trip chatting – they had become quite good friends by the end of the trip.


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For both Jean and James, the trip came to too quick an end, for at the end of the trip, they had only a few more days before they travelled to Edinburgh to begin their new life together.

When they docked in Luxor after a week on the Nile, Fiona and Patrick rejoined Fiona’s husband and Patrick’s father Walter in Luxor, en route to Abydos, and James and Jean made their way to the Winter Palace Hotel, where they would stay for three days before returning to Cairo.

Those three days were very full, with visits to Queen Hatshepsut’s funerary temple, the Colossi of Memnon, Luxor Temple, Karnak Temple, and the Valley of the Kings. At the end of those three days, they once more boarded a train, this one bound for Cairo. From Cairo, they took an aeroplane back to Edinburgh.

Upon arriving in Edinburgh, they took a taxicab to Jean’s flat. When they arrived, walked up the stairs, and were outside of her front door, she became very shy – it wasn’t a very large flat, after all, and she knew that he was used to much better things, after all. And what if he didn’t like it? As she unlocked the door, she felt the world drop out from beneath her as James lifted her easily and carried her over the threshold. When he set her down, he drew her into a deep kiss.

“I hadn’t realised until now how much I had missed Scotland,” he said. “But I know that it is because you are here with me that it is the most marvellous place in the world.”

“Mmm, I love you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. He broke out of the kiss only to bring in the remainder of the luggage and to close the door of the flat, before she reclaimed his lips passionately and she led him into the bedroom.


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Two days later, a Friday morning, Jean told James over breakfast that her “special girls” were coming for tea.

“You see, I have my “set” of girls who are very dear to me, and they come for tea every Friday afternoon. I’d like for them to meet you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, darling. Do you want me to stay the entire time, or do you want some alone time with your girls?” he asked.

“I’d actually like some alone time with my girls, darling,” she said. “Thank you for understanding.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“I’ll let you introduce me, then go for a walk – re-acquaint myself with Edinburgh.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Jean told him. He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.

“I love you, Jean,” he told her.

At five o’clock, a knock sounded on the door of Jean Brodie’s flat. Jean opened the door to reveal her four girls.

“Miss Brodie!” her girls cried, and she hugged them before ushering them into her flat. They took a seat at Jean’s dining room table.

“Girls, I have someone I’d like for you to meet,” she said, smiling and blushing becomingly. “Why don’t you pour the tea, Sandy dear, and I’ll be back in a moment.”

Jean walked down the hallway to get James, and the moment she disappeared from sight, her girls began speculating as to the identity of the person Miss Brodie wanted them to meet.

“Did you see the rings on her finger?” Sandy whispered. Monica, Jenny, and Mary nodded, eyes wide.

“I bet she married Mr. Lowther!” Mary said.

“Don’t be stupid, Mary,” Monica said derisively. “Miss Brodie was in Egypt, remember? Mr. Lowther was here.”

“And why would Miss Brodie need to introduce us to Mr. Lowther?” Sandy snorted. “We already know him.”

At that moment, Miss Brodie returned to the dining room, a tall, tanned man with dark hair and blue eyes following her.

“Girls, I’d like you to meet James Azhar – my husband. James, this is Sandy, Mary, Monica, and Jenny; my special girls.”

“Very pleased to meet you, girls,” James said, sketching a bow, an arm wrapped around his wife’s waist.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Azhar,” the girls chorused.

“And congratulations!” Jenny chimed in.

“Thank you, Jenny, dear,” Jean said.

James smiled down at his wife. “All right, darling, I’ll see you in a few hours,” James said, giving her a kiss. He walked out the door, pausing only once to blow her a kiss before he left.

“Oh, Miss Brodie! Miss Brodie!” Monica exclaimed as the door closed behind James. “You’re married!”

“When? Where? How did you meet him?” Sandy asked.

“Girls, girls! I will tell you everything. Sandy, will you pour me some tea, please? Thank you. Now, let me see – let’s start at the beginning. James was my dragoman in Egypt. We fell in love at first sight, and he proposed to me a week later. We were married by his father, the Prime Minister of Egypt, two weeks ago, and we honeymooned on the Nile, then in Luxor, before returning to Edinburgh.”

“How romantic,” Monica sighed.

“Does this mean we won’t have Sunday lunch at Cramond anymore?” Mary asked.

“It does mean that, Mary,” Jean said patiently. “Once the school year begins again, we’ll have our Sunday lunches here.”

“Will Miss MacKay still allow you to teach at Marcia Blaine now that you’re married?” asked Sandy.

“I expect so. James’s aunt on his mother’s side is on the Board of Governors, and I doubt that Miss MacKay would want to offend the son of the Prime Minister of Egypt,” Jean told them.

“I’m glad that you’re happy, Miss Brodie,” Jenny said.

“Thank you, dear. Now, who would like some biscuits?”


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While Jean and her girls were having tea, James re-acquainted himself with the city of Edinburgh. He walked around the old city, then the new, before entering the building where Jean had her flat. He unlocked the door and was greeted by the sight of his smiling wife serving dinner.

“Hello, darling. Did you have a nice time with your girls?” he asked her, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a kiss on her lips.

“Very. Did you have a nice time as well?”

“Yes – rediscovering Edinburgh was quite nice, though I wish that you had been with me. Maybe you can show me your favourite places next time.”

“That sounds marvellous, darling,” she said.

They sat down to a mouth-watering dinner of lasagne Verde.

“Delicious, darling,” he said at the end of the meal. James cleared the plates and would not let her help.

“No, Jean – you cooked, I will clean. This is a marriage, after all, and it should be an equal partnership. I love you, and I want this to be a successful marriage.”

She looked at him in surprise. Gordon had never offered to clean the dishes after she cooked for him. As James cleaned up, Jean entered the parlour and curled up on her sofa, thinking about how life had changed since her marriage.

James was a wonderful man – so considerate, loving, caring – he was a marvellous companion, excellent lover, and such a fine person. Being married to him was how she imagined being married to Hugh would have been like. It had been a moment of madness on her part when she had agreed to marry James, but she was glad that it had happened. She envied James, and marrying him was the best decision she had ever made.

Her husband joined her on the sofa, and she pressed her body against his.

“I love you, Jean,” James said, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her lips.

“And I love you, James,” Jean replied. She shifted her weight so that she sat perched on his knees, facing him. Their lips met again, and she pressed her hand against the growing bulge in his trousers. He let out a low moan and she smiled in response. Just as she began to unzip his trousers and he started on the buttons on her blouse, a knock sounded at the door. She sighed and buried her face against her husband’s warm neck, but the knocker was insistent. With great reluctance she stood up and made her way to the door. She opened it and was faced with Gordon Lowther.

“Gordon!” she gasped, smoothing down her hair and re-buttoning her blouse with fumbling, nervous fingers. He took in her dishevelled appearance with a shocked eye.

“Hello, Jean. May I come in?” he asked, not waiting for an answer but pushing past her into her flat. She rushed after him, trying to stop him from entering her parlour. He strode forward but stopped dead when he saw James on the sofa, hastily zipping up his trousers and buckling his belt.

As James stood, Gordon walked towards him forcefully and punched him square in the jaw, knocking the surprised James back onto the sofa.

“Gordon!” Jean cried, flying at him and hitting his chest with her fists. James stood up, holding a shirtsleeve to his bleeding lip, and eased his free arm around her waist, pulling her down to the couch.

“Jean, darling, it’s all right,” he soothed her. James looked back up at Gordon, then at Jean, but held his tongue. Gordon, however, did not.

“Jean, who is this man? Why is he in your house?” Gordon asked her, barely containing his fury.

“My husband,” she snapped. “And who are you to question that? This is not your house, we are not married, and you have no control over me.”

“Jean,” James whispered. “Calm down. It’s all right.”

“What?” Gordon interjected. “Your HUSBAND?” He advanced towards James again, but Jean stepped between them. James squeezed Jean’s shoulder lightly.

“Yes,” said James calmly. “I am James Azhar, Jean’s husband. We’ve been married for two weeks now.”

Gordon’s gaze travelled from James to Jean.

“Well, then,” Gordon said. “I can see that I won’t be welcome here any longer,” he continued. “Goodbye, Jean.” Gordon leaned toward Jean and gave her a light kiss on the lips, to which she did not respond. Gordon left the parlour, and a few moments later they heard the door slam. Jean buried her face in James’s chest, but he held her back from him so that he could look in her eyes.

“Who was that, Jean? A former lover?” James asked.

“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “He is the music teacher at Marcia Blaine, Gordon Lowther. We’ve been lovers for the past four years. He was in love with me, but I was not in love with him. I was in love with Teddy Lloyd, the art master at Marcia Blaine, but he is married. At least, I believed myself in love with him – before I met you. Because I couldn’t have Teddy, I yielded to Gordon’s pursuit of me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” Jean finished.

Once more James felt guilty about not telling Jean that he had known Hugh, but once again he pushed his guilt aside. Once more she buried her face in his chest and this time James cradled her head in his large hands, stroking her thick golden hair. He sat down on the sofa and she curled up in his lap.

“I hope that this Teddy Lloyd won’t attack me as well,” James said wryly. Jean sat up in his arms and touched his still-bleeding lip with gentle fingertips. He winced.

“Oh, James! I’m so sorry – does it hurt much?” she asked.

“A bit,” he admitted, wincing again as he spoke. Jean stood up and hurried into the kitchen, wrapping some ice in a dishtowel, bringing it back to James. She sat back onto his lap and held the ice up to his injured lip. He sighed in relief as the bleeding abated. Jean returned the bloodied dishcloth to the kitchen to soak in cold water, and then persuaded James to take a hot bath.

After undressing James, she shed her clothes as well and joined her husband in her large, claw footed bathtub, washing his back tenderly and kissing his shoulder, her hands slipping around to caress his pectorals. Her hands slipped even lower and massaged his swiftly-hardening cock. He stopped her hands from continuing in their task and he stood up from the bathtub, pulling the plug and allowing the water to drain out, before lifting her out of the bathtub and perching her on the edge of the counter. He encouraged her legs to wrap around his hips, and he pulled her up against him so that his erection was pressing into her entrance. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered herself onto him, moaning as he filled her. He walked over to the bathroom door, his arms underneath her thighs holding her against him still, and closed the door, pressing her back against it as he moved in her. With each thrust, he penetrated deeper and deeper, and her legs tightened around his hips in time with his cock pulsing within her. Her hands gripped his back as she neared orgasm, and she finally cried out his name as her passion exploded.

He stilled his trusts and moved one hand up her back as her breathing returned to normal. Reaching behind her, he opened the bathroom door and walked to their bedroom, still carrying her. He withdrew from her, placing her on the bed, before rolling her onto her back and entering her again. Although she was still recovering from her previous orgasm, she became aroused almost immediately, gripping the blankets spasmodically as he thrust into her, her moans increasing his arousal. He couldn’t wait much longer, but he managed to hold himself back until she came again, when his self-control abandoned him and spurred on his release.

Later, as they lay in bed, James asked Jean about Gordon.

“Did he make you happy? Was he a good lover? Do you regret marrying me?”

“Oh James,” she sighed, kissing his chest. “No, to all of your questions – he did not make me happy; he was not a good lover; and I don’t regret marrying you. He was not a very considerate person – you are, my darling! Gordon asked me to marry him so many times, but I always refused him. I accepted your proposal because I love you! You make me happy – you are such a giving, generous man; you are a marvellous lover; and I do NOT regret marrying you. I love you – I never loved Gordon.”

“I’ve never been happier than when I am with you, Jean,” he told her, tightening his embrace. “You are my everything.”

She nuzzled his neck as his breathing slowed, and though he fell asleep quite quickly, she lay awake in his embrace, praying that when she did see Teddy again, the confrontation would not be as violent as the confrontation with Gordon.

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Five: Nightmares


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Jean did not get much sleep that night, finally drifting off around four o’clock in the morning. She didn’t sleep well, as she was plagued with nightmares of possible confrontations with Teddy. She woke up to an empty bed and lay there for a moment, trying to regain her bearings after a long, near-sleepless night. As she slowly woke up, she could hear her husband in the kitchen and could smell breakfast cooking.

