A Teacher or a Leader?

[dianahawthorne]

A Teacher or a Leader?


Rating: M
Chapter One
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Disclaimer: I don't own "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie". Much of the dialogue in the story is taken from the movie. I don't own the song "It's Been a Long, Long Time" either.
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Teddy Lloyd saw his former lover across the room, and a plan formed in his mind. Smiling, he made his way to the punch bowl, taking two cups. He walked over to Jean Brodie, who was standing amongst some of her former students.

“Would you like some punch, Miss Brodie?” he asked her.

“Oh, Mr. Lloyd!” she exclaimed, taking the cup from his hand. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Her girls scattered, and Teddy stood beside her.

“Well, Jean, how’s the Franco fund coming along?” he asked her as she took a sip of her punch.

“Mm! Not well. Popular sentiment being what it is, one can hardly plead the cause in the Marcia Blaine assembly hall.”

He smirked. “Yes, I dare say. I, too, am attempting to raise funds for a worthy cause,” he told her.

“You?” she laughed. “What sort of cause?”

“A romantic one,” he told her. “I am taking up a collection to buy a wedding present… for Lowther and Miss Lockhart.” She froze. “May I put you down for a pound? It’s to be a simple affair in Cramond Kirk a week on Saturday. I’m told when they announced their intention to Miss MacKay last evening, her delight was so profound that she ran amok and toasted them in neat whiskey.” She fled from him, running into the garden. He followed her.

“Ah, Miss Brodie!” Mr. Burrage, a member of the Board of Governors, called out to her.

“Oh, good evening, Mr. Burrage, girls,” she said, approaching them.

“Good evening, Miss Brodie,” the girls chimed.

“I’ve not seen you dancing yet,” Mr. Burrage said.

“Oh, the night is young, Mr. Burrage,” she told him. Teddy approached her. “Excuse me for one moment.” She followed Teddy deeper into the garden.

“Teddy… Teddy, who told you to come to me like that?” she asked him desperately.

“I volunteered,” he said. “‘I,’ said the sparrow, ‘with my bow and arrow.’ I volunteered.”

“And what kill, pray, did you expect to make?” she spat the question out. “Do you think I cannot, with one snap of my fingers, send poor Miss Lockhart,” she sneered her name, “back to her gaseous domain? It was I who encouraged Mr. Lowther in his reluctant pursuit of Miss Lockhart,” she said, and he could tell that she was trying to convince herself of that even as she tried to convince him. “What I cannot understand is you. I cannot understand you,” she told him. “Malice. Coming to me that way, hoping to hurt and humiliate me… why?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. It’s what I wanted, to hurt you,” he told her.

“Why?” she asked him desperately. “Why are you so angry with me?”

“Because I’m afraid,” he admitted. “Because I don’t feel safe with you around. You should have married old Lowther, you really should. I’m forty-three years old, Jean. How old are you?” he asked her.

“I’m – I’m in my prime,” she replied.

“Your prime!” he laughed. “Look at yourself, Jean,” he said, pointing at her. “Look at me – a second-rate painter running to seed. You’re not in your prime, Jean,” he told her.

“Teddy, don’t…” she entreated as he ripped the gauzy veil of romance that shrouded her perception of the world to shreds. He ignored her plea.

“You’re a frustrated spinster taking it out in idiot causes and dangerous ideas. A schoolmarm,” he spat out the worst insult he could think of, an insult that was entirely true.

“I am a teacher,” she defended herself, albeit weakly.

“A teacher or a leader?” he asked her. “The dangerous Miss Brodie and her troops,” he said, smiling sadly. “Well, where you lead I cannot follow,” he told her.

She turned away from him, tears trickling down her face. With only a few words, he had altered her entire outlook on the world, had changed it irrevocably, made her realise how alone she was. She stepped behind a tree, hiding herself from the other people milling about the garden, and sunk to the ground, beginning to cry harder. He knelt next to her.

“You don’t always have to lead, Jean,” he told her, overcome with remorse for the harsh words he had said.

She looked up at him. “But who will lead if I don’t?” she asked him through her tears.

“I will,” he said. “I will lead, and I promise that I will never let you regret it.”

“All right,” she replied, smiling tentatively up at him, even as tears still fell down her face.

“I love you, Jean,” he whispered, wiping away her tears. “I’ll never let anything harm you again.” He took her hand, and she entwined her fingers with his.

“I love you, Teddy,” she said, her face brightening as she realised that while he had destroyed her world, he had brought her into his own. She was no longer alone.

He stood up, pulling her to her feet. “Would you like to dance?” he asked her, smiling down at her.

“Oh, yes,” she replied, and he took her hand and led her back into the hall.

Miss MacKay watched them dance disapprovingly, though she held her tongue. Come Monday, Jean Brodie would no longer be a teacher at Marcia Blaine, and that was a more than satisfying revenge.

Although Teddy and Jean wanted to dance together for the rest of the party, they did not want Miss MacKay to suspect anything, so Teddy danced with Jenny and Monica (Sandy refused to dance with him), as well as Miss Lockhart, while Jean danced twice with Mr. Burrage and once with Gordon Lowther, much to her chagrin.

“I hear I must congratulate you on your engagement to Miss Lockhart,” Jean told him.

He had enough courtesy to flush embarrassedly.

“Ye-yes,” he stuttered. “I didn’t tell you, Jean, because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She laughed humourlessly. “Well, you have hurt me,” she told him. “You used me, Gordon!” she accused him.

He flushed again. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as the song ended.

“As am I,” she replied, walking away from him, headed towards Teddy and Miss Lockhart.

“Congratulations, Miss Lockhart,” Jean told her stiffly.

“Thank you, Miss Brodie,” the chemistry teacher said, beaming at her. She excused herself to go join her fiancé.

As the music began to play again, Teddy bowed to Jean.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?” he asked her, and she nodded, smiling. He took her in his arms, and they danced. When the song ended, Miss MacKay stood up and announced that the next song would be the last one. The song began to play – it was “It’s Been a Long, Long Time.”

“Very appropriate song for us, isn’t it, Jean?” he asked her.

“Quite,” she replied, closing her eyes to relish the feeling of being in his arms once more. He began to croon the words to the song in her ear.

“Kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again.
It's been a long, long time.
Haven't felt like this, my dear
Since I can't remember when.
It's been a long, long time

You'll never know how many dreams
I've dreamed about you.
Or just how empty they all
seemed without you.
So kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again.
It's been a long, long time.

Ah, kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again.
It's been a long time.
Haven't felt like this my dear
Since I can't remember when
It's been a long, long time.

You'll never know how many dreams
I dreamed about you.
Or just how empty they all
seemed without you.
So kiss me once then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again.
It's been a long, long time.
Long, long time.”

When the song ended, Jean said goodbye to her girls and gathered her shawl. She met Teddy at the gate.

“Will you come to the studio with me, Jean?” he asked. “I want you to see your portrait after so many years.”

“All right,” she acquiesced, and they began to walk to his studio, arm in arm.

Before they had got very far, however, he stopped and turned to her. “Jean, I have to tell you something,” he said. She urged him to continue. “I slept with Sandy.”

Her hand flew to her breast. “But... Jenny...” Jean trailed off.

“I was trying to find a substitute for you amongst your girls, Jean, as you wanted me to do. But while you were pushing me towards Jenny, who does look more like you, I chose Sandy because she IS more like you; acts like you, thinks like you – but it was not enough for me. No one can compare to you, Jean – you are all that I want, all that I need,” he said.

“Is it over with her?” she asked him.

“Yes, she ended it. She was jealous of my love for you, Jean – even the portrait I painted of her is really a portrait of you.”

“Thank you for telling me, Teddy,” she said. “Am I still allowed to see my portrait?”

He smiled at her. “Of course,” he said, and they resumed the walk to his studio.

Jean was glad that Teddy had been honest with her – it showed that he loved her, because he did not want an illicit tryst to ruin their relationship. And she could not be angry with him – she had been pushing him towards one of her girls for a long time, and she would not be a hypocrite and be angry with him.

“We’re here, Jean,” Teddy said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He opened the front door and brought her up to his studio.

His studio was just the way she had remembered it, with one change. Her portrait was framed and hung on the wall. She tentatively stepped closer.

“It’s perfect, Teddy,” Jean breathed.

“It’s the best work I’ve ever done,” he said proudly, beaming as she smiled at him.

“Can I see the portraits of my girls?” she asked him curiously. He nodded, leading her over to a stack of paintings. There were several paintings of Jenny, a portrait of Monica, and one of Sandy. And all the portraits did indeed look like her.

“I love you, Jean,” he said, kneeling at her feet.

“And I love you, Teddy,” she replied, pulling him up off his knees. She took his hands in hers and encouraged him to embrace her. Stretching up to kiss him, she began to step back to the bed even as their tongues danced with each other. She fell back onto the bed, and he released her from his embrace so that he could undress. She pulled off her knickers and threw them to the ground before unfastening her dress and shimmying out of it.

Finally naked, he sat on the edge of the narrow bed he kept in his studio and reached out, caressing first her cheek, then her neck, breasts, stomach, hips... she parted her legs for him and he slipped a finger into her. Her breathing began to come in gasps, and he grew more aroused as he watched her writhe with pleasure. She began to come as he slipped another finger inside of her. He lowered his mouth to her breasts and began to tease her nipple with his tongue.

When she had drifted down from her climax, Teddy withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth, tasting her juices, grinning impishly as she watched him.

“You are such a naughty boy, Teddy!” she exclaimed, and his grin grew wider.

“Would you like to be naughty with me?” he asked her.

She nodded, her eyes growing darker as she rolled him onto his back and straddled his legs. Giving him one last smile, she took her penis into her mouth, running her tongue around the head, one hand giving his balls a gentle massage.

He groaned, a deep, primal sound, and allowed her to continue until he was on the brink of orgasm, when he pulled her up.