She stretched and got out of bed, yawning as she made her way to the kitchen, not bothering to don a dressing gown before entering the kitchen. She made her way over to her husband, who was standing at the stove, flipping rashers of bacon onto an already full platter. James turned to Jean after he shut the oven off, wrapping his arms around her slender waist.

“Good morning, darling,” he said, placing a light kiss on her lips. “Hungry?”

“Quite,” she replied, attempting and failing to stifle a yawn as she made her way to the parlour, picking up a blanket from the back of the sofa, wrapping it around her nude form. She then sat down at the dining room table as James brought the breakfast platter, plates, and silverware over. He sat down and filled her plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, strawberries, and hotcakes. Jean ate hungrily, having seconds of everything, James finishing the rest.

After breakfast, Jean tried to persuade James to let her clean the dishes, but he refused.

“Darling, you are exhausted,” he told her. “Try to get some sleep – I’ll take care of the dishes.”

She protested, but was cut off by an enormous yawn, causing her knees to buckle. James caught her just in time and carried her into their bedroom, laying her down on their bed. She was asleep almost immediately. James left the room to clean up after their breakfast.

As he cleaned, he worried about his wife – it was obvious that she had not got much sleep last night, and he was concerned. If the confrontation with Gordon could do that to her, how would the inevitable confrontation with her other lover – the one who was far more important to her – affect her?

When he finished clearing up the breakfast dishes, he checked on his wife, whose slumber was peaceful, finally. Writing her a note, he placed it on her nightstand and got dressed, before donning a coat and leaving the flat, headed towards the grocer’s.


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She was on the deck of the Philae, lying in her husband’s arms, the sun beating down on them. It was hot, but not uncomfortably so, and she was enjoying the sensation of utter relaxation that she was experiencing. As she lay there, content, she was shaken out of her peaceful state by a buzzer, and was jolted out of her dream.


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Her doorbell was ringing, and Jean hurried to get it, gripping the blanket around her. She opened the door and revealed Teddy Lloyd.

“Hello, Jean. May I come in?” he asked, just as Gordon had the day before, and pushed past her into the parlour. She hurried after him, and tried to prevent him from going any further into her flat. She failed, and found that he did not stop at her parlour, but entered her bedroom as well, settling himself on the bed. He kicked off his shoes and lay back against the pillows, stretching himself. She approached him, her face set in unfamiliar stern lines which quickly changed to shock as he gripped her round her waist and pulled her on top of him, meeting her lips with his own. She didn’t respond as he expected her to, but fought to get free of him, causing him to tighten his hold on her.

“No, Teddy, no!” she cried, her fists beating at his chest. “I don’t love you! I don’t!”

As she shouted this declaration, she heard someone calling her name and felt someone shaking her lightly.

“Jean! Jean, darling, wake up! Jean!”

She woke up and saw the anxious face of her husband, and flung herself into his arms, sobbing.

“Oh, God, James...” she cried, her tears soaking his cotton shirt. “James...”

He rubbed her back soothingly, placing gentle kisses on the top of her head. “I’m here, my darling,” he said, feeling ashamed that he could not offer her any other comforting words. “I’m here...”

He tightened his embrace and felt her fingers fumbling for the buttons on his shirt; he pulled back and looked down at her.

“Jean?” he asked her questioningly. She ignored him, continuing to unbutton his shirt. “Jean?” he asked again.

“I need you, James,” she breathed, beginning to unbutton his trousers. “Now, please...” she begged him, trailing off as he pressed his mouth to hers. He could never help but acquiesce when she pleaded with him, and this time was no exception. She pulled down his trousers and boxers, freeing his growing erection, and he pushed her back against the bed, unwrapping the blanket from her body.

James hesitated as he reached out to caress her breasts. “Are you sure that you want this, Jean?” he asked her, eyes questioning.

“Yes, please, James, please,” she begged him again. “Please, I need you; I need you now.” Her words trailed off into a moan as he lowered his mouth to her breast, his tongue teasing her nipple into a tight peak. He moved on to the next breast as her hands came up and gripped the back of his head, fingers burying themselves in his thick dark hair, holding him closer to her.

His mouth trailed lower, gently nipping her breasts, her stomach, passing over her crux and travelling down her thighs. She moaned, rocking her hips, and he moved up her body again, his tongue moving from her entrance to her clitoris and back again as she began to come, crying out his name.

Before her orgasm is complete, he entered her swiftly, moving within her, increasing his speed as her hands grip his back tighter. She was carried into another orgasm as he attained his release, and she tightened her grip, keeping him on top of her.

“I love you, James, I love you,” she murmured. “Always, only you...” She laced one leg around his, and allowed him to roll them over so that they were lying on their sides. She pressed herself against him, urging his arms to tighten his embrace. He kissed her forehead.

“And I love you, Jean,” he told her, looking into her eyes. She gazed back up at him, her light blue eyes filled with such trust and love that he yet again felt guilty at keeping the fact that he had known Hugh a secret from her. Once more pushing away his guilt, he tenderly kissed her lips, tightening his embrace. Jean finally drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[Junora]

Yeah, an update. And what an update, wonderful.
XD
Love it.

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Six: Confessions


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When they had returned to Edinburgh from Egypt, Jean had written to the Board of Governors and to Miss Mackay informing them of her marriage. The day after her nightmare about Teddy, she received a response to her earlier letter. The response was written by James’s aunt, Lillian MacNab, who was a member of the Board. In the letter, Lillian congratulated Jean and James, and informed Jean that she still had her position at Marcia Blaine. In addition, the letter offered James a job as one of the history teachers for the Upper School.

“I won’t take the position unless you want me to, Jean,” he told her when they read the letter. “We don’t need the money, and I can always find another job. I don’t want to encroach on your territory.”

“I’d like for you to teach at Marcia Blain with me,” she said, looking into his eyes. “That is, if you would like to.” She smiled at him, and he grinned.

“Well, that’s settled,” he said as he sat down to write out his acceptance of the position. When he finished, he signed and sealed the letter, writing his aunt’s name on the front.

“I’m just going to run down to the corner and post this,” James said to Jean, who was reading a book on the sofa. She looked up and nodded before turning back to her novel, The Awakening, by Kate Chopin. James walked out of their flat, down the stairs, and to the corner, dropping the letter in the post box, before returning to the flat.

Jean was still immersed in her novel, so James got out a notepad and began to draft out a brief outline on the topics he would be teaching. Both were so involved in their activities that they only realised it was time for supper when it got too dark to see.

“It seems that we rather lost track of time,” Jean said wryly. Her husband nodded in agreement. Jean carefully marked her place and set her book down, standing up and stretching. James followed her lead.

“Why don’t we just have a simple meal – sandwiches, perhaps?” James suggested.

“Sounds wonderful,” Jean replied. “I’m quite hungry.”

“All right,” he said. “Why don’t you set the table while I make dinner?” he suggested, and she nodded. In a very short while, the Azhars were eating their rather late supper.

Once again, James refused to let Jean clean up, only relenting enough to let her dry the dishes. After the kitchen was clean, Jean took James’s hand and led him into their bedroom to show him just how much she appreciated being taken care of.


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Two weeks later, James and Jean drove to Marcia Blaine to set up their classrooms. Jean had only a few changes to her classroom, so she helped James set up his classroom. They hung up pictures of Egypt and maps on the walls, and set up his desk. When they finished, Jean took James on a tour of the school. As they passed by Jean’s classroom, they saw that the door was open and the lights were on, unlike how Jean left them. Jean and James stopped walking, and James walked in front of Jean, entering the classroom, Jean behind him. When they looked into her classroom, they saw a man sitting on her desk, facing the blackboard. Upon seeing him, Jean let out a quiet gasp, causing the man to turn around. It was Teddy Lloyd.

He smiled when he saw her, but his smile quickly turned into a frown when he noticed James. His eyes travelled down to their joined hands, and they noticed the rings on the third finger of her left hand.

“It is true, then,” Teddy said, standing up and walking towards her. “I didn’t want to believe Lowther, but I can see that it is true. Why did you do it, Jean?” he asked her, ignoring James.

“I married James because I love him,” Jean said calmly, though inside she was shaking.

Teddy snorted. “Like you loved me?” he asked her, sneering.

Jean shook her head. “No. I love James much, much more,” she told him. “I’m sorry, Teddy.”

Teddy stepped closer to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, gripping her so hard that she knew that she’d be bruised the next day. “Damn it, Jean! I love you!” he said, gripping her shoulders tightly and shaking her so hard that her teeth rattled. “I love you!”

James stepped toward him and grabbed his arms, pinning them behind his back. “Don’t you ever touch my wife again,” he growled menacingly.

Teddy glared at him, and wrested his arms out of James’s grip. “Touch me again and you’ll regret it,” he told James before stalking out of the room.

After Teddy had left, Jean began to tremble. James wrapped a supporting arm around her waist and helped her to their car and then drove her back to the flat. By the time they reached their flat, she was shaking too badly to walk, so James carried her up the stairs and laid her on the bed, while he entered the kitchen to make her a cup of hot, strong, sweet tea. He brought the tea into their bedroom, and helped her to sit up as she drank it. When the tea was finished, she dropped off to sleep, and James sat on the edge of the bed, just watching her, making sure that she did not have nightmares.

When he felt confident that she would not have any more nightmares, he quietly rummaged in his side of the dresser, pulling out a box filled with Jean’s letters to Hugh. He sat down in the armchair in the corner of their bedroom and began re-reading them.


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My darling,

I love you; I miss you. I need you to come back to me – oh, my darling, I need you so much... I cannot wait until your next leave – I cannot wait to make love to you again. You make me feel so wonderful, so beautiful – so desirable. I’m never happier than when I am in your arms. I need you – I need you! Why did this war have to happen? It’s taken so much away from us –far, far too much.

Oh, Hugh – my darling Hugh – I wish that you could be here in my arms. I wish that we could spend eternity in each other’s arms, showing each other our love, being connected in every way – mind, body, and soul. Oh, my dearest one, please stay safe – I couldn’t bear it if anything should happen to you – I love you so much.

All my love,

Jean


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While James was reading the first letter, Jean had woken up, though he did not realise it. She watched him read, and when he replaced the letter in the envelope, she spoke.

“What are you reading?” she asked him. He jumped, startled, and he tried to brush off her question.

“Nothing,” he said, but she picked up on the guilty tone of his voice, and walked over to him, taking the letter out of his hand. He didn’t resist, knowing that it would be futile. He watched guiltily as her face went pale as she read the name of her late fiancé on the envelope.

“How did you get this?” she asked weakly, hands shaking.

“Perhaps you’d better sit down, darling,” he suggested tenderly, standing up and guiding her to the bed.

Though she allowed herself to be guided to the bed, she did not allow herself to be coddled, instead, she turned toward him with cold eyes.

“How did you get this?” she asked again, her voice a bit stronger.

He sighed. “I got them from Hugh,” he admitted.

That wasn’t the explanation she had expected – her jaw dropped and her face grew pale again. “Wh-wh-what?” she stammered.

“Hugh and I were in the war together – we were bunk-mates and best friends. When he died, I took his letters.”

She looked at him, utterly confused. “But why?” she asked him. “Why?”

“Because I was jealous of Hugh,” he said.

That was another answer that she wasn’t expecting, and she stared at him, open-mouthed. “Jealous of Hugh? Why?”

“Because he had you. I was jealous because he had found you, because he was so in love with you, and you with him. I was jealous because he had found the love of his life – you.”

“So you took his letters?” she asked him, tears running down her face.

“Yes, I took his letters – I had fallen in love with you, you see, by the way he described you, and I fell deeper in love with you by reading your letters to him. When I was contacted by the Ministry of Tourism about being your dragoman, I couldn’t believe that I would be so lucky. And when I met you, I fell even more irrevocably in love with you. I couldn’t believe that you would return my feelings, let alone become my wife. I love you, Jean – I’ve loved your for nigh on twenty years now. I was not lying when I said that you are my everything – you have been my everything for a long, long time,” he finished, looking at her lovingly yet apprehensively, wondering if she would accept his explanation, taking her hand in his and rubbing its back. She allowed herself to lean against him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I took his letters because I love you,” he whispered, and she nodded against his chest.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, accepting his explanation. “I love you, too.”