“Now, Teddy?” she asked him, positioning herself so that his cock was pressing against her entrance. He nodded, and she let herself sink down onto him. “Aah, yes!” she cried out as he filled her completely.

“Jean!” he shouted her name as she rode him. She began to come again, and he rolled her onto her back, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his hips. He continued to thrust in her, prolonging her orgasm. He finally climaxed when she peaked for a third time, collapsing on top of her.

“Oh, Teddy, how could ever have lived without you?” she whispered in his ear as they lay together in bed.

“When you were not with me, Jean, I was not living – I was just going through the motions of life. But it was not living – only when I am with you am I living.”

She smiled up at him despite the tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m so sorry for denying my love for you for so many years,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, Jean darling, it’s all right,” he soothed her. “We are together now, my dearest, and everything will work out for the best,” he said.

“How, though? You are still married,” she said.

“I promise that I’ll try to find a way to divorce Deirdre,” he said. “I never want to give you a reason to leave me again.”

“Even if we can’t find a way, I promise that I’ll never leave you again,” she told him.

“I’m glad of that, Jean – I could not survive if you left me again,” he said seriously.

She snuggled up to him, yawning.

“Tired?” he asked her, stroking her hair. She nodded. “Then let’s go to sleep, my love,” he said. She nodded again, stretching up to give him a kiss. He returned it, and then pulled the blankets up over them.

“I love you, Teddy,” she said.

“And I love you, Jean – I love you.”

[tabbyminerva]

Aw that was really sweet. Good job, dear

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Two


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The next morning, Jean woke up first, and looked at her lover’s face. Teddy looked so peaceful when he was sleeping; he looked so much younger and serene. She smiled at him as she stroked his thick, dark brown hair out of his eyes. He sighed, pulling her closer to him, still asleep. She felt his erection pressing against her thigh, and she began to grow aroused. Tentatively she lowered her hand down to his cock, stroking it gently, growing bold as she felt it twitch in her hand.

Teddy awakened. “Jean...” he moaned, pulling her even closer to him. She stopped stroking his cock, and slung one leg over his hips, lowering herself onto him. He moaned again as she sheathed him in her warm, wet heat. “Oh Jean, Jean, Jean...”

“Teddy!” she cried out as she began to come. “Teddy, Teddy, my love!” her calls trailed off into a long, breathless moan as he released within her.

“Jean!” he cried out once more. They lay in each other’s arms, still joined, utterly happy and sated.

“What a wonderful way to wake up,” he said, stroking her sweat-dampened hair.

She smiled up at him, rubbing his chest. “I love you, Teddy,” she said. “And I am sorry that I wasted so many years that we could have been together – so, so sorry,” she apologised again.

“It’s all right, Jean; we are together now – and it was just as much my fault as it was yours; we are both to blame. Let us not dwell in the past, my darling, but look forward to our future.”

“All right, my darling,” she replied. “I’ll try.”


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Later that morning, Jean was relaxing in bed, watching Teddy as he puttered about his studio. She propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes tracking his every move. He got out his paints, his easel, his brushes, and a new canvas, setting it up in front of the bed. He mixed his paints and began to paint her, his beautiful lover, lying in the bed, only a thin sheet hiding her body from his view.

His brush raced across the canvas, painting her for the first time in six years. She was completely entranced in watching him paint her – so entranced that she did not even realise that her muscles were beginning to cramp up from remaining in one position for so long.

Several hours after he started the portrait, he had finished it, and Jean tried to get up to see it, but collapsed as she got out of bed. Her muscles had seized up.

“Darling!” he cried, rushing to her side. He helped her back into bed. “What’s wrong?”

“My muscles have cramped up, I suppose, from not moving for quite a while,” she told him, wincing in pain.

He pulled down the sheet and began to gently knead the muscles of her back. She sighed as all the tension in her body gradually released, causing her to go utterly limp in his arms.

“Mmm, that feels wonderful,” she purred, and he began to place light kisses along the back of her neck.

“Does it?” he asked her.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, completely relaxed for the first time in years. She melted under his hands. Finally completely comfortable, she rolled over and pulled him down on top of her. “Make love to me, Teddy,” she whispered in his ear.

He moaned as she trailed her hands down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. She pushed it off his shoulders, then unfastened his belt, slipping her hands inside his trousers. He kicked them off and lowered himself on top of her, holding her shoulders as she guided him into her.

“Oh, yes!” she cried out. “Yes, yes, yes!”

He could not speak as he released in her, could only moan breathlessly as he collapsed on top of her.

She held him close to her as they caught their breath, their foreheads resting against each other as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“I love you so much, Jean; so, so much,” he whispered. “I wish I had never married my wife – you are the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with – you, always, only you.”

“I love you too, Teddy, and I promise that I will never leave you again, never deny my love for you again. You are everything to me, Teddy, and I denied that to myself for so many years because I didn’t want anyone to have such a hold on me. But you always have, always will. I love you, Teddy.”

“You’ve had me wrapped around your finger ever since I met you,” he confessed.

She kissed him long and deeply. “I love you, Teddy,” she said. “Oh, I love you, love you, love you.” At each expression of her love, she kissed him deeply, pressing herself against his growing erection.

“And I love you, my darling,” he replied, guiding himself into her again. He moved in her slowly, kissing her sensually, and brought them both gently to climax.


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A few hours later Teddy had gone out to the grocers to get some food for them, and Jean straightened up the studio. After she finished tidying up, she went into his bathroom and drew a bath. She was relaxing in the tub when he returned.

“Jean, sweetheart?” he called out.

“I’m in the tub, darling,” she called back.

Teddy put away the food he had bought and entered the bathroom.

“Is there room for me?” he asked her as he began to shed his clothes, watching her as her eyes darkened.

“Oh, yes,” she purred, reaching out her hand to him. He took it and stepped into the tub, joining her.

She began to wash his back, and when she finished, he washed hers. When he finished, he took one of her feet in his hands, tenderly caressing it, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing each of her toes in turn, then took her other foot and kissed it as well. She smiled at him as his hands crept up to her thighs, urging her to bring her ankles up to rest on his shoulders. She obliged him, and he knelt between her legs, guiding himself into her. She gripped the sides of the tub as he moved within her.

“Oh, I love you, Jean,” he said as he thrust within her. “Oh my darling, I love you so much.”

“Teddy!” she called out to him as she began to come. “Oh, Teddy!”

“Yes, Jean, yes!” he cried out and pushed into her once more. He collapsed on top of her. As they recovered, he drained the tub and lifted her out of it, bringing her back into the studio, laying her on the bed.

“Are you hungry, Jean?” he asked her.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Shall I make some tea while you make dinner?”

“Yes, please, darling,” he said. She nodded and took a blanket from the bed, wrapping it around her, while Teddy took his dressing gown from the back of the bathroom door.

He boiled a pot of water and began to cook some spaghetti, a meal that he knew she enjoyed, while she made the tea. While the pasta was cooking, he melted some butter for the noodles. She set the small table and pulled two armchairs up to it, placing them next to each other. When their dinner was ready, he brought it over to the table. They ate quietly, in comfortable silence, before they cleaned up and went to bed.


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He woke up in the middle of the night and Jean was not in bed. “Jean?” he called out.

“I’m here, darling,” she said. She was sitting in the windowsill, his dressing gown wrapped around her. He got out of bed and went to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“What’s wrong, Jean?” he asked her.

“I had an awful dream, Teddy,” she confessed, leaning against his chest.

“Tell me about it,” he coaxed her, stroking her hair.

“I dreamed that you did not love me anymore,” she whispered.

“I will always love you, Jean,” he told her. “I will never stop loving you.”

“Nor will I ever stop loving you,” she replied, smiling slightly, reassured of his love, and tilted her face up for a kiss.

He obliged, wrapping his arms around her, bringing her to her feet, backing her against the wall. She untied the dressing gown she had borrowed from him and let it drop to the floor before wrapping a leg around his hips as he lifted her up, allowing her to lower herself onto his erection. The feel of him moving inside of her, his mere presence, and his declarations of love brought her to the brink of orgasm. He kissed her, their tongues duelling, and they came simultaneously before collapsing on the floor.

As they recovered, Jean yawned. “Let’s go back to bed, Jean,” Teddy suggested, and she nodded. Carefully picking her up, he brought her back over to the bed and laid her between the covers before joining her. She snuggled up in his embrace.

“Good night, Teddy,” she said, kissing him. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Jean Brodie, I love you,” he whispered to her.

She gave him one last kiss and fell asleep, wrapped in his arms.

[kissofdeath]

awww. Cuteness!

One day, I will write a POMJB fic. One day. Some day... Although I highlyn doubt it will ever be nearly as good as yours.

~kissofdeath

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Three

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The next morning, Teddy got up first and began to make breakfast – two omelettes and some bacon, as well as tea. Jean woke up twenty minutes later to the smell of their delicious breakfast. She watched him as he placed their breakfast on a tray and set it down on the table when he noticed that she was awake.

“Good morning, darling,” he said.

She stretched, yawning. “Good morning, Teddy,” she said, smiling. He picked up the tray and brought it over to her, sitting down on the bed next to her. She sat up and kissed him lightly, taking the tray so that he could slip under the covers with her. Leaning against his chest, they fed each other breakfast tenderly and lovingly.

When they were finished with breakfast, Teddy brought the tray and dishes to the sink while Jean went to the bathroom to run a bath. She was incredibly sore after all their love-making – they’d made love six times during the past two days. She sighed as the hot water caressed her sore muscles, soothing them. An hour later, she left the bath and dried herself off before wrapping a towel around her slim figure, re-entering the studio. Teddy was standing at his easel, finishing the portrait of her that he had begun last night. She went over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and looked at the painting of her.

“It’s wonderful, Teddy darling,” she told him, kissing his shoulder. He set his paints down and turned around in her embrace.