[Junora]

Ok I forgot to review.
I'm sooo sorry.

Ok back to the story, I love this new chapter.

MORE please *beg*

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Seven: Surprise!


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Jean lay in her husband’s arms that night, thinking of the revelation he had made. He had known Hugh, he had taken the letters she had written to Hugh, and he had been in love with her for twenty years. She loved him, and obviously he loved her, too. Content with the fact that while James had kept a secret from her – a quite important secret, at that – but he did love her, and that was all that was important to her. At peace with herself, she drifted off to sleep.


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When Jean woke up the next morning, she found a rose on her bedside table with a note attached.

“My dearest love,” the note began, “my aunt rung and insisted that I go over to her house immediately. You looked so peaceful, so I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll (hopefully) return soon. I love you, my darling. James.”

Jean sighed in disappointment; she was looking forward to spending a relaxing morning in bed with her husband. She laid the note on the bedside table again and picked up her dressing gown, shrugging into it. She picked up the rose again and walked into the kitchen, planning to find a vase to put the rose in. When she entered the kitchen, however, she stopped as she saw a large banner across the kitchen, reading “Happy Birthday Jean!”

Jean clapped a hand to her mouth and stared at the banner. James walked up to her and presented her with eleven red roses.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he said as she took the roses from him, cradling them in one arm and reached out to take his hand, entwining her fingers with his. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I completely forgot that it was my birthday!” Jean laughed when they broke out of their kiss. James chuckled as well, before taking the bouquet from Jean and putting the roses in a vase, before pulling out a chair for her at the table. She took her seat gracefully and James brought over a tray of her favourite breakfast foods.

When they finished their breakfast, James presented Jean with a small wrapped box.

“This is only the first of your presents, my dearest,” he told her as she eagerly tore away the wrapping. She opened the black velvet box to reveal a silver key. She looked up at him, puzzled.

“It’s the key to our new house, Jean,” James told her with barely concealed excitement.

“Our new house?” asked Jean in amazement. “Oh, James!” She threw herself into his arms, planting kisses all over his face.

James laughed and held her to him tighter. “Why don’t you get dressed and we can go over and see it?” he suggested and she nodded, still smiling at him. She stretched up to give him one last kiss on the lips before rushing off excitedly to the bedroom to get dressed.

A few minutes later, Jean came out of the bedroom, twirling around slowly for her husband’s benefit. She was wearing his favourite dress, a blue frock whose colour matched her eyes exactly, and whose hem fell to mid-calf, revealing tantalising glimpses of her leg.

“How do I look?” she asked him, smiling as his eyes grew dark.

“Absolutely marvellous, my darling,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her hungrily. She responded, but pulled back before the kiss got too heated.

“Let’s go see the house, James,” she said, and he nodded, placing a last, brief kiss on her lips before picking up the key to their car and the key to their new house, which he handed to Jean.

They drove to the house, Jean trying to guess where it was, and James refusing to answer in the positive or negative. After a few minutes, they turned onto a street and James told Jean to close her eyes, which she did. He parked the car up in front of a beautiful, two-storey stone house in the heart of old Edinburgh. Jean had told him that this was the house that she had always dreamed of living in, and, with the help of his aunt, James had purchased and furnished the house as a birthday surprise for his wife.

Turning off the engine, he opened his door. “Keep your eyes closed, my darling,” he told her, and she nodded. He got out of the car and opened her door, helping her out. He guided her over to the bottom of the front walkway.

“All right, you can open your eyes now,” he told her, and she did.

“Oh, James!” she exclaimed. “Is it really ours?”

“Yes, it is, my darling,” he said. “Happy birthday, my love.”

She broke into a smile and threw her arms around him. “I love you, James,” she whispered as she kissed him again. He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her up the walk as she laughed in joy. Still in his arms, she unlocked the door, and he carried her over the threshold.

He set her down in the main hall, which was already furnished, as all the rooms were. James showed her the house, starting in the large, well-stocked kitchen, next the dining room, the parlour, the study, and the washroom; then they went upstairs to the two guest bedrooms, the other washroom, and finally their bedroom.

Their room had wonderfully high ceilings, with a large canopy bed in the middle of the room. A wardrobe, vanity, and dresser rounded out the furniture, and there was a large mirror, as well as prints of some of her favourite artwork, hanging on the walls.

Jean peeked into their bathroom, which had a very large claw-foot bathtub, in addition to a sink and toilet. Once Jean had finished looking at their bathroom, already deciding to get James into the tub later that evening, she returned to the bedroom, where James was waiting for her.

“Do you like your present, my dear?” he asked her, seating himself on the bed.

“Like it? Oh, James, it’s perfect!” she exclaimed, joining him on the bed, kissing him. She kicked off her shoes and lay back against the pillows. “Make love to me, James,” she whispered, and he nodded, carefully, unbuttoning her dress and helping her out of her lingerie, before unbuttoning his shirt and trousers. As soon as he was as naked as she, she pulled him back onto the bed with her.

“I love you so, James; I love you so!” she moaned as he caressed her breasts. “Oh, James, James!” She began to come as he knelt between her legs, his tongue travelling from her entrance to her clitoris and back again, lapping up her juices. Her legs had wrapped around him, and her heels dug into his back as she arched up off the bed. As her orgasm subsided, he pushed himself further up on the bed, lying down next to her, pulling her body against his.

She pillowed her head against his shoulder as her hand crept down to his erection. Her hand began to boldly stroke his erection, her thumb grazing the head of his penis. He moaned, a deep, low sound, and she smiled coyly.

“I love you so much, Jean,” he said. “I love you.” He propped himself up on his elbows as he rolled her onto her back, guiding himself into her. She moaned and gripped his back tightly, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he moved within her.

“Oh, God, James!” she cried as she began to come, contracting around him, causing him to grip her shoulders tightly and drive into her deeply one last time before he released into her, calling her name.

She snuggled into him and kissed his shoulder.

“I love you, my darling; I love you so, so much,” he said. “Are you having a good birthday?”

“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed, tilting her head up and kissing him on the lips. She hummed in satisfaction as his tongue slipped into her mouth, her tongue duelling with his as she felt him begin to grow hard again within her.

“Mmm, my darling,” she murmured as he began to thrust within her. “Mmm...”

“Oh, Jean,” he groaned as she flexed her muscles around him, her hips meeting his every thrust. “Jean...”

He lowered his mouth to her neck and nipped her collarbone lightly. She gasped as she began to climax suddenly. As she gripped his back tightly he was carried into his own orgasm, and allowed himself to fall on top of her.

She wrapped one of her legs around his and allowed him to roll her onto her side. “Oh, God, I love you James. So much. You are so good to me...” she trailed off, kissing him lightly on his lips.

“You deserve it, my dearest. You are so wonderful – so perfect. You are the only one I have ever loved,” he told her, returning her kisses. She sighed contentedly, snuggling into his warm body and gradually allowed herself to fall asleep. He watched her for a while, stroking her hair, before allowing himself to drift off into slumber.

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Eight: Golden Days


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Much later that afternoon, the sun shone into their windows, waking up the two inhabitants of the bed. Jean stretched in her husband’s arms, planting a light kiss on the tip of his nose and smiled down at him.

“Hello, my darling,” he said, bringing his hand around to the back of her neck and pulled her down for another kiss, and another, before the growling of his stomach caused them to break apart.

“Hungry, my dearest?” she teased him, placing her delicate hand on his stomach. Her hand began to creep lower, but he grabbed it, bringing it up to his lips before it could close around his penis.

“No, no, no, my naughty one, not now – we have a dinner reservation – you don’t want to be late, now do you?” he asked her.

“Oh, really? Where?” she asked.

“Le Café Saint Honoré, my dear,” he told her, pleased when her jaw dropped.

“Really? Oh, James, really?” she asked him, excited.

“Yes – another one of your birthday presents, my dearest,” he said. “And there’s another in the wardrobe, if you’d care to look,” he told her.

“Really?” she asked, and did not wait for his answer, but leapt out of bed and ran to the wardrobe, throwing open the doors and revealing a gorgeous midnight blue silk gown.

“Oh, James!” she exclaimed in delight. “It’s beautiful!”

“There are shoes to match – they’re in the bottom drawer. And if you check your vanity, there’s another surprise,” he said, pleased that she liked his choice of a dress. He had sat on the edge of the bed so he could see her reaction. He hoped that she would be equally pleased with his choice of jewellery. The exclamations of delight when she opened the black velvet box to reveal a gold chain with a sapphire pendant, along with matching earrings. She left the box on the vanity and rushed towards him, knocking him back on the bed as she covered his face with kisses.

“Oh, my darling, my darling,” she said, kissing his lips repeatedly. “I love you – you are so wonderful to me. I love you,” she continued.

He returned her kisses, before his stomach grumbled again.

“I think that it’s really time for dinner,” she giggled, standing up and pulling him up with her. “Will you help me get dressed?”

“Of course, my love,” he told her, helping her into her new dress and zipping it up. He then changed into his tuxedo while Jean applied her makeup, before fastening his wife’s new necklace around the pristine white column of her throat. She slipped into her new shoes before turning to her husband and helping him tie his tie. He offered her his arm and escorted her downstairs, helping her into her coat before shrugging into his own. Opening their new front door, Jean locked it with glee, blowing a kiss to their new house before she got into the car. James drove to the restaurant, and they were seated quickly in a private dining room.

“This is wonderful, James,” Jean said as they were seated. She reached across the table and took his hand. “This has been the most fabulous birthday I have ever had. Thank you,” she told him, her eyes full of love.

“You deserve it, my love,” he said, squeezing her hand lightly.

She smiled at him, her golden hair glinting in the candlelight, her blue eyes filled with love, her smile showing her joy.

They both enjoyed their dinner – the specialty at Le Café Saint Honoré was traditional Scottish food, though the name and the setting were French. Jean loved it – she had been to Le Café Saint Honoré only once, with Gordon – but it was so much better with James, with the man she loved.


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When they finished their dinner, James paid the bill and helped her into her coat. She smiled at him in thanks, and he returned her smile, giving her a light kiss on the lips. When they got into their car, James drove back to their new house.

As soon as they entered the house and locked the door, James pushed Jean against the wall and pressed against her.

“Oh, God, Jean – I want you. I want you now,” he said, bending down and ravaging her mouth with his own. She moaned and gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. She straddled his leg and pressed her hip against his erection.

“Not here, James – upstairs, let’s go upstairs,” she whispered, though she was unbuttoning his shirt while he unzipped her dress.

He backed up, half-carrying her up the stairs, but he stopped, sitting down on the steps as her dress pooled around her feet. She kicked off her shoes as she unbuckled his belt, and his trousers fell to the floor as well.

“Mmm,” she purred as she pulled down his boxers, licking her lips at the sight of his already-proud erection. She had shed her lingerie as they made their way up the stairs, and he pushed her back against the stairs. Jean gripped the railing tightly as he entered her, raising her legs up to his shoulders.

“Darling, darling, darling James!” she cried out as she began to come, her hands gripping the railings even tighter.

“My Jean! Jean, Jean, my Jean!” he called out as he climaxed at the same time.

He collapsed on top of her, and she tightened her grip on his back. He realised that being pinned beneath him against the stairs must be very uncomfortable for her, and so he wrapped his arms around her and carried her up the stairs, bringing her into their bedroom and setting her down lightly on her feet so he could pull the covers down. Jean slipped between the sheets and reached out for her husband. He obliged her, slipping beneath the sheets as well. Pulling her warm body to him, he sighed in contentment as he inhaled her unique fragrance.

“I hope that you had a marvellous birthday, my love,” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh, I did, James; I did,” she said, tightening her embrace. “I love you.”


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School began four days later. James and Jean had finished moving their clothes and personal belongings into their new house, and Jean’s flat was now up for lease. Her girls had not yet seen her new house, but they knew that she had moved. Jean was having them to tea that afternoon.

On the morning that school started, James and Jean drove to Marcia Blaine. James helped her carry her things to her classroom before Jean brought him to the assembly hall for convocation.