“I’m glad that you like it, Jean,” he said, kissing her lightly. “You are my Muse, you know,” he added, smiling as she beamed.

As they began to kiss again, a knock sounded at the door, and Jean looked at him, wide-eyed with panic.

“Quick – hide in the bathroom!” Teddy whispered. She nodded and ran into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She peered out the keyhole and watched as Teddy went to the door and opened it. It revealed his wife, Deirdre.

“Hello, Teddy, darling,” Deirdre said, stepping into the studio. Teddy stood there, staring at her. Deirdre stopped at the easel.

“Who’s this?” she asked him. Teddy hurriedly closed the door to the studio.

“That is Jean Brodie,” he said, his voice seeming to caress her name.

Deirdre’s sharp eye took in the state of the studio – the rumpled bed sheets, the dishes in the sink, Jean’s dress flung over the back of the chair – and she stepped quickly towards the bathroom, flinging open the door to reveal Jean Brodie, her husband’s lover. She turned to her husband.

“I’m tired of this, Teddy,” she said. “I want a divorce.”

“Good,” Teddy replied. She pulled a bundle of papers out of her handbag.

“Sign here, and here, and here,” she said, handing him a pen. “I’ve already completed the paperwork, and the Church has granted us an annulment. I’m moving back to Ireland, and I’m taking the children with me.”

“All right,” he agreed. “I’d like to say goodbye to them, though,” he said. He had never been close with his children, but he did love them. He knew that they would be better off with their mother, however. He finished signing the paperwork and turned to Jean.

“I’ll be back soon, darling,” he said, going over to her and kissing her lips lightly.

“All right,” she replied.

He gave her one last kiss and then left for his home with his wife to say goodbye to his children for the last time.

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When he returned, Jean was not there, but she had left a note on the table.

“Darling, I just ran back to my flat to get some fresh clothes for tomorrow. I should be back soon. I love you, Jean.”

Teddy sighed and sat down on his bed. While he was at his house, after he had said goodbye to his children, Deirdre had left him forever. She did not want any money – she was wealthy herself – and all she had wanted was to leave him as soon as possible.

He heard the door open, pulling him out of his thoughts, and he looked up, smiling as Jean walked in to the studio.

“Hello, Teddy,” she said, setting down her bag, walking over to him and sitting on his lap. She kissed him lightly, and he returned the kiss, his tongue running along her bottom lip. She moaned, allowing her head to drop back, baring her neck, and he began to kiss her white throat.

“Oh Teddy,” she moaned his name as he kissed the base of her neck. “Teddy...”

He stood up, carrying her to the bed, and undressed himself before undressing her. He needed her, he needed to make her a part of him, needed to re-affirm their love. He entered her, making them one, and groaned as she wrapped her legs around him.

“I love you, I need you, oh Jean, Jean,” he murmured, driving into her forcefully.

“Teddy! Teddy, Teddy, my one, my only!” she cried out to him as she began to come. “Oh, yes, Teddy!”

He collapsed on top of her. “Oh Jean, I love you, I love you,” he whispered to her. “Will you marry me?”

She looked deep into his eyes. “Yes,” she replied simply. He smiled at her, their foreheads resting against each other, and kissed her nose lightly.

“I love you, Jean Brodie,” he said.

“And I love you, Teddy Lloyd,” she replied. “I love you.”

They lay in bed for several hours, just holding each other. Jean could not believe that Deirdre had left Teddy – she could not believe that it had been that easy. Everything was going perfectly, and it astonished her. She could not help but think that something awful was about to happen, but she tried to push that out of her mind – she was happy, and she wanted to stay happy.

Teddy could not believe how well everything was going either. After years of being trapped in a loveless marriage, he was finally free, finally able to be with the woman he loved more than anything in the world – even his own life. He was content just to hold her, smell her hair, feel her bare skin against his – he did not need anything else except the woman in his arms.

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Dinnertime came, and Jean and Teddy went back to her flat. He too had brought back a bag of clothes from his house, and they both had decided that it would look less suspicious on Monday if they appeared separately – Teddy on the tram and Jean on her bike, as usual.

He had given her an engagement ring that night in bed – it had been his mother’s. Before his engagement to Deirdre, her mother had given him her ring, and so she had not worn his mother’s ring. He was glad of that, because when he had slipped the diamond cluster ring on Jean’s finger, it appeared to have been made for her – her and no one else.

“It’s beautiful, Teddy,” she breathed, holding out her hand to admire the ring. He took her left hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing it lightly.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so, so much.”

She tore her eyes away from her ring and gazed adoringly up at him. “And I love you, Teddy.”

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The next morning, Jean’s alarm clock woke them up. Getting out of bed, they tried, successfully though with much difficulty, to restrain themselves from making love. Jean made breakfast while Teddy got their things ready for work.

When she had finished making breakfast, Jean set the table, and Teddy brought their bags to the front door before joining his fiancée for breakfast. She had made hotcakes, bacon, and tea for breakfast – all of which were delicious.

After finishing breakfast, Teddy helped Jean with the dishes before they both got ready for school. He walked her downstairs and they went to the tram stop together. He pulled her into the alley and gave her a passionate kiss before he boarded the tram. She mounted her bicycle and began to pedal to Marcia Blaine.

When she arrived, Teddy was waiting for her by the front door. She smiled at him and he walked her to her classroom.

“I’ll see you at lunch, Jean?” he asked her hopefully.

“Of course, Teddy,” she replied. “I love you,” she whispered, smiling.

“I love you too, Jean,” he whispered in reply before walking to his classroom, turning and smiling at her. She returned his smile and entered her classroom.

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The morning went well – she set her girls some reading about the succession of the Stuarts, and was able to sit at her desk and daydream about her future with Teddy. Several hours later, the lunch bell rang, and she found Teddy waiting just outside the door for her.

He led her outside to the oak tree, where a picnic blanket and basket were waiting for them, along with Jenny and Monica – Sandy was nowhere to be found.

“Hello Miss Brodie!” they called out, preparing a plate for her. She exchanged a smile with Teddy, who returned it, and led her to the picnic blanket. They sat down and began to eat, chatting lightly.

“Where is Sandy?” Jean asked.

Jenny and Monica exchanged a look. “I don’t know,” Jenny admitted.

“Oh, well,” Jean sighed. “I needed to talk to her – I’ll try to find her later. If you girls see her, please tell her that I need to speak with her.”

Monica and Jenny nodded obediently.

Jean looked at her watch. “Oh, dear! Lunch is almost over,” she exclaimed. They began to pack up the remains of their lunch, and Teddy took the basket back, before helping Jean to her feet.

“Goodbye, dears!” Jean called as she and Teddy walked back inside. Monica and Jenny waved goodbye to their teacher before returning to class themselves.

When she returned to her classroom, she found a note waiting for her on her desk.

“Miss Brodie,” the note read, “I would like to meet with you this afternoon at four fifteen. Sincerely, Emmaline Mackay.” Jean set the note down, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she could not dwell on her fears because her class re-entered the room. Unlike the morning session, the afternoon passed much more slowly. Finally four-fifteen arrived, and Jean knocked on the door to Miss Mackay’s office.

“Come in!” Miss Mackay called, and Jean entered her office with a feeling that this meeting would change her life – for the worse.

[kissofdeath]

ooh, ooh!

great chapter, but evil cliffie!

Can't complain though, I'm a big fan of using cliffies myself.

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Four

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A/N: Most of the dialogue in this chapter is taken from the movie.
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“Miss Brodie! Please come in,” Miss Mackay said. “Won’t you take a seat?” she said, gesturing to the seat in front of her desk. Jean took the chair that was offered to her.

“Now, Miss Brodie,” Miss Mackay said, smiling nastily. “You are fired for spreading Fascism among your pupils.”

Jean’s mouth dropped open and her heart seemed to stop for a moment, but she rallied her defences, standing up from her seat. “Miss Mackay, since you were first appointed headmistress of Marcia Blaine you have done nothing but try to dismiss me from the teaching staff. You have tried every feeble excuse, even that of immorality, and failed. Now you are accusing me of preaching politics to my pupils. Such a continuous personal vendetta is hardly conducive to the dignity of your position,” she declared.

“Miss Brodie, I don’t think you quite understand,” Miss Mackay said, with obvious enjoyment. “Let me make the situation perfectly clear. It is not I, but the Board of Governors who have pursued this investigation to its conclusion. And it is the Board of Governors who, after having given due consideration to the grave charges laid against you, have given instructions that you leave this school immediately and that your classes be taken over tomorrow morning by another teacher. The Board has asked me to convey to you the fact that your salary will be paid in full until the end of the term which, under the circumstances, is more than generous. Miss Brodie, there is nothing more to be said.”

“I shall not accept the Board’s action,” Miss Brodie stated. “I shall petition. I shall put the question before the public, before the parents, and the student body. You will find, Miss Mackay, that I have the loyalty of my girls.” She left Miss Mackay’s office, and had made it to the door leading to the hallway, when Miss Mackay called out after her,

“Do you, Miss Brodie?”

Jean looked at her, confused, and fled to her classroom. On the way to her classroom, she passed the staff room, and saw Gordon and Miss Lockhart standing at the piano, while the rest of the teaching staff stood around them.

“For they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellows, for they are jolly good fellows, which nobody can deny!” The teaching staff applauded.

“Come now, Lowther, give us a song!” one of the teachers called out, and Gordon smiled, sitting down at the piano.

“Why, Miss Brodie, aren’t you coming to the common room?” the gym teacher asked.

“Common room?” Jean replied faintly.

“The celebration honouring Miss Lockhart and Mr. Lowther.”

Gordon began to play and sing. “My love is like a red, red rose...”

Jean began to walk towards her classroom again, her heart aching. Gordon used to sing that song to her – it had been their song.

“Aren’t you coming, Miss Brodie?” the gym teacher called after her.

Jean turned around. “I’ll... I’ll be there shortly.”

As she continued the walk to her classroom, Gordon’s voice echoed in the corridors.

“...in June. Oh, my love is like a melody, that’s sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonny lass, so deep in love am I...”

Jean entered her classroom and leaned against the wall for a moment before she sensed someone watching her. Gordon’s voice still echoed in her ears.

“And I will love thee still, my dear...”

Jean turned around and saw Sandy standing there. She turned on the lights.

“Sandy.” Jean walked to her desk. “Sandy.” She rested her hands on her desk, her back to Sandy. “I believe, Sandy...” she trailed off. “I believe I am past my prime. I had reckoned on my prime lasting... till I was at least... fifty.” She raised her head slightly, her back still to Sandy. “Are you listening, Sandy?” she asked.

“I’m listening, Miss Brodie,” Sandy replied calmly.

Jean turned around. “I have been dismissed from Marcia Blaine. I am accused of teaching treason and sedition to my students. I am being transported for radicalism, like Thomas Muir of Huntershill. But if Miss Mackay and her conspirators expect that I shall meekly lay my head on their chopping block, they’re in for a wee surprise.

“What will you do?” Sandy asked.

“As I informed Miss Mackay, I will resort to public petition. I have no doubt that many supporters will rally to my defence. My students are loyal. My girls...” she trailed off. “Someone betrayed me, Sandy. Someone spoke against me to the board. Who could it have been? Who?”

“Are you thinking that maybe one of your girls betrayed you?” Sandy asked her.

“I said to Miss Mackay, ‘I have the loyalty of my girls,’ and she said, ‘Do you?’” Jean took a deep breath. “I’ll not believe it. I’ll not believe it was one of my girls.”

“Perhaps it’s true,” Sandy suggested.

Jean turned to her. “I thought possibly Monica. There’s very little soul...”

“Monica is a loyal girl,” Sandy interrupted her.

“I know,” Jean said. “You all are. Monica and Jenny. Oh, not Jenny. She’s like a part of myself,” Jean trailed off, smiling softly at the thought of Jenny. “You, Sandy... as you see, you are exempt from all suspicion. You have had more of my confidence than anyone. You know more that anyone what I have sacrificed for my girls. Teddy Lloyd is greatly in love with me, Sandy, as I think you have always known. And I gave him up for so many years to consecrate my life to the young girls in my care... you and Monica and Jenny. Jenny... I had wanted her to be Teddy’s lover...”

Sandy interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. “Do you think you are Providence? That you can ordain love?”

“What?” Jean asked her, startled.

“You haven’t pulled it off. Jenny will not be Teddy Lloyd’s lover,” Sandy stated firmly.

“I know,” Jean said, smiling slightly, which only served to fan the flames of Sandy’s anger.

“Jenny will not be Teddy Lloyd’s lover and I’ll not be your spy, your secret service.”

“My spy? What on earth are you talking about?” Jean asked her. “Do you understand at all what has happened to me? I have been dismissed from Marcia Blaine!” she shouted. “Why are you standing there talking about Providence and the secret service? What is the matter with you?”

“Miss Brodie, I am Teddy’s lover,” Sandy said.

“You were Teddy’s lover,” Jean corrected her.

“What?” Sandy exclaimed.

“You were Teddy’s lover,” Jean repeated. “But he told me that you ended it. And now Teddy and I are engaged,” she finished, showing Sandy the ring Teddy had given her yesterday.

“What?” Sandy exclaimed again. “But he’s married!”

“No,” Jean said. “No, he’s not. His wife applied for and was granted an annulment; she has returned to Ireland with their children.”

“How could you take him from me?” Sandy shrieked.

“How dare you speak to me in this manner?” Jean exclaimed.

“I suppose I've always known that one day you were going to ask how dare I?” Sandy said.

“Why? I don't understand. I don't seem to understand what has happened to everyone. Where has everyone gone?” Jean asked faintly, wandering to the window.

“Only Mary is gone,” Sandy said.

“Mary? What has Mary to do with it?” Jean asked her testily.

“Miss Brodie, Mary McGregor is dead!” Sandy exclaimed. “Are you aware of the order of importance in which you place your anxieties? One, you have been betrayed; two, who has betrayed you; and three, Mary’s death. Miss Brodie, aren’t you concerned at all with Mary’s death?”

“I grieve for Mary,” Jean replied.

“It was because of you she went!” Sandy spat out.

“Because of me? It was her brother. The poor, unfortunate girl hadn’t anyone else in the world,” Jean said.

“She had you. That was her misfortune!” Sandy exclaimed. “To please you, that silly, stupid girl ran off and got herself killed! Don’t you feel responsible for that?” Sandy shrieked.

“No,” Jean said. “No, I feel responsible for giving her ideals... the ideals that sent her to Spain. I feel responsible for teaching her that service to a cause is a privilege.”

“You call it a privilege to be killed? And for nothing. Nothing!” Sandy exclaimed.

“You really are a shallow girl, Sandy,” Jean told her. “By the way she died, Mary McGregor illumined her life. She died a heroine.”

“She died a fool!” Sandy shouted. “Joining her brother to fight for Franco... wasn’t that just like Mary?” Sandy sneered before drawing out her trump card. “Her brother is fighting for the other side.”

“Her brother...” Jean repeated faintly.

“Her brother is fighting for the Republicans!” Sandy exclaimed triumphantly. “Mary was headed for the wrong army!”

“Oh, Mary McGregor!” Jean cried out exasperatedly.

“Mary McGregor,” Sandy repeated. “I used to wonder why you always called Mary by her full name. I think it was because you had such a hard time remembering who she was. Poor, dim Mary,” Sandy said condescendingly.

“I was devoted to Mary,” Jean stated.

“No, you were only attracted to Mary because she had no one else and she was so totally suggestible. She appealed to your vanity!” Sandy dealt her master-stroke.

“It was you who betrayed me!” Jean exclaimed.

“I didn't betray you! I simply put a stop to you!” Sandy defended herself.

Jean turned away from her. “Oh, I see,” she said faintly.

“No, you don't see,” Sandy said. “You don’t see that you’re not good for people.”

“In what way?” Jean asked. “In what way, Sandy, was I not good for you?” she questioned her.

“You are dangerous, and unwholesome, and children should not be exposed to you!” she exclaimed.

“How can you think it?” Jean asked her. “How can you think that I would harm you?”

“But you have – you have harmed me!”

“How?” Jean asked her desperately.

“You have murdered Mary!” cried Sandy.

“You have assassinated me!” Jean shrieked.

“Oh, why must you always strike attitudes?” asked Sandy haughtily. “You really are a ridiculous woman!” Jean turned away from her, tears in her eyes, and Sandy suddenly became remorseful. “What will you do... now?” she asked her former teacher sympathetically.

Jean turned to her. “Do?” she asked faintly. “I don’t know.” Her voice gained strength as she went on. “But I am a descendant, do not forget, of Willie Brodie. He was a man of substance, a cabinetmaker and a designer of gibbets, a member of the town council of Edinburgh; the keeper of two mistresses who bore him five children between them. Blood tells. He played much dice and fighting cocks. Eventually, he was a wanted man for having robbed the excise office. Not that he needed the money. He was a burglar for the sake of the danger. He died cheerfully on a gibbet of his own devising in 1788. That is the stuff I am made of,” she finished, her spirits higher than they had been when she had entered the room.

“I knew you would rise like a phoenix,” Sandy said. “I’m glad I shall not have to worry about you.”

“No, I expect that is to be your gift, Sandy – to kill without concern,” she said. “It is you who are dangerous. You see yourself as a conqueror, don't you, Sandy? Kaiserian in all his beauty rare,” she accused her former student.

“But you profess to be a great admirer of conquerors,” Sandy stated. “Good-bye, Miss Brodie,” she bade her former teacher farewell and left the classroom.

Jean stood there for a moment before rushing after her. Sandy was already halfway down the hall, and Jean clutched the banister, staring after her. “Assassin!” she screamed. “Assassin!” Her cries echoed through the corridors, and Teddy stuck his head out of his classroom, but Sandy did not turn around. Jean collapsed in a heap at the top of the stairs, not even noticing Teddy running towards her.

“Jean!” he cried. “Oh, Jean, what happened?” he asked her, taking her in his arms.

“I have been betrayed,” she sobbed. “Sandy betrayed me! I have been dismissed from Marcia Blaine!” she cried.

Teddy did his best to soothe her, but he did not know what to say. All he could do was hold her, stroke her hair, and whisper of his love. Eventually she regained control of herself, and got to her feet.

“I need to pack up my things,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I’ll get crate for your things,” he murmured, giving her a light kiss on her mouth, watching as she entered her room. He went back to his classroom and got an empty crate before hurrying back to her classroom.

She had taken down her print of one of Giotto’s frescoes and had gathered the rest of her personal belongings together in a pile on her desk. She turned to him as he entered the room, and he crossed the distance between them in a few strides, setting the crate down on her desk and embracing her.

“Oh Jean, Jean,” he whispered in her ear. “We’ll get through this – I know we can.”

She began to sob again. “How, Teddy, how?”

“I’m going to tender my resignation,” he told her. “I have money, we won’t have to find other jobs – I can open an exhibition.”

“You would resign for me?” she asked, sniffling.

“Of course I will,” he soothed her.

“Thank you, Teddy,” she said. She stepped out of his embrace and placed her things in the crate Teddy had brought for her. When she had finished, he picked up the crate and walked with her downstairs. She placed the crate on the back of her bicycle, and they walked back to her flat.

They brought the crate of her things upstairs to her flat, and she began to unpack her things, while Teddy began to draft his letter of resignation.

“To whom it may concern: I, Teddy Lloyd, will not be renewing my contract at the end of this term. I have enjoyed working at Marcia Blaine, and am grateful for the many good years I have spent here. Sincerely, Teddy Lloyd.”