They stood side-by-side in the second row as they sang the opening hymn, before Miss Mackay rose to give the opening address.

“Another school year is upon us here at Marcia Blaine. I hope that you all had splendid summers, and are ready to settle back into the world of academics. Remember, a good beginning makes a good ending,” Miss Mackay said. “This year, we have a new teacher in our midst; Mr. James Azhar, the youngest son of the Prime Minister of Egypt and the nephew of Mrs. MacNab. He will be teaching ancient history in the Senior School.” Miss Mackay paused as the students and most of the faculty applauded – save Gordon Lowther and Teddy Lloyd. When the applause died down, Miss Mackay continued her speech. “We also have one more teacher to introduce, though she is not new to the school. Over the summer, Miss Brodie and Mr. Azhar were married; henceforth Miss Brodie is now Mrs. Azhar.” This was met with stunned silence by everyone except the Brodie girls, who stood up and applauded. Gradually, they rest of the students joined in, though none of the teachers did. The school bell rang, cutting off the applause, and the assembly hall emptied as both teachers and students made their way to their first class.

James walked Jean to her classroom.

“I’ll see you at lunch, my dear,” he said, looking to make sure the coast was clear before kissing her lightly on the lips.

“Yes, I’ll see you at lunch,” she replied, beaming at him. She patted his chest lightly and smiled again before entering her classroom.

“Good morning, girls,” she said as she walked to the front of the room.

“Good morning, Miss Brodie,” her class said in reply, with the exception of her four girls, who said, “Good morning, Mrs. Azhar.” Jean gave her girls a warm smile before turning to the rest of the class.

“Now girls, I am no longer Miss Brodie, though you shall always be Brodie girls. I am Mrs. Azhar now,” she said, writing her new name on the board. “A-Z-H-A-R. Azhar.”

Her girls nodded.

“Now, prop up your books in case of intruders,” Jean said. “If there are intruders, we are doing our history; but we shall not do our history. Instead, I will tell you of my trip to Egypt...”


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“Good morning, class,” James said, striding in to his classroom.

“Good morning, Mr. Azhar,” his class replied.

“I’d like you all to introduce yourselves,” he said. “We’ll start with you,” he pointed at a tall brunette sitting in the front row.

“Morag Llewellyn, Mr. Azhar,” the girl said shyly. He pointed at the next girl.

“Janet McCullough.”

“Helen Cassidy.”

“Kathleen McGregor.”

“Emmaline Stanley.”

“Jane McAllister.”

“Muriel McLeod.”

“Caroline MacNab.” At this name, James looked up.

“Are you the daughter of Lillian MacNab?” he asked her. The girl nodded shyly. “Then I do believe that we are cousins.” The girl nodded again. He smiled at her before pointing at the next girl.

“Eunice O’Connor.”

“Deidre Gardiner.”

“Olivia Ramsay.”

“Grace Stewart.”

“Thank you,” James said when the last girl finished introducing herself. I am Mr. Azhar, your history teacher. This year, we will be studying ancient cultures, including Greece, Rome, Egypt, and Mesopotamia...”


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The bell rang, and James dismissed his class, making his way to his wife’s classroom. Her four special girls were crowded around her desk, and when James entered, they looked up at him.

“Hello, girls,” James said, nodding.

“Hello, Mr. Azhar,” his wife’s girls replied.

“Ready for lunch, James?” his wife asked him, smiling.

“Yes, rather,” he said, coming over to her desk and lifting the picnic basket. Jean led the way outside to their tree.

“The sun! Forsooth, we are renewed,” Jean said as they sat down on the picnic blanket. “Refreshments al fresco; enough to go around.” Her girls began serving themselves, while James prepared two plates – one for him and one for his wife.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him as he handed her a plate. He returned the smile.

Her girls chatted quietly amongst themselves as they ate the picnic Jean had prepared for them.

“I met my cousin today,” James told Jean.

“Your cousin?” she asked.

“Yes, my Aunt Lillian’s daughter. Her name is Caroline. She’s in my ancient history class,” James explained. “I was wondering if we might have her to tea tomorrow. I’d like to get to know her a bit better.”

“Of course,” Jean said. “That would be quite nice. I’d like to meet her.”

James smiled at her. “Wonderful.”

They six of them finished up their meal shortly afterward, and Jean packed the dishes away in the picnic basket. James carried the basket back inside, with his wife and her girls following him. When they arrived at Jean’s classroom, the bell rang, and James told his wife that he would meet her after classes ended.

“Oh, no, James, you go ahead home; I’ll take the tram with my girls,” she told him.

“All right, then. Shall I take the picnic basket, then?”

“Would you? Thank you, dear. I’ll see you at home.” She blew him a kiss and went inside her classroom.


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After the final bell had rung, Jean and her girls had gathered together their things and walked outside, waiting for the tram. It was a short ride to Jean’s new house.

“Oh, it’s so pretty, Miss Brodie – I mean, Mrs. Azhar!” Jenny exclaimed. The other girls stood looking at the house in awe.

“Come inside, girls! It’s time for tea,” Jean told them, and held open the front door for them.

They sat down to a delicious tea, with sandwiches and chocolate sconces. After they finished their tea, Jean took them on a tour of the house. It soon grew dark and the girls bid their teacher and her husband a fond farewell as they boarded the tram again.

[Junora]

WONDERFUL, *grin*
next one please. XD
Love it.

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Nine: Family


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The next day, a Tuesday, dawned bright and clear. Jean and James each had an easy enough day of teaching, and after school, they had Caroline MacNab over for tea. James's cousin was quite a pretty girl, though she looked much younger than her thirteen years. She had golden hair almost the same colour as Jean's, but had deep brown eyes. She was of an average height and was very slender.

“When we’re not at school, Caroline, you may call me James,” he said. She nodded shyly.

“And you may call me Jean,” Jean said. Caroline nodded again.

“Now, how do you take your tea, dear?” Jean asked Caroline.

“A little milk and two lumps of sugar, please, Mrs. – I mean Jean.”


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Over tea, Jean had encouraged Caroline to talk about herself, causing the girl to relax and open up to her cousin and his wife. She wasn’t particularly fond of Marcia Blaine, and she didn’t really have any friends – Caroline was quite thin and had not developed yet, even though she was thirteen. She didn’t have a very happy home life, either – her father had died when she was seven, and her mother never really bothered with her. Jean’s heart broke for her husband’s cousin.

“Well, you are always welcome here, my dear,” Jean told her, squeezing Caroline’s hand.

“Thank you, Jean,” Caroline replied, tears in her eyes. She dug in the pocket of her blazer for a handkerchief and blew her nose.

“It’s getting late – I ought to get going,” said Caroline reluctantly.

“Why don’t you come to tea tomorrow?” James suggested. Caroline agreed.

James drove his cousin back to her home, while Jean went up to the larger of the two guest bedrooms and made notes of everything that would need to be added or changed to make it a suitable room for Caroline.


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When James returned, Jean met him at the door.

“James, I was thinking that we could make the larger guest bedroom into a room for Caroline, so that she’d have a place to call home.”

James smiled. “That’s a wonderful idea, sweetheart – absolutely first-rate!”

She stepped into his arms and pillowed her head against his chest. “I’m glad that you agree.”

He tenderly wrapped his arms around her and guided her up the stairs into their bedroom, where she allowed him to undress her and lead her to the bed, where she pulled down the covers and slipped between them, as he undressed himself. She smiled as he shed his clothes, leaving them piled on an armchair, and she sighed in contentment as he slipped between the covers to join her, kissing his shoulder as he pulled her body towards him.

“I love you, James,” she said, stroking his chest sleepily. She yawned and once more pillowed her head against his shoulder.

“And I love you, my darling,” he said, stroking her hair. “I love you.” They drifted off to sleep, though it was still quite early in the evening.


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James was lying on the beach with his wife. He turned to look her – she was naked, and she smiled coyly at him, before standing up and walking over to him, straddling him. He realised that he was naked, too. She lowered herself onto him, and he moaned.

“Oh, God, Jean,” he moaned, waking up from his dream. In the dim light of their bedroom he could see his wife straddling him; he could feel her sheathing him in her warm, wet heat; and then all thought stopped as he climaxed at the same time as she did. He wrapped his arms around her as she collapsed on top of him.

“Jean, Jean,” he said, holding him to her. He could feel her blushing against his chest.

“I’m sorry, James,” she said, and he could tell by her tone that she was embarrassed.

“For what, my darling?” he asked.

“For... taking advantage of you like that. I’m sorry – I don’t know why, but I woke up and I needed you so much...”

James’s lips on her own cut her explanation off. “My darling, it’s all right, it is fine. It was wonderful. I hope you don’t mind if I wake you up like that sometime.”

He could feel her sigh and smile against him. “I’m glad that you aren’t upset with me, darling. I don’t think that I could bear it otherwise.”

“Of course I’m not upset with you – it was marvellous.”

She yawned. “I’m glad that you thought so, my dear. Good night, my love,” she said, kissing him on the lips and snuggled into his warmth.

“Good night, my darling. I love you,” he replied.


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Several hours later, at seven o’clock, they woke up for the day. Jean couldn’t look her husband in the eye – she was too embarrassed still, despite his reassurances last night. James noticed her chagrin, and sat down on the sofa with her.

“Jean, don’t be ashamed. I love you – I love you so much. Last night was wonderful, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled tentatively, her grin growing wider as he returned her smile. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly, and she opened her mouth, deepening the kiss. He pulled her up out of her chair and down onto his lap, his tongue plundering her mouth. When they broke for air, she stood up.

“James, we can’t... not now – we’ll be late for school.” He moaned in disappointment, but stood up and helped Jean with the breakfast dishes, before they got ready for school.


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That afternoon, Jean and James had Caroline over to tea again. As James was making the tea, Jean sat down with Caroline on the sofa.

“Caroline, dear, James and I have a proposal for you,” Jean began. Caroline sat up straighter.

“Yes, Jean?” she asked.

“Well... James and I were wondering if you’d like to stay with us sometimes. We’d like to make the largest guest bedroom into your room, with your approval, of course.” Jean held her breath as she waited for Caroline’s answer.

Caroline flung herself into Jean’s arms, crying. “I’d love it, Jean – I’d absolutely love it!”

Jean placed a gentle kiss on the top of Caroline’s head, and took a handkerchief out of her pocket, wiping away Caroline's tears. “That’s wonderful, my dear,” she said. “Would you like to go see your new room?”

She pulled back from Jean’s arms and nodded. Jean took her hand and led her up the stairs, flinging open the door to Caroline’s new bedroom.

The room was painted a soft, soothing rose; the large four-poster bed had a rose and white quilt and curtains in a rose-and-white chintz pattern, which matched the vanity seat and armchair in the room. There was also a bookcase, which Jean had stocked with some of her favourite books from her adolescence.

“Anything that you want changed, my dear, just let me or James know, all right?” Jean told her cousin-in-law.

“Oh, Jean, it’s perfect! I love it!” Caroline said in awe. “Thank you!” She embraced her.

“Time for tea!” James called from downstairs.

Jean and Caroline went back downstairs and joined Jean’s husband for tea.

“Thank you so much, James!” Caroline said as they entered the parlour, throwing her arms around him. James laughed.

“Well, from what I remember of Aunt Lillian, she wasn’t the nicest or most caring person to be around, and I can’t imagine that she’s changed much over the years. I’m glad that you like your room – and I hope that you’ll let us know if you want anything changed.”

“No, it’s perfect – thank you so much!” Caroline said.

“You’re welcome, dear,” Jean said, smiling as she squeezed her hand.


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When James drove Caroline back to her mother’s home, he went inside with her to talk to her mother. No one was there – the lights were off, the maid had gone home, and his aunt was nowhere to be found. There was a note on the dining room table. James picked it up and read it aloud.

“Caroline,” he began, “I’ve gone to London for the next few weeks. The maid will make up your meals, and I’ve left some money in your bedroom. I am staying at the Beaufort Hotel; you can reach me there. Mother.”

Caroline started crying, and James strode over to the telephone. “Operator? Get me the Beaufort Hotel, London, England.” A few seconds later, James spoke into the telephone again. “Yes, please connect me to Mrs. Lillian MacNab.” More time passed before James spoke again. “Aunt Lillian? This is James Azhar. I’m calling to say that I am absolutely appalled at the way you are treating your daughter... No, I don’t think that it’s acceptable to leave her alone at the age of thirteen... My wife and I would like Caroline to live with us. That way you could travel as much as you wanted.” There was a pause while James listened to his aunt talk for a few minutes. “Yes. Yes. All right. Good bye.” He hung up the telephone and turned to his cousin.

“You’re going to come live with us, Caroline,” he told her, and once more she flung her arms around him. He hugged her back. “Now, go get your nightgown and your things for tomorrow – we’ll pack up the rest of your clothes tomorrow.” She nodded and ran into her bedroom to gather her things together. James sat down in a chair and sighed. He was glad that he and his wife would be able to take care of Caroline, but he was upset with his aunt. How could she do this to her daughter? He stood up and walked to the telephone, dialling his phone number.

“Hello, darling, it’s me. Aunt Lillian just abandoned Caroline – she’s gone to London for the next three weeks. Yes, just left her here. A note. I called Aunt Lillian – we’re going to have Caroline live with us from now on. Yes, she’s packing up her nightclothes and her uniform for tomorrow. We’ll be home soon. I love you.” He hung up the telephone.

Caroline re-entered the dining room, and she and James went back down to his car and drove to the house, where Jean was waiting.

[KristaMarie]

Aww! *sniff* What horrible parenting! But how wonderful of James and Jean to take her in!

Post more soon!!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Ten: Presents


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The months passed, and it was soon time for Christmas. Jean and James had welcomed Caroline with open arms – Caroline was especially close to Jean. Caroline had been adopted into Jean’s “set”, and she had been welcomed by Jean’s girls. Jean spent a lot of time with Caroline, after they spent time with her “set”, and they grew quite close. Jean had begun to think of Caroline as the daughter she never had.


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Throughout the months that Caroline had lived with them, James had noticed the budding bond between Jean and Caroline. He thought that she was almost... maternal... towards Caroline, and that feeling was confirmed one night in October, when in bed, Jean confided that she wanted a child.

“I want a baby, James,” she whispered to him one night in bed, two weeks into the month of October.

He looked at her in shock. “Really? You want a baby?” he asked her.

“Yes, really, James. I want to be a mother. I want us to have our own child – I do, more than anything.”

“Oh, my darling,” he said, stroking her cheek lightly. “I want a baby too. But are you sure?”

“Yes, James, I’m sure. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now, and I want to start trying for a child,” she said.

He beamed at her. “Then let’s start trying,” he said, kissing her lips.

She returned his smile and his kisses, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him closer to her.

“Oh, James, darling,” she said. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” Her voice grew in volume as he slipped beneath the sheets, kneeling between her legs, his tongue lapping at her most sensitive and secret places. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly as he drew her closer and closer to orgasm, but he emerged from beneath the sheets before she climaxed. He pushed the covers back, kneeling on the mattress, and he raised her up, slipping a pillow beneath her hips, before encouraging her to part her legs. She obliged, and moaned as he entered her.

“Jean, Jean, Jean!” he cried out, collapsing on top of her. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her.

“I love you, James,” she whispered.

“And I love you, Jean,” he replied, holding her tightly.


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Jean took Caroline Christmas shopping in Edinburgh – Caroline purchased a lovely brooch for Jean, and had knitted a thick woollen muffler for James. Jean bought Caroline several books that she wanted and a new cashmere jumper. Jean had decided to give James her late father’s wristwatch, along with another gift that she would give to him in private. She had gone out shopping by herself to get James’s second present – she didn’t want to run the risk of anyone seeing her purchase. She was very excited about this second, private gift, and she couldn’t wait to give it to him.

As Christmas drew nearer, Jean, James, and Caroline decorated the house with garlands of evergreens, wreaths on nearly every door, and a large Christmas tree for the parlour. They used the ornaments from Jean’s childhood to decorate the large tree, as well as strings of popcorn that Jean and her girls had made during their Friday teas.

On Christmas morning, Jean, James, and Caroline sat by the fire in their parlour, sipping tea and opening their Christmas presents. Caroline received four new books and a cashmere jumper from Jean; James gave her a delicate silver bracelet and a diary. From Jean, James had received her late father’s wristwatch; from Caroline, a navy blue woollen muffler she had knit herself. Jean received a beautiful brooch from Caroline and a pair of pearl earrings from her husband.

As they were cleaning up the wrapping paper from their presents, the doorbell rang. Caroline went to answer, but she soon returned.

“Jean, there’s a big box outside with a tag saying it’s for you,” Caroline said. Jean and her husband both went to the door and James brought the box into the parlour, laying it flat on the carpet. Jean opened the box and gasped as the wrapping fell away, revealing a portrait of her. There was a note, which she opened with trembling fingers.

“My dearest love,” it began. “I miss you terribly. Why did you have to marry HIM? I love you, Jean – I always have, and I always will. Please, my darling, I need you – I need you so much. Come back to me, Jean – please, come back. Please, my darling – please. I need you – I need you. Teddy.”

Jean dropped the letter and fainted.


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Later that evening, Jean woke up. She blinked her eyes slowly as the room came into focus – she was in her bedroom, lying in her bed, dressed in her nightgown. She sat up slowly, wincing as the room spun slightly. James rushed to her side, sitting next to her on the bed.

“Jean, my darling, are you all right?” he asked her. He was startled as she burst into tears.

“Why is he doing this to me, James?” she sobbed, curling up into a ball and crying. “Why?”

He gathered her into his arms. “Oh, my darling, my dearest,” he said, rubbing her back. “You are such a wonderful woman – how could he not be in love with you? How could he help himself? And how could he not try to win you back? You are so wonderful, Jean – such a marvel of a woman – and I am so lucky that you agreed to be my wife. I love you, Jean. You are everything to me.”

Her tears slowed a bit, and she snuggled into his embrace. “I love you, too, James,” she whispered to him. Her tears abated as he rubbed her back and kissed her forehead tenderly.

“I love you so much, my darling,” he said. “I love you so, so much,” he continued, “more than anything. I love you.”

She tilted her head up and smiled at him, kissing him lightly. “James, I have another present for you,” she said, her smile growing wider.

“And I have another present for you as well,” he said, returning her grin. They both went to their respective hiding places for their presents – Jean had hid hers in her lingerie drawer; James had hid his in his nightstand. They both settled on the bed again, and exchanged gifts.

“Happy Christmas, my darling,” he said, handing her a wrapped box.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” she replied, handing him a small bag.

She opened her present first, revealing a gorgeous white silk and lace nightgown.

“Oh, James,” she breathed, fingering the silk and admiring the lace. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad that you like it, Jean,” he said, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling her neck. “And I hope that you will agree to model it for me.”

“I’d like to model it for you, James, but first you have to open your present,” she said. He nodded, and opened the bag, reaching in and pulling out a small, wrapped object. He unwrapped the gift, and his jaw dropped as he revealed a small, silver rattle. There was a card in the bag as well; he opened it and read it aloud: “Congratulations, Daddy!”

“You’re pregnant, Jean?” he asked her, cupping her cheek in his hand. She nodded, her eyes filled with tears as she smiled at him. “Oh, my dear,” he said, pulling her closer to him. “I love you; I love you.” Her smile grew wider as he bent down and captured her lips gently with his, his other hand straying to her still-flat abdomen. “This has been the most marvellous Christmas ever,” he whispered in her ear, and she nodded.

“I agree,” she said, and tilted her face up for another kiss. He obliged, and soon the rattle and the nightgown were lying forgotten on the nightstand as Jean and James celebrated their impending parenthood.

[Junora]

uuuuhhh a baby, wonderful. *squeal*

This is wonderful, she is pregnant, I can't wait till Teddy and Gordon will learn that she is pregnant.
Muhahaha, ooohh I have evil thoughts at this moment and it's all your fault.

Love it.

Lottie

[KristaMarie]

I knew it! This is bound to get even more interesting... post more soon!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Eleven: Choices


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Jean and James kept their impending parenthood a secret; after all, Jean was only a month and a half pregnant, and they didn’t want to let anyone know until she was further along, just in case. Jean had accepted the fact that she would have to resign her job after news of her pregnancy became known, but she was looking forward to being able to spend more time with Caroline, her girls, her husband, and their unborn child. After all, her girls would be entering the Senior School in the upcoming year, and at least James would be teaching them, so she would still be able to see them.

As for the portrait that Teddy had given her for Christmas, James had put it into the attic, at Jean’s request. She couldn’t bring herself to dispose of it in any other fashion – he had spent so much time on it, after all, and it was an excellent portrait. Perhaps, several years in the future, they would be able to display the portrait, but for now, she could not bear to look at it – it held too many unfortunate associations.


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On New Year’s Eve, Caroline spent the night at Jenny’s house, to give Jean and James some time to themselves. James had made a delicious dinner for him and his wife – steak au poivre, sweetbreads à la Milanese, a Caesar salad, and, for dessert, a mouth-watering German chocolate cake.

After dinner, Jean brought James up to their room, forcing him to wait outside while she changed into the nightgown James had bought her for Christmas. She took a few minutes to comb her hair before letting him into their bedroom. As soon as she opened the bedroom door, his eyes darkened and his trousers became tented.

“Oh, Jean; you look wonderful,” he breathed, striding towards her and taking her into his arms.

“Thank you, darling,” she said, smiling. “I thought that we could ring in the New Year in style.” She took his hand and led him over to the bed, unbuttoning his shirt as they moved towards it. He finished undressing himself as she settled herself on the bed, arranging her body in a seductive pose on top of the bedcovers. When he was completely nude, he took a moment to memorise the sight in front of him, before pulling his wife to her feet to undress her as well. She lifted her arms, allowing him to slip off her nightdress to reveal her naked body.

His breathing grew shallower as he walked around her, looking at her lissom form. He noticed that her breasts were already slightly rounder than they had been before her pregnancy, and her skin had a glow to it that was not previously there.

“Jean, you are so beautiful,” he said, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She tilted her head as James kissed the side of her neck, providing him with better access. He brought one hand up from her waist to fondle her breast, while the other hand slipped between her legs. She moaned as he slipped his fingers inside of her, her knees going weak as James continued to caress her.

He laid her on the bed, and she groaned in disappointment as he stepped away from her for a moment. Joining her on the bed, he lay on his side and pulled her towards him. She rotated her hips against his, pressing her pelvis against his erection.

“Oh, James,” she moaned as he lowered his head to her breast, beginning to suck on her nipple. Her hands gripped his back and she tightened her legs around his hips, trying to pull him closer to her. Finally he entered her, slowly guiding himself into her.

“I love you, Jean – I love you,” he moaned as he entered her. “I love you.”

She moaned as he continued to move within her, and he gripped her hips hard, pulling her towards him one final time before they both exploded with fire.


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After Christmas break came to a close, Jean, James, and Caroline returned to Marcia Blaine. Everyone had noticed the difference in Jean; everyone had noticed that she seemed to radiate happiness and contentment, though no one except James knew what to attribute the glow to. Jean was much more patient and caring towards all of her students, including Mary Macgregor, and she was even more than polite to Miss Mackay, Miss Gaunt, Teddy Lloyd, and Gordon Lowther, though she certainly did not seek out their company. Everything seemed to fall into place.

One night in late February, when Caroline was asleep and James was upstairs, a knock sound at her door. Jean was downstairs, fixing herself a cup of tea, and she shrugged into her dressing gown before answering the door. It was Teddy Lloyd.

“May I come in, Jean?” he asked her, shivering in his tweed coat. “It’s quite cold.” She stepped aside and wordlessly let him in. “Thank you,” he said, and she led him into the parlour. He sat down in an armchair close to the fire, and she sat on the sofa, as far away from him as she could get without leaving the room.

“Why are you here, Teddy?” she asked him.

He stood up and knelt at her feet. She laid a protective hand on her abdomen as he took her other hand.