Jean had finished unpacking her things, and she returned to the kitchen. He read the letter to her.

“Teddy, thank you for resigning for me,” she whispered, sitting down in his lap and twining her arms around his neck.

“I would do anything for you, Jean,” he told her. “Anything. I love you.”

“And I love you, Teddy,” she replied, snuggling against his chest.

“Why don’t we go to bed, my love?” he suggested. “You’ve had a long day.”

“All right,” she agreed, allowing him to lead her to her bedroom. She stripped off her clothes, as did he, and they got under the covers. He held her tightly to him.

“Let’s get married this weekend,” he whispered. “I cannot wait any longer to be your husband.”

“All right,” she agreed.

“We can live in my house,” he said, and she nodded against his chest.

“I don’t care where we live, Teddy, as long as I’m with you,” she told him.

He kissed her forehead. “I love you so much, Jean,” he said. “You are my life.”

“And you are mine,” she whispered. “You are mine.”

[kissofdeath]

awwww. loved the update!

stupid sandy. i never liked her.

[KristaMarie]

I finally caught up with this... and I love it of course!! I really hated Sandy throughout that movie... and I still hate her here lol! I can't wait for the next chapter!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Five

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He had never seen Jean Brodie look so defeated, not even at the dance when he had destroyed her view of the world. Yes, she had been defeated then, but she had not been betrayed. And the fact that she had been betrayed by Sandy, her former confidante and his ex-lover, was even worse.

He hoped that when they were married this coming weekend they could be able to move past her life as a teacher. He hoped that they would be happier in his home – she had never visited it, so there were no unpleasant associations of her past that would trouble her.

As for his memories of the house, memories of his life with Deirdre and their children... well, they would make their own memories. And if she could not be happy there, then he would sell the house and they could find another one. And if they could not find a place in Edinburgh that was full of memories, then they would move. He would give up everything just to make her happy.

And in two weeks the term would have ended, and they would be able to spend all their time with each other. And he would be able to prepare for his exhibition. All the portraits would be of Jean, his Jean... and he would call the collection “The Flower of Scotland,” for that was certainly what Jean was. It would open with the painting he had done years ago on their first night together. She would have to pose for him many more times – and he was excited that she would pose for him again. His mind was filled with ideas of how he would paint her – reading, smiling, picking flowers – everything and anything. He would never grow tired of painting her – she was his Muse.

He looked down at her, watching her sleep – her face was peaceful for the first time that day, the lines of stress, anxiety, and sadness smoothed away from her face. She looked exactly like she had the first night they had spent together – just as beautiful, just as perfect. He stroked her hair lightly, relishing the feel of her silky hair against his skin. He loved her so, so much – more than anything in the world. Growing sleepy, he tightened his embrace and fell asleep, soothed by the feel of her body against his.

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Later that night, Teddy woke up to the sound of Jean crying. She was no longer in bed, but was curled up in the window seat, a blanket wrapped around her naked body. She was cradling her head in her hands, and her slim form was shaking as sobs racked her body. He stood up and joined her on the window seat, wrapping his arms around her. She turned in his embrace, burying her face in her chest. He rubbed her back as she cried.

“Oh, God, Teddy, I killed Mary!” she choked out. “I killed her!”

“No, you didn’t Jean,” he told her. “You were not the one who bombed the train. You might have helped her get to Spain, but it was not your fault that she died. She did want to join her brother, and she would have gone. Just because she was heading for the wrong army doesn’t make it your fault – she didn’t know herself that it was the wrong army.”

“Really, Teddy? You believe that, truly believe that?” she questioned him.

“Yes,” he told her. “Yes, I do.”

Her sobbing subsided a bit. “Then I’ll try to believe it as well,” she replied, scooting onto his lap, wrapping her arms around him. She leaned her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. The longer she stayed wrapped in his arms, the more her sobbing abated, and soon she had stopped crying. He continued to rub her back, and when she began to kiss his neck, he began to grow aroused. She was pleased to feel his growing erection against her, and she continued to kiss him, one hand massaging his cock, the other stroking his chest.

“Mmm,” she sighed as he pulled the blanket away from her body, letting it drop on the ground. “Teddy, please, please make love to me,” she whispered into his ear. “I need you, I need you so much...”

He nodded, picking her up in his strong arms and carrying her over to the bed. He laid her down on top of the covers and straddled her.

“Please Teddy, take me, take me hard,” she begged him, and he nodded again, entering her.

“Oh God, Teddy, harder, harder!” she cried, her hips bucking against his. He obliged, thrusting into her harder, as per her request. “Yes, yes!” she cried. “I love you, I love you Teddy!”

He began to come as well, and she clutched at his back as his climax prolonged her own. He collapsed on top of her, and they lay sprawled in each other’s arms, utterly sated.

“I love you, Teddy,” she whispered.

“And I love you, my darling, darling Jean,” he replied. He stroked her hair as she lay wrapped in his arms. “Jean, sweetheart?” he asked her.

“Yes, Teddy?” she replied.

“Where would you like to go on our honeymoon?” he asked.

“Let’s just stay here, Teddy – I just want to spend time with you, and I don’t want to waste any time in travelling,” she replied.

“I’ll find a hotel in Edinburgh that we can stay in, then,” he said.

“No – I don’t want to prevent you from working on your exhibition,” she said.

“If you’re sure, my darling,” he said, and she nodded.

“I’m sure,” she told him. “What is your exhibition going to be of?” she asked him.

“You,” he replied, smiling at her.

“Me?” she asked.

“Yes, Jean. you. It will be called “The Flower of Scotland”, because that is what you are,” he said.

“I’m honoured, Teddy,” she said, smiling up at him.

“You are my Muse, Jean – and I love you.”

“And I love you,” she replied.

He yawned, and wrapped his arms around her once more. “Good night, my darling,” he whispered, kissing her lips lightly.

“Good night, Teddy,” she replied, snuggling up against him and allowing herself to fall asleep once more.

[kissofdeath]

aww. such a sweet update.

there's more, right?

[dianahawthorne]

Yes, there is more, but it has not been written yet.

Glad you're liking the story, my dear!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Six


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The next morning Jean’s alarm clock rang, and Teddy turned it off before Jean woke up. He washed up quickly and quietly and made some toast for a quick breakfast. As he ate, he wrote Jean a note.

“Good morning, darling,” it began. “I had to go to work and I didn’t want to wake you, as you looked so peaceful. I’ll see you this afternoon. I love you so much. Teddy.” He went back into her bedroom and placed the note on her nightstand, before giving her a light kiss on her forehead. He left her flat and took the tram to school.

Before he went to his classroom, he went to Miss Mackay’s office.

“Come in!” she called, and he entered the Headmistress’s office. “Ah, Mr. Lloyd, won’t you have a seat?” Miss Mackay asked. He sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

“Miss Mackay, I would like to give you my notice,” he said. “I am resigning at the end of the term.”

“Why?” she asked him, utterly flabbergasted by his revelation.

“I am resigning in protest of Miss Brodie’s dismissal,” he told her, pleased when she flushed brick red.

“It was not my decision,” said Miss Mackay. “It was the decision of the Board of Governors. She was dismissed because she had been teaching fascism.”

“No, she was dismissed because you hated her,” Teddy said. Miss Mackay flushed an even deeper shade of red.

“That’s not true,” she stammered. He stood up.

“Yes, it is true. Good day, Miss Mackay.” Exiting her office, he acknowledged Miss Gaunt with a nod and walked to his classroom. Sandy was sitting at one of the desks.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her, closing the door behind him.

“You’re engaged to Jean Brodie?” she asked him, ignoring his question.

“Yes, I am,” he replied.

“Why?” she shrieked, flying at him, pounding his chest with her fists. He gripped her wrists, holding her away from him, incredibly surprised by her reaction.

“Because I love her,” he said, releasing Sandy. “You have to go.”

She slapped him across his face and stormed out of the room.

He sat at his desk, his head in his hands. It had been a difficult day, and it was only nine o’clock in the morning.

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Back in her flat, Jean was just stirring from a restless night’s slumber. When she woke up, she felt for Teddy, who wasn’t there, and his side of the bed was cold. She sat up and looked around, spying a note on her nightstand. She opened it.

“Good morning, darling, I had to go to work and I didn’t want to wake you, as you looked so peaceful. I’ll see you this afternoon. I love you so much. Teddy.” She set the note back down on her nightstand and stood up, going into the bathroom and running a bath. As she sunk into her bathtub, the hot water caressing her body, she sighed, wishing that it was Teddy caressing her instead.

“Teddy...” she sighed aloud. She began to daydream about their life together, but was shocked out of her dreaming state by her door-buzzer going off. She got out of the tub, slipping into her robe, and wrapped a towel around her dripping hair, before going to the door. She opened it, revealing Gordon Lowther.

“Gordon!” she gasped, her hand flying to her throat.

“Hello Jean. May I come in?” he asked her, and she wordlessly stepped aside, allowing him to enter her flat. He went into her parlour, seating himself on her sofa. She perched on her armchair.

“I heard that you were dismissed from Marcia Blaine,” he said, and she began to cry, burying her face in her hands. “Oh, Jean,” he said, moving closer to her, wrapping an arm around her. She stiffened in his embrace.

“Gordon, don’t...” she said, and was interrupted by his lips on hers. She tried to push him away, but he was too strong for her. “Gordon, no!” she cried out when he broke away from her for air.

“Why not, Jean?” he asked her. “I love you. Just because I am married now doesn’t mean that we still can’t be together.”

“I don’t love you!” she cried. “I’m in love with Teddy. We’re engaged.”

He looked at her in shock, his hold on her loosening. She took the opportunity to pull away from him.

“How can you be engaged to him? He’s married,” he said.

“No, he’s not married anymore. His wife had the marriage annulled. And it’s none of your business anyway,” she told him. He nodded dazedly. “I’d like you to go now,” she said, and he nodded again, standing up.