“I need you, Jean,” he said, bringing her hand up to his face. “I do, my darling. I have not been able to live without you in my life. Please, Jean, come back to me,” he begged her.

She pulled her hand away from him, standing up from the couch. “It’s time for you to leave, Teddy,” she said. “My husband is waiting for me upstairs,” she told him. “I just came down for a cup of tea, and he’ll be sure to come down and look for me if I’m not back upstairs soon. Besides,” she continued, “Caroline is just upstairs as well.”

“I don’t care. I need you, Jean; I need you so much. You are my Muse – you are my inspiration. I need you, I do – please, Jean, come back to me,” he pleaded with her.

Jean began to panic as Teddy came closer to her. “Teddy, please don’t...” she trailed off as gripped her shoulders tightly, pulling her down to the couch. “Teddy, don’t...” she couldn’t continue as he pushed her against the cushions of the sofa, covering her lips with his. She tried to get free of him, but she couldn’t, as all of his weight was pinned on top of her.

“No, Teddy, don’t!” she cried as he pulled away her dressing gown and lifted up her nightdress. He stopped as he revealed her slightly protruding stomach.

“You’re pregnant?” he exclaimed in disgust. “With that bastard’s child?” He stood up, turning away from her, and she tugged down her nightdress before wrapping her dressing gown around her again.

“Teddy, please go,” she begged him.

He turned back to her, and gripped her shoulders again. “Tell me the truth, Jean – you owe me that much, at least. Are you pregnant?”

“I don’t owe you anything!” she shouted. “You are the one who chose your wife over me! And now, just because I married someone who loves me, someone who I love, you have to come in and ruin that! Yes, I am pregnant, Teddy – and neither James nor I could be happier!”

James, hearing the shouting, rushed down the stairs, just in time to see Teddy slap his wife as she finished her tirade against him. The force of the slap knocked her back, and James caught her just before she fell to the floor. She laid a hand on her cheek, looking at her former lover in shock. Her husband guided her over to the couch before standing and confronting Teddy Lloyd.

“How dare you,” he hissed, “How dare you hurt my wife.”

“She’s mine,” Teddy said, cocking his fists and preparing for a fight. “She is mine – I love her, and I won’t let you stand in the way.”

“Jean is not a possession – she is not something to be owned. She is her own person – she can choose who she wants to be with,” James declared.

“Then let’s ask her,” Teddy exclaimed, turning to Jean. “Who do you want, Jean?”

“James,” she replied without any hesitation. “I want James.”

Teddy’s face, which had held such an arrogant, self-confident expression, fell at Jean’s answer. “But, Jean...” he said, his voice faltering. “I love you.”

“Do you, Teddy?” she asked him. He nodded.

“I’m sorry, Teddy,” she said. “But you had your chance.”

James led Teddy to the door and watched as he walked away from their home, before returning to his wife’s side.

“I’m so sorry this happened, my dear,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed and leaned into his embrace. “Shall we go to bed?” he asked her. She looked up at him and nodded, allowing him to lead her up the stairs to their bedroom.


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Two weeks later, the term ended, and Jean officially retired from teaching. Almost everyone was stunned when Miss Mackay announced Jean’s retirement from teaching; all but Jean’s girls, Caroline, James, Jean herself, and Teddy Lloyd. Gordon Lowther confronted Jean after the announcement.

“Why are you leaving? Were you forced to resign?” he asked her, anxious to know why she was leaving the job she loved so much.

She laughed lightly. “No, it was my decision,” she told him, not willing to involve herself in a discussion with Gordon on her last day at Marcia Blaine.

“Did Miss Mackay force you to resign?” he questioned her, desperate to know the real answer.

“No, she did not,” Jean said. “It was my decision,” she said again, trying to walk away. He blocked her path.

“Why, Jean?” he asked her again. “Why are you leaving?”

She sighed, growing frustrated with him. “I’m pregnant, all right?” she said. He stood frozen in shock, and she pushed past him. When she was halfway down the hall, he ran after her.

“Jean!” he called, and she stopped, sighing as he rushed to catch up with her.

“What, Gordon?” she asked him, annoyed.

“Congratulations,” he told her, and her jaw dropped open.

“Thank you,” she said when she had regained her speaking ability.

“I could only wish that it was mine,” he said, before turning and walking away from her. She stood there in the corridor, staring after him, before she returned to her classroom to teach her final class of her career.

[Junora]

I knew it Teddy is such an *AWP* how could he nearly force himself on Jean.
Gordon on the other side was polite enough to congratulate more or less.

Wonderful chapter.

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Twelve: Visitors


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Jean did not take her retirement from teaching as badly as she expected to, perhaps because it was her choice to leave. Her days were now devoted to the child growing within her; her girls, her husband, and Caroline were still important to her, of course, but she and her child inhabited their own world.

Gordon Lowther and Teddy Lloyd did not take her absence from Marcia Blaine as easily. Both continued to try to win her back the best way they knew how: Gordon through music, Teddy through art.

Gordon wrote a song for her, called “Jean.” It became incredibly popular, playing on the radio frequently. Teddy painted portrait after portrait of her, which were met with popular acclaim; they visited every country in Europe. And in April, in England, Hugh Carruthers, who had not, after all, been killed on Flanders Field, but had lost an eye, quite nearly dying, saw the portraits of his fiancée and travelled to Edinburgh to reclaim her.

Not knowing where she lived, he had looked in the telephone directory to find her address; when he arrived at her flat, the tenant, a Miss Lockhart, had given him his fiancée’s new address. He took a taxi to her new home and stood outside the house, taking a deep breath, before he rang the doorbell. He heard quick footsteps approach, and Jean opened the door. She gasped when she saw him.

“Hu-hu-hugh?” she stammered before swaying on her feet. “It can’t be...” She swayed again, placing a hand on the side of the door frame to steady herself.

“Sweetheart?” her husband called from the kitchen. “Who’s there?” He entered the foyer, stopping when he saw Hugh.

“Hugh?” he asked, stepping closer. “Is that you?”

“James?” Hugh asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he said. “Hugh, I thought you were dead,” he continued.

“I’m obviously not,” he said.

“You’re not?” Jean asked in a wavering voice, before fainting, falling into her husband’s arms. James scooped her up and carried her into the parlour, laying her on one of the sofas. Hugh followed him, closing the front door before joining James in the parlour.

Hugh knelt on the floor next to Jean, taking her hand in his, holding her hand up to his cheek. As his gaze travelled over her body, taking in the sight of her, a sight that he had not seen for twenty years. His gaze stopped on her protruding stomach, and he dropped her hand, standing up abruptly.

“Is she – is she pregnant?” he asked James, who nodded.

“Hugh, why are you here?” he questioned him. “We thought you were dead. Neither of us has seen you nor heard from you in twenty years.”

“Why are you here?” he shot back. “Why are you here with Jean, with my fiancée? You knew how I felt about her – how I feel about her.”

Jean began to stir, and she opened her eyes. James helped her sit up, and she smiled up at him gratefully, before turning her gaze back to Hugh.

“What are you doing here, Hugh? Why are you here, now of all times? You let us think that you were dead for twenty years – twenty years, Hugh! Why are you here?”

“I saw the portraits, Jean,” he said. “It seemed like a sign, so I came here, to you.”

“What portraits?” she asked, confused.

“The portraits of you, painted by an artist named Lloyd,” he said.

“Lloyd? Teddy Lloyd?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“Yes, I believe so,” Hugh replied. She shook her head as though to banish that train of thought from her mind.

“But why did you let me think you were dead for twenty years?” Jean asked him.

He looked down at his hands. “I was almost dead – there were countless times when I was so close to death; I ended up losing my eye.”

“But why did you let me think you were dead?” she asked him again.

“I didn’t know if you would still want me after I lost my eye,” he admitted.

She stood up angrily. “Did you really think me to be so shallow? That I would only care about your appearance? I loved you so much, Hugh – I was willing to become your wife! And yet all you believed was that I would not want you anymore?” She clenched her fists to her sides, breathing heavily, and James gently guided her back to the couch.

“Calm down, darling; you don’t want to hurt the baby,” he said. She took a visibly deep breath and sagged against her husband’s shoulder.

“Wait – are you married to him?” he asked her, standing up and towering over them as they sat on the sofa. Jean squeezed her husband’s hand tighter.

“Yes,” she said simply.

“How could you, Jean? And how could you, James?” Hugh asked, wounded.

“How could I? You told me before you left that if you died, you wanted me to be happy. I found happiness with James, and he with me. Who are you to judge that? Especially as you let me think you were dead for twenty years!” she yelled.

James had stood up while his wife was yelling at her former fiancé, and went upstairs, taking the box of Jean’s old letters to Hugh out of his nightstand, bringing them back downstairs.

“I think that you should have these, Hugh,” James said, handing him the letters that Jean had written to him over twenty years ago.

“What’s this?” Hugh asked, not waiting for an answer, but opening the box. When he saw the contents, his face went pale. “How did you get these?”

“I took them, after you... well, after I heard you were dead, and kept them,” James explained.

“Thank you,” Hugh said stiffly. “I suppose I should go,” he continued. “Goodbye, Jean,” he said, kneeling at her feet, taking her hands in his. “I will always love you.” He brought her hands up to his lips, kissing them.

“Goodbye, Hugh,” she said, giving him a brief, tender kiss. “Goodbye.”

With one final, lingering look at his former fiancée, Hugh Carruthers left her house and returned to London, leaving his old life behind forever.


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When Caroline returned that evening from Jenny’s house, she found James and Jean to be strangely subdued, but they both refused to talk about it. Later that night, in the bath, Jean snuggled up to her husband.

“I love you, James – you know that, don’t you?” she said tenderly, holding his hands and looking into his eyes.

“You don’t wish that you married Hugh instead of me?” he asked her.

“Oh, James! No, I don’t. I was a different person twenty years ago; I changed after I thought that Hugh died. You are my life now, James, and I love you with all my heart.”

“As long as you are sure, Jean – if you want to go back to Hugh, I won’t stand in your way. I just want you to be happy, my love,” he said.

“Oh, James,” she said, her heart melting at his words. “I love you.” She kissed him passionately, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“And I love you,” he told her when they broke for air. “I love you so much.”

She smiled at him, pulling him in to a deeper kiss. He moved behind her, and he pulled her towards him, his erection pressing against her lower back. She tilted her head back so that his lips could catch hers, and she knelt in the tub, parting her legs in order for him to enter her.

“Oh, yes!” she cried, as his lips released hers and travelled down her collarbone. She gripped the sides of the bathtub tightly as he nipped at her shoulder; and as she moaned, her walls tightening around him, he began to come, thrusting within her.

“Oh, Jean, my one, my only!” he called out as he climaxed. She relaxed in his arms, limp, and sighed contentedly as he drained the bathtub before she reluctantly climbed out of the tub, taking a towel and drying herself, before donning a flannel nightgown and going to bed, her husband joining her. She fell asleep wrapped in her husband’s arms, warm and comfortable, content in the knowledge that he loved her.

[Junora]

OMG how could you?
Hugh?...
poor Jean, I don't want to even imagine it.

But nonetheless I LOVE this story.

Hugs Lottie

[KristaMarie]

I definitely didn't see that coming... WOW.

I can't even begin to imagine... Please update again ASAP!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Thirteen: Birth


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A/N: "The Young May Moon" was written by Thomas Moore.


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It was near the middle of June when school let out for the summer. Jean attended the closing ceremony, and she was once more confronted by Teddy Lloyd.

“Hello, Jean,” Teddy said. He had approached her as she was entering the assembly hall, and pulled her aside into the women’s bathroom, just as he had done three years ago. As soon as the door closed, he pulled her into a kiss, and she tried to push him away. He held her all the tighter to him. “Jean, I need you – I need you,” he said, and she was struck with a sense of déjà vu.

“Teddy, no!” she cried, finally pushing him away.

“I’ve left my wife, Jean,” he continued, ignoring her outburst and grabbing her again. “I’ve left my wife and applied for an annulment. I need you, I want you, I love you – please, Jean, come back to me.” He knelt at her feet, holding her hands in his. “Please, Jean,” he begged her.

She wrenched her hands away from him and stumbled towards the door. She managed to exit the bathroom and fall right into her husband’s arms. Teddy threw open the bathroom door, shouting her name.

“Jean!” he cried. “Please, Jean,” he begged her. “Please.”

“Ah!” she cried out, clutching her husband’s arms tightly as a sharp pain hit her. A few moments later, it became clear that her water had broken. “Oh, no,” she whimpered, before swaying on her feet. "It's too soon," she moaned. "Too soon!"

“Jean, sweetheart, hold on,” James said as he wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her towards the door. “It’ll be all right,” he continued. “You’ll be fine.” As he half-carried her to the door, they ran into Miss Mackay.

“Miss Mackay,” James said, ignoring the stunned look on her face when she saw that her former nemesis was in labour. “Could you please tell Caroline that she should stay with Jenny tonight? I’ll collect her later.” Miss Mackay snapped back to her professional mode and nodded. “Thank you,” he said, and they left the school building, James helping Jean into the car. He drove her to the hospital, and helped her out of the car when they arrived.

Jean was taken into the maternity ward immediately, and, though she wanted James to stay with her, the doctor refused to allow it. So James was forced to stay in the waiting room. Hours ticked by, and James smoked cigarette after cigarette. Finally, after eighteen hours, on June 15th, the doctor emerged from the delivery room.

“Congratulations, Mr. Azhar,” he said. “You have a healthy daughter.” James’s tired face broke out into a smile.

“How is my wife?” he asked.

“She is fine. You can see her now, if you’d like,” the doctor said. James nodded. “Right this way.”

James followed the doctor down the hall to Jean’s room, and he entered, kneeling down next to the bed. Her face was tired but radiant, and she was holding their daughter in her arms.

“I love you, Jean,” James said, kissing her lightly, before turning to their daughter. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered in awe, as his daughter opened her eyes, looking at him. She had beautiful big blue eyes, a downy head of beautiful dark brown hair, and long eyelashes.

“She is, isn’t she?” Jean replied, cradling their daughter gently. “Would you like to hold her?” she asked.

“Oh, yes!” James exclaimed. He took his daughter in his arms gently, holding her to his chest. He traced her features with a tender finger. “She’s wonderful,” he whispered. “What should we call her?” he asked.

“Margaret, after my mother; and Judith, after your mother,” Jean replied. James smiled.

“That sounds perfect, my darling,” he said. “Margaret Judith Brodie Azhar.”

She began to whimper slightly, and James handed her back to Jean. “I think that she’s hungry,” he said, and she nodded, opening her robe to bare her breast. Their daughter began to suck hungrily, and Jean winced as she adjusted to her daughter sucking on her nipple. It was slightly uncomfortable at first, but she soon adjusted. James smiled down at the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, and she smiled back at him.

After their daughter finished feeding, she drifted off to sleep. “I love you,” Jean whispered to James. He laid a gentle hand on top of his daughter’s head.

“And I love you – I love you both.”


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Three days later Jean returned home – her husband, her girls, and Caroline had arranged the nursery and prepared everything for Jean and Margaret’s homecoming. James had bought pink and white sheets for the crib, and the girls had arranged the clothes and toys for Margaret. Luckily, their bedroom had the nursery connected to it, so that Jean and James could keep the door in between the rooms open, to hear if their daughter cried. For the time being, though, Margaret would sleep in a bassinet in their room.

That night, Jean had put Margaret to bed after feeding her. She and James stood there, watching their daughter sleep.

“She’s so perfect,” Jean whispered in amazement. “How did we ever produce such a perfect child?”

“I don’t know how I did, but you, my darling, are perfection itself,” James said, kissing the back of her neck.

“I love you, James,” she said. “We are so lucky – so lucky,” she continued, “How can we be so blessed?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said. “But I am so grateful for it.”

She smiled at him, kissing him lightly on the lips. “Let’s go to bed, my dearest,” she said, and he nodded, joining her in their bed, holding her to him.

“Good night, James, darling,” she said, kissing him again. “I love you.”

“Good night, Jean,” he replied. “I love you, too.” They slept, curled up together.

A few hours later, Margaret’s crying woke Jean up. She stumbled out of bed, turning on the bedside light, and walked over to the crib, picking her daughter up. “Shh, my darling,” she crooned. “It’s all right, my sweet,” she said as she walked over to the rocking chair. She sat down, still rocking her daughter gently back and forth, and opened her nightgown, allowing her daughter to begin to suckle. When she was finished, Jean burped her, and once more began to rock her gently, singing quietly.

“Oh, the young May moon is beaming, love,
The glow-worm’s lamp is gleaming, love;
How sweet to rove
Through Morna’s grove
When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!
Then awake! – the heavens look bright, my dear,
’Tis never too late for delight, my dear;
And the best of all ways
To lengthen our days
Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!

Now all the world is sleeping, love,
But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love,
And I, whose star
More glorious far
Is the eye from that casement peeping, love.

Then awake! – till the rise of sun, my dear,
The Sage’s glass we’ll shun, my dear,
Or in watching the flight
Of bodies of light
He might happen to take thee for one, my dear!”

When she finished the song, her daughter was asleep, and she brought her back to the crib, laying her down gently. When she turned around, she saw her husband sitting up in bed, smiling. She returned his smile, curling up in his arms.

“You are an absolute Madonna, my darling; such a wonderful mother,” he whispered. She smiled at him.

“And you are a wonderful father,” she said, kissing him, before yawning. “We’d best get back to sleep,” she told him, and he nodded as she snuggled into his warmth, dropping off immediately.

[Junora]

Wonderful, except the part with Teddy, I thought for a second or two, that she'll lose the baby.
But no, now they have a beautiful baby-girl. *sigh*

Love it.
Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Fourteen: Another Birthday


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July seventh was James’s birthday; Caroline and Jean had baked a cake, and Jean prepared a special dinner that included all of his favourite foods: wild pheasant, a freshly-baked baguette, a garden salad; and, for dessert, a fruit tart. After helping Jean with the dinner, Caroline and Margaret were picked up by James’s mother, who was staying in Edinburgh for a while to help Jean with the baby.


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Later that evening, Jean and James sat down to the delicious supper they had made for James, thoroughly enjoying their first time alone since Margaret was born. After dinner, Jean brought him into the parlour, where she cranked the gramophone, playing a record of “Falling in Love Again”, the song that they had danced to at their wedding.

“May I have this dance?” he asked her, bowing.

“Of course,” she smiled.

He twirled her around the room, quietly singing along to the tune.

When the song was over, she led him to the couch. “Close your eyes, darling,” she told him. He did as she asked, and she quickly shed her clothes, revealing a new white negligee. “All right, James,” she said, “You can open your eyes.” He did, and gasped when he was her standing in front of him.

“Is this my present?” he asked her, his eyes growing darker and his trousers becoming tented. She smiled, turning slowly so that he could get the full effect. He stood, placing his hands on her waist. “As much as I like seeing you in your new lingerie,” he began, “I believe that I’d like it even more if I could see that lingerie on the floor.” He smiled as she shrugged out of the flimsy garment.

Her body had changed since her pregnancy. Her breasts were slightly larger, her nipples were now a rich red instead of the pale pink they had been, her curves were softer. Despite her slight weight gain and her stretch marks, he still thought that she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and he told her so.

“Thank you, James,” she said, blushing slightly. “But,” she continued briskly, “I believe that you are overdressed for this celebration.” She grinned naughtily at him as she trailed a finger along the bulge in his trousers. He took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes closing in rapture. She began to unfasten his trousers, and he unbuttoned his shirt. When his trousers had pooled around his ankles, he kicked them off, and she finished unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it on the ground behind him.

She pushed him back against the couch, encouraging him to lie back against the arm of the couch. She straddled his legs, bending her head and taking his erection into her mouth. He moaned as she drew her tongue along his length, swallowing around him as she took him fully into her mouth.

“Jean,” he groaned; a deep, guttural sound. She smiled as she felt his balls tighten, knowing that he was near his release, so she released him from her mouth. He moaned in disappointment when she released him – he was so close, so close... but then she took his erection in hand and, one hand on his shoulder, she lowered herself onto him.

“Jean!” he cried as she rotated her hips against his, squeezing her muscles around him. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her down on top of him, again and again. “Jean, Jean, Jean,” he moaned.

“Oh, God, James, I love you, I love you!” she cried as they began to come simultaneously.

“Jean!” he cried out again, pulling her down once more on top of him. She collapsed against him, burying her head against the side of his neck. He brought one hand to the back of her head, holding her close.

“Oh, Jean,” he said. “I love you.”

She kissed the side of his neck. “I love you, too,” she replied. “I hope that you had the best birthday ever,” she told him.

“I did, my love,” he said. “I did.” He carried her up to their bedroom and they stretched out on the bed together.

As she lay in the bed with her husband, she pressed her body against him, smiling as she felt his penis grow hard against her abdomen.

“I want you again, Jean,” he whispered, pulling her flush against him. “I want you again.”

“And I want you, James,” she said. “I want you; always, forever.” She threw one leg over his hips and moaned as he entered her again. “Ah!” she cried out as he began to thrust within her. “Ah, James!” she cried out again. “I love you, love you, love you!” she cried.

“Sweetheart!” he cried, pushing into her one more time.

She wrapped her arms around him and held him to her tightly. “I love you, James.”

“I love you, Jean,” he replied. “I love you. This has been the most wonderful birthday of my life,” he continued. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her lightly. “I love you.” She curled into his embrace and they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.


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In the middle of the night, James woke up from a very arousing dream. He looked down at his wife, who was sleeping, and he remembered a time, several months ago, when he had woke up to Jean making love to him, and he decided to wake her up in the same manner. He began to caress her breasts with one hand, while his other hand began to rub her clitoris. She began to grow wet, and she moaned in her sleep, her legs parting.

She woke up as he guided himself into her. “James,” she moaned, waking up. “Oh, James!”

“Jean!” He thrust into her once more as she came, and he followed a few seconds later. As they lay together in bed, Jean turned to him and smiled.

“That was a wonderful way to be woken up in the middle of night, my darling,” she said. He bent his head and kissed her.

“I’m glad that you thought so,” James said. “I promised you that I’d wake you up like that,” he said, “so I’m glad that you enjoyed it as much as I did when you woke me up like that.”

“Oh, I did,” she said. “I did.”


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The next morning, Jean and James woke early and straightened up the downstairs of the house before his mother stopped by to bring Caroline and Margaret back home.

“Did you have a good birthday, my dear?” his mother asked.

“Oh, yes,” he said, smiling at his wife, who was sitting down with Caroline on the couch, cradling their daughter. “It was wonderful.”

“I’m glad, my dear,” she replied. “Now,” she began, walking over to the couch and sitting down next to Jean and her granddaughter, “Your father and I have a present for you as well.” His mother pulled out an envelope from her pocketbook and handed it to him. “Happy birthday!”

James opened the envelope, revealing a letter from his father. He began to read it aloud. “Dear James, your mother and I have purchased a house in Cairo for you and your family – we have arranged for servants as well. Happy birthday, son! All our love, your parents.” He turned the page and found a drawing of their new house.

“Oh, my goodness!” Jean exclaimed, looking over his shoulder. The house seemed large and spacious – it was two storeys tall, had a large, shaded verandah, and was surrounded by a wall to keep people out. The sketch showed a beautiful garden and a swimming pool.

“Thank you, mother,” James said sincerely, giving her a hug.

“We’ve also purchased tickets for you, Jean, Margaret, and Caroline on a plane leaving next week,” his mother said.

“Thank you, Judith,” Jean said. “It will be nice to return to Egypt. But what about Caroline’s schooling and James’s job?” she asked.

“We can use it as a vacation home, darling,” James told her. “Though Egypt is hot in the summer, our house looks as though it will be quite comfortable despite the heat.”

“Well, then,” Jean said, smiling. “I suppose that we’d best begin packing.”

[Junora]

oh wonderful, love it.
Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Fifteen: Egypt Again


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Jean had her girls over to tea two days after James’s birthday, and she told them that she, James, Caroline, and Margaret were going to Egypt for the rest of the summer. They were very excited, and, when Jean showed them the sketch of their new house, were very pleased for her and Caroline.