“Goodbye, Jean,” he said.

“Goodbye, Gordon,” she replied.

He took her into his arms once more and kissed her gently and lovingly.

“I’ll always love you, Jean,” he said.

“Goodbye, Gordon,” she repeated. He left her flat, looking back at her from over his shoulder. She closed the door and leaned against it, sighing. It had been a difficult day, and it was only ten o’clock in the morning.

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When Teddy returned from work, he found Jean sitting on her sofa, still in her dressing gown with a towel wrapped around her head. He rushed to her side.

“Jean, what’s wrong?” he asked her, drawing her into his arms.

“Gordon was here,” she whispered. He tensed.

“What happened? What did he do?” he asked her.

“He wanted me to continue having an affair with him,” she said quietly. “I told him no; that I didn’t love him, that I loved you.”

He buried his face in her hair. “Sandy came to see me today as well,” he told her. “She was quite angry that we are engaged.”

“She shouldn’t be,” Jean murmured. “She left you; she betrayed me; she was the one who put this all into motion.”

“You’re right, Jean,” he said, nuzzling her hair.

“I love you, Teddy, and I can’t wait any longer to be your wife,” she told him seriously, looking up into his eyes. “Let’s get married now.”

[kissofdeath]

awwwww! Cuteness!

I really envy your update speed. It takes a while for a good idea to hit me.

~kissofdeath

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Seven


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“All right,” he agreed. “We’ll need two witnesses.”

“Let’s just go to the courthouse – I’m sure that we could find two people to witness our marriage.”

“All right,” he said. He would have agreed to anything she asked of him.

She went into the bedroom to get changed while he combed his hair and straightened his tie. She emerged, wearing a light blue frock which fell just past her knees.

“I’m ready,” she said, and he offered her his arm, leading her downstairs to the tram stop.

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They arrived at the courthouse and were married by one of the judges. Two clerks witnessed their marriage. When the brief ceremony was over, they walked the two blocks to Teddy’s house, which was located in the heart of old Edinburgh. When he unlocked the door, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold as she giggled girlishly.

“Would you like the grand tour, Mrs. Lloyd?” Teddy asked Jean, whose face lit up at the sound of her new name.

“Later, Teddy, later – right now I just need you,” she told him, looking up at him adoringly.

He smiled at her statement and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Teddy, please do be careful!” she giggled as he spun her around at the top of the stairs. He smiled down at her, and brought her in to the bedroom.

“Oh, Teddy,” she whispered when he finally set her down. He pulled her to him.

“Jean,” he breathed, unzipping her dress. “My darling, darling Jean; my dearest love; my darling, darling wife...”

She began to unbutton his shirt.

“Teddy, my husband,” she said, smiling widely. “Oh, how good it is to finally be married to you!” she exclaimed, and he smiled down at her, pausing in the act of undressing her to lead her to the mirror that hung across from the bed. He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her, and they looked at their reflection.

“Mr. and Mrs. Teddy Lloyd,” she whispered, smiling up at her husband.

“Mr. and Mrs. Teddy Lloyd,” he repeated, kissing the back of her neck. He resumed the process of undressing her, and she turned in his arms, which allowed her to continue undressing him as well. When they were finally nude, she pulled him onto the bed. He entered her almost immediately, such was the strength of his desire. When he entered her, they gasped at the completeness they felt with each other, infinitely more so than the other times they had made love. Their bodies moved together as one, and together they reached the heights of passion they had never known to exist. In perfect concert with each other, they came simultaneously, calling out the other’s name.

“Oh, Jean, Jean,” he whispered into her ear.

“That was absolutely incredible,” she said softly, stroking his chest.

“Yes, it was,” he replied, holding her close to him.

A movement across the room caught her eye, and she looked over her shoulder at it – it was their reflection in the mirror. She twisted around in his arms so that she could stare at their reflection in the mirror that hung across from the bed. She smiled at their reflection – they both looked so happy.

“Look at us, Teddy,” she whispered, pointing at the mirror. He did, sitting up against the pillows in their bed and pulling her back into his embrace.

“You look so beautiful, Jean,” he said. “Absolutely radiant.”

She smiled and blushed. “No, not at me – at US. We look so perfect together,” she said, continuing to stare at their reflection, transfixed at the sight of herself in his arms.

He tore his eyes away from her reflection and looked at them. They did indeed look perfect together – she fit in his arms like she was made to go there. His own dark head was resting against her golden one, and their naked bodies were pressed against each other. They fit together so perfectly – they completed each other. He was dark, she was fair; he was tall, she was small and delicate. They were two halves of a whole – and they were meant to be together forever. She scooted down to the edge of the bed and perched on it; he joined her.

“Yes, we do,” he whispered to her, becoming aroused. She could see his growing erection in the mirror, and she tore her eyes away from their reflection, turning to him.

“Turn back around, Jean,” he whispered, placing his hands on her shoulders, turning her so that she faced the mirror again. He stood, pulling her up with him, and stepped behind her. Sitting down on the edge of the bed again, he held his erection in one hand as he pulled her down onto his lap with the other. She moaned with pleasure as she lowered herself onto him.

They kept their eyes on their reflection as they made love, Teddy thrusting within her. She watched him as he moved within her, and once more they cried out as one as they reached the heights of passion together.

As they recovered, they lay back on the bed, snuggled in each other’s arms.

“That was amazing,” he whispered to her, stroking her hair.

“Yes, oh yes,” she said. “It was marvellous.”

They moved back up the bed, getting under the covers, leaning back against the pillows. Jean stayed curled up in her husband’s arms, her eyes closed, smiling as he stroked her hair.

“I love you so much, Teddy Lloyd,” she said. “I am so glad to be your wife.”

“And I love you, Jean Brodie,” he began, but Jean interrupted him.

“No, no, no; it’s Jean Lloyd now,” she told him, smiling up at him. He kissed her lips.

“I love you, Jean Lloyd,” he said seriously, looking into her eyes, taking her hands and entwining his fingers with hers. He brought their joined hands up to his lips, kissing her fingertips lightly. She placed her other hand on his cheek and smiled at him; he closed his eyes and held her hand to his cheek. “I love you, Jean Lloyd,” he repeated, opening his eyes to look down at her. She smiled once more up at him before closing her eyes again and placing her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, letting the steady rhythm lull her to sleep.

He stayed awake, looking at their reflection in the mirror. They really were perfect together, absolutely perfect. They had been made for each other, were destined to be together. As he looked at their reflection, he smiled, placing a kiss on top of his wife’s head.

Wife. It used to be such an ugly word to him, at least when he was married to Deirdre, because it had kept him and Jean apart. But now, now that he was married to the woman he loved, it was one of the most beautiful words in the world.

“I love you, Jean Lloyd,” he whispered to his sleeping wife, before going to sleep himself.

[kissofdeath]

awwwwwwwww.

loved the update sweetie. totally hope theres more.

[dianahawthorne]

Yes, there is more, though I haven't written it yet. Glad that you liked it!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Eight


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The painting referenced can be found on Modigliani's Wikipedia page. That scene is taken from the movie "Travels With My Aunt".
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The next morning, Teddy’s alarm clock went off, waking them up.

“Good morning, Jean,” Teddy said, kissing her. She returned the kiss.

“Good morning, Teddy,” she replied. They got out of bed, Jean wrapping herself in Teddy’s flannel dressing gown, while he got dressed.

“D’you want the grand tour now, my love?” he asked her. She nodded eagerly. “All right – let’s start up here. This is our bedroom, obviously,” he said, chuckling. He led her down the hall. “These are the nurseries,” he told her, indicating the three doors on the left side of the hallway. “These are the spare rooms,” he continued, indicating two doors on the right side of the hall. He opened the third door on the right, revealing a flight of stairs leading up. “This is the attic,” he said, before closing the door. He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her downstairs.

“Here’s the parlour, the drawing room, the dining room, the downstairs lav, and the kitchen,” he finished, bringing her through each room as he named it.

“It’s much larger than I expected,” Jean admitted. “Mightn’t it be a wee bit too large for just the two of us?”

“We can rent out the house, if you like, and find a smaller one,” he suggested.

She smiled up at him. “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “What I meant was... why don’t we fill the nurseries again?” she suggested, blushing prettily.

“Children?” he asked her, and she nodded.

“Your Church does enjoin you to go forth and be fruitful,” she said. “And while I still don’t approve of the Church of Rome, I do think that a few children would make the house more cheerful,” she said.

He beamed down at her, taking her in his arms and twirled her around.

“Teddy!” she exclaimed, peals of laughter echoing through the room.

He set her down at last, giving her a kiss. “I must run,” he said, giving her a kiss. “I’m going to be late for work, my darling.”

“I’ll go back to my flat, then, and pack up some things,” she said.

“All right. I’ll see you this afternoon, then,” he said, kissing her once more. He walked to the front door, turning around before he opened it. “I love you, Jean Lloyd – I love you forever.”

“I love you too, Teddy,” she replied, crossing to him to give him one final kiss.

“See you this afternoon, my love,” he said, and with one final kiss to her soft lips, he left for Marcia Blaine.

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Teddy had a much better day at work than he had the day before – he did not see Sandy, for one thing; and his classes went very well. However, Gordon confronted him before he could leave for the day.

“Jean told me that she is engaged to you,” he said. “Is it true?”

“No, it’s not,” Teddy said.

“I knew it!” Gordon declared triumphantly.

“We’re married,” Teddy continued, smirking as Gordon’s expression of shock.

“Married?” he exclaimed, stunned. “When did this happen?”

“Last night, not that it’s any of your affair,” Teddy said. “Now, I have to go – my wife is waiting for me.” Teddy left, hands in his pockets, whistling as he walked to the tram station.

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Jean went back to her flat later that morning and packed up several bags of clothes and personal items before taking the tram back to Teddy’s – their – house. She unpacked her things and began to explore the house. She realised, in her survey of the kitchen, that there was very little food in the house, so she walked to the grocer’s and purchased food for the rest of the week, which she had delivered to the house.

By the time she returned from the grocer’s, it was time to start preparing dinner. Jean loved to cook, and she had just put the chicken into the oven when Teddy returned.

“Jean?” he called out when he entered the house.

“In the kitchen, darling!” she called back. He found her in the middle of a cosily domestic scene, an apron around her slim waist as she stood at the stove. As he entered the kitchen, the kettle began to sing, and she took it off the fire and poured the water into the teapot.

“Tea, my love?” she asked her husband, placing the teapot on a tray and bringing it into the parlour. He followed her and seated himself on the couch, pulling her down with him. He poured them both a cup of tea, adding two sugars and a splash of cream into her cup and adding one sugar into his. They sat on their sofa, sipping their tea, his arm wrapped around her slender waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“How was your day, Teddy?” she asked him.

“Quite good – except Gordon confronted me today,” he admitted. He could feel her tense up.

“What did he say?” she asked.

“He asked me if we were really engaged, and I told him that no, we weren’t – we are married,” Teddy replied.

“And what happened?” she asked him curiously.

“He was absolutely stunned,” Teddy laughed. She joined in.

They finished their cups of tea and Teddy brought the tea tray back into the kitchen. He washed the dishes while Jean took the chicken out of the stove. When he was finished with the dishes, he set the table while she made a salad. When their meal was ready, she brought it in to the dining room and they sat down to a wonderful dinner.

When they finished their supper, Teddy brought their dishes into the kitchen.

“I’ll wash the dishes, Jean,” he told her as she tried to help him.

“All right,” she agreed. “I’ll get ready for bed, then,” she said, smiling seductively. He returned her smile.

“I’ll be up in a few minutes, my darling,” he said, kissing her lightly.

“All right,” she said, walking upstairs.

While Teddy quickly washed the dishes, Jean walked upstairs and got undressed, wrapping herself in a large feathered shawl, hiding in the closet as she heard her husband come up the stairs.

“Jean?” he called. “Jean, where are you?”

She didn’t reply, but watched from the closet as he sighed and sat down on the bed, taking off his clothes and climbing under the covers. He picked up a book and began to read. She walked out of the closet, and Teddy looked up from his book.

“Jean,” he breathed, setting his book aside and getting out of bed. She smiled coyly at him as he approached her, and he chased her around the room as she giggled. He finally caught her and pushed her back on the bed, falling on top of her.

She continued to giggle as he pulled the shawl away from her body. “Teddy!” she laughed as he began kissing her.

“You are so naughty, Jean; such a naughty little minx!” he exclaimed.

“And you love it, don’t you?” she said coyly.

“You know that I do,” he replied, his voice deep with passion. She wiggled out of his embrace once more and pulled the shawl tightly around her, running up to the attic. He followed her.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he called, climbing the stairs to the attic.

She was lying on an old couch, posed like Modigliani’s painting “Red Nude”.

“Jean,” he moaned, kneeling at her feet. She pulled him up onto the couch.

“Teddy,” she sighed happily as he began to kiss her passionately. “Oh, Teddy!” she cried out as he finally entered her.

“Yes, Jean, yes!” he yelled out as he pumped into her.

“Teddy!” she cried out once more as they came. He held her close to him.

“Mmm, Jean,” he murmured, inhaling her unique fragrance, a blend of rose and lilac scents. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Teddy,” she said.

He picked her up and wrapped her in the shawl before carrying her downstairs to their bedroom. She let the shawl drop on the floor and they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

[kissofdeath]

aww. little jean and teddy babies!

loved the update! can't wait till the next one!

~kissofdeath

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Nine

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Don't worry - it's NOT the last chapter!
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The next two weeks passed rather uneventfully. Finally the last day of the school year came, and Teddy packed up his classroom and said goodbye to the teachers and students for the last time. Sandy was once more waiting for him in his classroom.

“So you are leaving Marcia Blaine,” she said.

“Yes, I am. I resigned in protest of Jean’s dismissal,” he replied, pleased when she flushed embarrassedly.

“Are you still going to marry her?” Sandy asked derisively.

“No,” Teddy said, just as he had responded to Gordon’s similar question. “We’re already married.”

“What?!” Sandy shrieked. This time he was prepared for her attack, and he grabbed her by her wrists, holding her away from him.

“Goodbye, Sandy,” he said, releasing her and pushing her away. He gathered the box of his things and left the classroom, leaving her behind, looking after him, utterly flabbergasted.

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When he arrived at home, he found his wife preparing dinner. “Hello, darling,” he said, coming around behind her and kissing her on the cheek. She turned and kissed him on the lips.

“Hello, Teddy,” she said, smiling. “How was your last day?”

“It went surprisingly well – except that Sandy was waiting for me in my classroom before I could leave. She tried to hit me again,” he said.

“Oh, my poor darling!” she exclaimed, placing a hand on his cheek. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Jean,” he reassured her, slipping his arms around her waist. “Mostly fine, at least.”

“Can I do anything to make it better?” she asked him.

His eyes twinkled. “Oh, yes,” he said, pulling her against him. “You could kiss it and make it better,” he told her, smiling.

“What needs my attention?” she asked him. He smiled and took her hand, guiding it down to his erection.

“D’you think that you could take care of this?” he asked her. She returned his smile, her eyes growing darker as she took his hand and led him upstairs, shedding their clothes along the way.

“Mmm, Teddy,” she sighed happily as he pressed her up against the wall outside of their room.

“I need you now, I need you now,” he groaned, insinuating one of his legs between hers.

“Oh Teddy, Teddy,” she moaned, wrapping one of her legs around his hips. He gripped her hips as he drove into her.

“Jean, Jean, Jean,” he yelled out, pumping into her. “Yes, Jean, yes!”

“Teddy, my darling, darling, Teddy!” she cried, gripping his shoulders tightly.

He rested his head on her shoulder as they recovered from their climax, before slipping out of her and setting her on her feet.

“Mmm, I love you, Jean,” he whispered to her.

“I love you, too,” she replied.

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Later that evening, they sat down to dinner and discussed their plans for the future.

“When do you want to start preparing for the exhibition?” she asked him.

“Why don’t we start next week?” he suggested.

“All right,” she agreed.

“I just want to spend time with you this weekend...” he said suggestively.

“And I just want to spend time with you,” she said, taking his hand and leading him upstairs to their bedroom once again.

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The summer passed quickly for them – they spent much of the hot summer days in his studio. Some of the time was spent in painting (him) and posing (her), but much of their time was spent making love. His exhibition was scheduled for January, and they did get quite a few portraits finished, though they spent much of their time in bed.

Near the end of the summer, Jean got some exciting news, and she prepared a special dinner to celebrate. They sat down to a meal of lasagne Verde, veal, sweetbreads à la Milanese... she poured all of her cooking skills into the meal, which they both enjoyed immensely. After they finished dinner, Jean took her husband by the hand and led him upstairs.

They undressed each other slowly, and she pushed him down onto the bed. They caressed each other tenderly and lovingly, and she guided his cock into her.

“Oh, I love you Jean,” he groaned as she rode him.

“Teddy!” she cried out as she began to come. “Oh yes, Teddy, yes!”

“Jean, Jean, Jean!” he shouted, pulling her down on top of him one final time. She collapsed on top of him, and he held her close to him.

“Teddy?” she whispered.

“Yes, Jean?” he replied, his eyes closed, as he enjoyed holding his wife close to him.

“We’re going to have a baby,” she said, propping herself up on her elbow as she looked down at him.

His eyes popped open – he saw her smiling yet anxious face peering down at him. “Really?” he asked her.

“Yes, really,” she replied a trifle nervously.

He broke out into a huge smile and brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Oh, Jean,” he whispered, tears coming to his eyes. “Jean, my darling – really?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she nodded, tears coming to her eyes as well. He wiped them away.

“I love you, Jean Lloyd,” he whispered, pulling her down for a kiss. She smiled against his lips. Breaking the kiss, he rolled her onto her back so that he could examine her stomach, which he could tell was slightly rounded.

“When are you due?” he asked her.

“The middle of February,” she told him.

He looked up at her in surprise. “That soon?” he questioned her. “You’re already three months along? When did you find out?” he asked.

“I only found out this morning,” she said. “I had suspected that I was pregnant,” she blushed, “for about a month now, but I went to the doctor’s to make sure, and I got the results back this morning.”

“My darling, darling Jean,” he whispered, stroking her hair, holding her close to him. He slipped an arm around her waist and rested his palm against her slightly protruding stomach. She snuggled up to her husband and rested her head on his shoulder, laying her hand on top of his. “I love you so much, Jean,” he told her, kissing her lips repeatedly.

“And I love you too, Teddy,” she replied. “I’m so glad that we’re going to have a baby.”

“As am I, sweetheart, as am I,” he said, holding her closer. “I can’t believe how lucky we are,” he continued.

“Nor can I,” she said. “Nor can I.”

They fell asleep that night wrapped in each other’s arms, both incredibly happy and content, looking forward to their future.

[kissofdeath]

awww! jean and teddy are going to have a baby!

its going to be so gorgeous! have you seen Maggie's sons? They are so HOT!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Ten

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This story won't be updated as often as it has been, as I'm participating in NaNoWriMo, and am really committed to winning this year.

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Teddy slipped out of bed early the next morning and went to the grocer’s to buy the ingredients for his wife’s favourite breakfast – flour, eggs, sugar, milk, vanilla, bacon, and orange juice. He also bought a dozen red roses. When he finished the shopping, he returned to the house and began to cook his wife’s breakfast – Belgian waffles, bacon, and eggs; with a pot of Earl Grey tea, a tall glass of milk, and a pitcher of orange juice. He put the roses in a vase and placed the breakfast on a tray, which he then brought up to the bedroom.