Later that day, Jean took Caroline and Margaret went out shopping for appropriate clothes for Egypt. Jean bought quite a lot of clothes for the three of them: dresses, bathing suits, hats, shoes – everything, really. She also purchased some things for her husband, and a few new suitcases, so that she could pack Margaret’s things with hers.

When they returned from their shopping trip, Jean found James on the telephone.

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. McGillicuddy,” he said. “That will be wonderful. Yes, next week, starting on Monday. Goodbye,” he said, and hung up the telephone.

“Hello, dear,” Jean said affectionately, giving him a light kiss on the lips.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he replied, and bent down to kiss their daughter lightly on the forehead. “Hello, Margaret,” he said, taking his daughter from his wife and cradling her gently.

“Who was on the telephone, darling?” she asked curiously.

“My Aunt Lillian’s housekeeper. She’s going to look after the house while we’re in Egypt.”

“Ah,” Jean said. “I hadn’t even thought about that. Should we also tell Miss Lockhart that we will be gone?” she asked him.

“I already have, my dear – I do believe that we are all set for our trip,” he said, smiling.

“I’m very glad,” she said, smiling.


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Three days later, they packed their clothes and got ready to fly to Egypt. Their flight left at six o’clock in the morning. They flew first class; James sat next to Jean, who held Margaret, while Caroline and Judith sat across the aisle from them. From time to time during that ten-hour flight, Judith and James switched seats, so that Judith could give James and Jean a break and hold Margaret.

When they arrived in Cairo, James’s oldest brother Alexander met them at the airport and drove them to their new house. Luckily for James and Jean, James’s parents lived less than a mile away, so they would be able to help out with Margaret. Judith would be helping them settle into their new house, so Alexander drove them there.

There were tall, sandstone walls surrounding the house. As they drove up to the gates, a man in the gatehouse pulled up on a rope, allowing the gates to open and allowing them to drive through. As they passed under the gates, Jean and Caroline gasped in awe. The house was even nicer than it seemed in the sketch: the gardens were beautiful, filled with lush palm trees and hibiscus flowers; the swimming pool was a beautiful, deep blue; the verandah was large and spacious.

Alexander pulled up in front of the house, and James opened the car door for his wife, cousin, mother, and daughter.

“It’s magnificent!” Jean exclaimed when she had exited the car and saw the house for the first time. “Thank you, Judith!” she said.

“Yes, thank you, Mother!” James said. He bent down and gave her a peck on the cheek. They walked up the steps to the verandah and James opened the door.

“Caroline dear, will you hold Margaret for a moment, please?” James asked her, and she nodded, taking her cousin from Jean. Once Jean’s hands were free, James scooped his wife up in his arms and carried her over the threshold, kissing her lightly. She laughed as he swung her around in a circle.

Caroline, Judith, Alexander, and Margaret followed them in to the house. James set his wife down on her feet, and she took her daughter from Caroline’s arms. Judith went to the wall near the stairs and pressed a small button. A few moments later, a man and three women entered the house.

“Jean, James, Caroline,” Judith said, “This is Dahlia, Sara, Leila, and Essam,” she introduced each of the people in turn. “Jean, Dahlia will help you with Margaret,” Judith said. “Sara is the cook, and Leila will be in charge of the housekeeping; Essam is the gardener.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Jean said, nodding at each of the servants in turn. They nodded back.

“Essam, could you bring the bags up to the rooms, please?” James asked. He nodded, and walked outside to get the bags from the boot of the car.

“Now, would you like a tour?” Judith asked. Jean, Caroline, and James nodded. “All right,” Judith said, leading them from the foyer to the parlour.

“This is the parlour,” Judith indicated the spacious room behind her. She led them into the next room, the dining room, then the kitchen, and then the upstairs. She first showed them the nursery, then Jean and James’s bedroom, then the two guest rooms, and finally Caroline’s bedroom. Caroline’s bedroom and James and Jean’s bedroom had their own bathroom; there were two more bathrooms; one downstairs and another upstairs. All the bedrooms had an entrance to the large, wrap-around verandah.

“This is such a beautiful house, Judith!” Jean exclaimed. “I love it!”

“Me too, Aunt Judith,” Caroline chimed in. “It’s so pretty.”

Judith smiled at her niece and her daughter-in-law.

“Why don’t you all have dinner before retiring early? We’ve had a long day of travelling, and I’m sure you all are tired – I know that I most certainly am!” Judith laughed.

“All right, mother,” James said. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yes; your father and I are busy during the day, but we will see you at supper. Have a good night!” she said, kissing first her son’s cheek, then her niece’s, then her daughter-in-law’s, before giving her granddaughter a light kiss on her forehead.


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They had a light supper that night: a salad, some pita bread, and some chicken. None of them were very hungry; they were all quite tired, especially Margaret, who had fallen asleep before her parents had finished eating dinner. Jean brought her upstairs and tucked her into the bassinet by the base of their bed, before opening her dresser drawers and changing into a nightgown. She slipped between the covers and fell asleep even before her husband had finished his supper.


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The next morning, Jean and James were woken up early by their daughter crying. Jean rushed to her side, picking her up out of the crib and began to feed her. Soon, Margaret had stopped fussing and was fast asleep again. Jean and James, however, were wide awake.

They walked out onto the verandah, keeping the French doors open so they could hear if Margaret woke up again, and stood at the railing, looking out at Cairo. It was the time just before dawn, and they watched the bright sun rise from the east, seeing it light up the desert.

“It’s so beautiful,” Jean said in awe, breaking the silence that had stolen over them.

Her husband looked at her, tilting her chin up with a gentle finger. “Not nearly as beautiful as you are, my love,” he said, bending down and kissing her tenderly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, equally tender, and then laid her head on his chest to watch the rest of the sunrise.

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Sixteen: Egyptian Summer


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A/N: Kind of hit a rut with this story - I'm not sure where it's going, nor do I have any ideas at the moment. If you have any ideas, PLEASE let me know! Thank you!


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Caroline and James were splashing in the pool as Jean sat under the verandah with Margaret. It was quite comfortable in the shade, as there was a light breeze blowing which ruffled her daughter’s hair. Jean sipped some lemonade and stroked her daughter’s hair. Margaret stirred in her sleep, and turned closer to Jean’s chest from her position in her mother’s arms. Jean smiled down at her daughter and allowed herself to fall into a light doze.

She woke up when someone lifted her daughter out of her arms; she opened her eyes and looked up to see her husband cradling their daughter, who was now awake. She was giggling as he held her high above his head, making funny faces. Jean smiled at them; she loved her family so much.


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Later in the day, Judith and Salah arrived for dinner. They had salmon, pita bread, falafel, and a salad, as well as pineapple. After dinner, Jean brought Margaret upstairs, and tucked her in for the night, before rejoining her in-laws.

“How do you like the house, Jean?” Salah asked her.

“It’s marvellous,” she said. “It’s just perfect.”

“It is perfect,” James agreed, placing his hand over his wife’s. She smiled at him.

“So, perhaps you will decide to settle here permanently?” Judith asked her son and his wife hopefully.

Jean and James exchanged a glance. “Well, perhaps once Caroline finishes at Marcia Blaine,” Jean said.

“But we will most definitely spend our summers and winters here,” James finished.

His parents exchanged a smile. “Good,” Salah said.

“It will be good to have all of my boys here again,” Judith gushed. James smiled, embarrassed. Jean noticed his discomfiture and squeezed his hand lightly, giving him a reassuring smile.

The maid came in to clear away the dishes, breaking the tension. They retired to the parlour for dessert, as the sun had set and it was getting quite buggy outside.

Later that evening, when James’s parents had left and Caroline was in bed, Jean and James talked about relocating to Egypt.

“I do love this country, my dear, but I would miss my girls too much to leave Edinburgh right now,” she confessed.

“And we should not uproot Caroline from Marcia Blaine. Perhaps we can move here in four years, when she finishes school,” James suggested.

“All right,” Jean replied. Just then, their daughter began to fuss, and Jean picked her up, rocking her gently back and forth. She soon settled down, and Jean laid her back in her crib. Turning back to her husband, she was startled to see that his eyes were dark with desire.

“James?” she asked, stepping closer to him.

He took her hand and led her into their bathroom, closing the door and pressing her against it. “You are so beautiful, Jean,” he said, breathing heavily as he looked at her.

She smiled coyly, bringing her hands up to the neckline of her frock and beginning to unbutton her dress, revealing the lacy cups of her brassiere. His breathing grew heavier as she allowed her dress to drop to the floor, kicking it away from her. He began to undress himself, and soon they were both nude.

“James!” she moaned, pulling him closer to her, wrapping one leg around his hips and opening herself up further to him.

His moans were muffled as he kissed her, and she gripped his shoulders tightly as she began to come. He pushed her against the wall as he continued to drive into her, resting his head against her shoulder as he came. They collapsed in a heap on the floor of the bathroom.

“God, I love you, James,” she whispered.

He nuzzled the side of her neck. “I love you, my darling,” he replied. With a sigh, he pulled out of her and stood up, helping her to her feet before they picked up their clothes and re-entered their bedroom. Jean slipped into a nightgown, and James got dressed in pyjamas before they slid beneath the covers of their bed, falling asleep.


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The next day, Jean and James left Margaret with Dahlia, her nurse, and took Caroline to the Cairo market. James and Jean bought a few things for Caroline’s birthday the next day. Jean had already asked Sara, the cook, to bake a cake for Caroline and to make her favourite meal: crabs, spaghetti, and a Caesar salad. James and Jean bought Caroline a mother-of-pearl jewellery box, a string of lapis lazuli beads like the ones that Jean had bought last year, and a blue silk dress.

Later that evening, they wrapped Caroline’s presents and put them on her place at the dining room table. After they finished wrapping Caroline’s presents, Jean took Margaret back from Dahlia and brought her upstairs, tucking her in for the night. Afterwards, Jean sat down at her desk and made a birthday card for Caroline. “Happy birthday, my dear,” she wrote. “All of our love; James, Jean, and Margaret.” Jean went downstairs and placed the card on top of Caroline’s presents, before going to bed.


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The next day, Caroline came downstairs and was greeted by James, Jean, and Margaret, as well as a sizable pile of presents on her place.

“Happy birthday!” Jean and James said as she stood there, stunned.

“Oh, James, Jean, thank you!” she exclaimed.

“Open your presents, my dear!” Jean told her.

Caroline nodded and sat down at her seat, pulling her presents to her. She opened her card first, and read it aloud. “Happy birthday, my dear,” she read. “All of our love; James, Jean, and Margaret.” She looked up from the card. “Thank you!”

“Open your presents, dear,” Jean urged her. Caroline nodded again, and opened the first present, the mother-of-pearl jewellery box.

“It’s beautiful,” she said in awe, opening it and admiring the craftsmanship. She stroked the red velvet interior of the box, before setting it aside and picking up the next present. She unwrapped it, revealing the string of lapis lazuli beads. She admired the cut of the stones and the colour of them, setting them in the jewellery box as she opened her final present.

“Oh, my goodness!” Caroline exclaimed as she revealed the dark blue silk dress. She held it up to her, taking a few dancing steps around the room. “It’s perfect!”

“I’m so glad that you like your presents, dear,” James said.

“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed. “Of course I do! Thank you so much,” she said, giving Jean and James a kiss on their cheeks, and they returned the kiss.

“Whatever you want to do today, just let us know, dear,” Jean told her.

“Well, I would really just like to relax today,” Caroline admitted. “Perhaps go for a dip in the pool.”

“All right, dear,” Jean said. “Would you like some breakfast? Perhaps by the pool?”

“That would be lovely, Jean,” Caroline said. “May I have some Belgian waffles? And some mango juice?”

“Of course, Caroline,” Jean said. “I’ll have it sent out to you when it’s ready.” She pressed the bell on the side of the wall and Sara came in. James ordered Belgian waffles and mango juice for all three of them, to be delivered at the pool. Jean rang the bell twice more, and Dahlia came in. Jean handed her daughter to the nurse, and went upstairs with her husband to change into their bathing suits, and joined Caroline at the pool.