Jean was still asleep, lying on her stomach, arms and legs sprawled akimbo on top of the sheets. He set the tray down on the nightstand and began to stroke her hair. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering, and woke up.

“Good morning, Jean,” he whispered, continuing to stroke her hair.

“Good morning, Teddy,” she murmured, stretching her arms as she yawned. He smiled down at her, placing a hand on her slightly swelling stomach.

“I’ve made you some breakfast, my love,” he said.

She sat up in bed and he propped several pillows behind her back. Pulling the covers up over her, he shed his clothes and slipped beneath the covers as well, bringing the tray with him.

“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed as she saw the breakfast he had prepared for her, which included all of her favourite foods. “And roses!” she cried in delight, clapping her hands together when she saw the vase of red roses. “Thank you, Teddy,” she told him sincerely, bringing her hand to his cheek, bringing him down for a light kiss.

They fed each other breakfast, and when they had finished, Teddy brought the dishes downstairs and washed them, while Jean drew a bath. She sighed in contentment as the hot water caressed her body. Her breasts were more tender than they had been, and her joints ached slightly as well. The hot water soothed her aches and pains, and she emerged from the tub relaxed and refreshed.

Teddy was downstairs, arranging the portraits for his exhibition. She joined him in the parlour and watched as he laid the seven portraits against the wall.

The first one was the first one he had painted of her, so many years ago. The next one was the one he had painted the morning after their reunion, of her lying in the narrow bed he kept in his studio. The third portrayed her sitting in the window of his studio, looking out onto Edinburgh; the fourth showed her reading a book. The fifth was of her reading a book; the sixth portrayed her sitting on the swing that hung from the old oak tree in their backyard. The seventh showed her sitting under the same oak tree, napping. She hadn’t realised he had painted her at that time, and told him so.

“I couldn’t resist, my darling,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You are so beautiful; so, so beautiful,” he said, punctuating each affirmation of her beauty with a kiss, causing her knees to weaken. His arm around her waist supported her, and he guided her to the couch, continuing to kiss her.

“Mmm, Teddy,” she moaned, twining her fingers into his soft hair as he pulled her dressing gown away from her body. He began to fondle her breasts, more tenderly than usual – and from the grateful expression on her face, he knew that she appreciated his gentler touch. They continued to caress each other tenderly until they were both on the brink of climaxing, when he finally guided himself into her. “Teddy!” she moaned.

“Jean, Jean, Jean,” he cried out her name as he pounded within her. “Jean, Jean, Jean!”

“Oh, God!” she moaned as she began to come. He climaxed a few moments later. They lay in each other’s arms, holding each other, arms and legs tangled together.

“Teddy, my dear,” she whispered, propping herself up on her elbow, raking her slender fingers through his dark hair.

“Yes?” he asked her, cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I have a secret to tell you,” she said.

“Really? What is it?” he asked her curiously, caressing her cheek.

“It’s quite serious, Teddy,” she said, her sombre tone belied by the twinkle in her eye.

“Yes?” he questioned her.

“I love you,” she whispered, kissing him again.

He smiled at her. “I have a secret to tell you as well,” he told her.

“Yes?” she asked him, smiling.

“I love you too,” he said.

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Teddy finished two more portraits within the next month – his exhibition would have fifteen portraits. The eighth portrait portrayed her writing a letter, a quill pen tickling her lips; the ninth portrait had her cradling their neighbour’s cat in her arms. He began the tenth portrait as she entered the fourth month of her pregnancy. For the tenth portrait, she lay in the hammock that he had strung from their back porch, reading.

He had never enjoyed painting – or life, for that matter – more than he had in those months – he had finally reclaimed Jean Brodie’s – no, Jean Lloyd’s – love, had gotten a divorce from his wife, and had married Jean, the love of his life; and they would be welcoming their first child into the world in February. He was now finally able to paint her, the woman who had been his Muse for years.

The fourth month of her pregnancy was one of the happiest times of her life as well. She loved posing for Teddy – she loved being with him. And their baby was growing inside of her – the baby that was conceived in an expression of their love for each other. She loved feeling the baby move in her, loved having Teddy rest his hand on her burgeoning stomach to feel their child kick, loved everything about their child. Many years ago, she had wanted to have children with Hugh, but Hugh had fallen on Flanders’ Field, and never returned. And she had never loved Hugh as much as she had loved Teddy – her love for Hugh had never had the chance to blossom and mature, for he had died before they had had the chance to really grow to love each other. But Teddy... even from the moment they had met, her attraction to him had been much stronger than even her attraction to Hugh had been. And over the years, her attraction to him had only grown stronger, deepening into love – he truly was the love of her life. She had never been happier in her life – she was married to the man she loved more than anything; she was expecting his child; and, while she was betrayed by one of her girls, if she had not been forced to resign from Marcia Blaine, she would not have been carrying Teddy’s child – so despite her resignation, these months were the happiest of her life. She never wanted them to end.

[kissofdeath]

awwww. seriously, that baby is going to be really good looking.

I'm still working on my fic. I'll try to have it sent to you later on today.

~kissofdeath

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Eleven

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As the fifth month of her pregnancy began, Jean and Teddy started taking long walks around Edinburgh so that Jean could get some exercise every day. On one of their walks, they saw Sandy Stranger.

Jean and Teddy tried to avoid her, and they thought that they had succeeded, but unknown to them, she followed them back to their house. She climbed the old oak tree that was located in their backyard, and she watched them through the window.

She had betrayed Jean Brodie, hoping to make her as unhappy as she was – but it had failed. Miss Brodie was even happier than she had been when she was teaching – Jean Brodie was married to the one love of her life, and, if Sandy’s eyes were not mistaken, she was carrying his child.

Sandy was unhappy because she was in love with Jean Brodie – Jean Brodie, who was in love with Teddy Lloyd. She had been jealous that Jean had thought that Jenny should be Teddy’s lover – Jenny, while pretty, had no other redeeming qualities. She was jealous of Jean’s love for Jenny – that jealousy had been eating at her for years, ever since Jean had said that Jenny was a part of herself. That was why she had betrayed her – jealousy; sheer, unadulterated jealousy. She wanted Jean to suffer, but Jean was not suffering as she deserved. Sandy needed to change that.

Climbing down from the tree, she made her way back to her house. She needed to plan what she would do next. Just before she reached her home, she was struck by a brilliant idea. She hurried up to her room and began to write a letter to Gordon Lowther.

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“Do you think that she saw us?” Jean asked when they were in their parlour, seated on the couch in front of the fire.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “She would have stopped us if she had, I think,” he continued.

“I’m glad she did not see us,” she said, placing her hand on her stomach. “I don’t trust her – I don’t know how I could ever have trusted her. I can’t believe that if she did see us, she wouldn’t have done something awful.”

“It is all right, Jean,” Teddy soothed her. “She did not see us – it is all right. Everything will be all right.”

“I hope so,” Jean said. “But I feel as though something is about to go wrong – everything is going so well, I can’t believe that it can continue like this...”

“Don’t think like that, my darling,” he begged her. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t help it, Teddy – I feel such a strange sense of foreboding...” she trailed off.

“No matter what happens, my darling,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I will always love you. Never forget that.”

“And I will always love you,” she said, entwining her fingers with his. She rested her head on his shoulder as he placed his free hand on her abdomen. They sat there until she fell asleep, and then he carried her up to bed.

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Meanwhile, Sandy was busy writing a brief letter to Gordon Lowther.

Mr. Lowther,

I have it on very good authority that Jean Brodie is pregnant with your child.

-A well-wisher

She sealed the letter and wrote Mr. Lowther’s address on the envelope. Even though she knew that it was a lie, it was a way to break up the marriage of Jean Brodie and Teddy Lloyd; it was a way to make Jean unhappy.

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The next afternoon, Gordon Lowther received the letter. Upon reading it, all the blood left his face and he began to panic. Was that the real reason she had been dismissed from Marcia Blaine?

“Heather?” he called upstairs to his wife, the former Miss Lockhart. “I’ve got to go out for a bit – I’ll be back for dinner.”

She came downstairs. “All right, Gordon,” she said. Noticing his odd expression, she asked, “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, everything’s fine, dear,” he lied, kissing her on her forehead. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” He grabbed his coat and drove to Teddy Lloyd’s house. When he arrived, he took a few deep breaths before knocking at his door. Teddy answered it.

“Lowther?” he asked, surprised to see him there. “What do you want?”

“I need to see Jean,” he told Teddy.

“Why?” Teddy asked, suspicious.

“I need to see her,” he repeated stubbornly, refusing to answer his question.

As Teddy opened his mouth to argue, Jean stepped into the hall.

“Gordon!” she gasped, one hand reflexively flying to her throat while the other rested on her burgeoning abdomen.

“It is true,” he said, pushing past Teddy and walking to Jean. She stepped away from him, frightened.

“Jean, why did you not tell me?” he asked her.

“Tell you what?”

“That you are pregnant,” he said, backing her against a wall. Teddy closed the front door and stepped behind Gordon, pulling him away from Jean.

“Why is that any of your business?” he asked Gordon.

“I think the real question is why it is any of yours,” the music teacher said. “I know that it’s my child.”

Jean fainted.

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When she came to, she was lying on the couch in the parlour, both Teddy and Gordon looking down at her, worried.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Jean?” Gordon asked her again, placing his hand on her stomach. She flinched.

“This child isn’t yours, Gordon,” she said. “Why would you even think that it was?” she asked.

“I got this letter today,” he said, pulling the letter out of his jacket pocket. Teddy took it out of his hand.

Teddy read the letter aloud. “Mr. Lowther, I have it on very good authority that Jean Brodie is pregnant with your child. A well-wisher.” He handed the letter to Jean. As she read the brief missive, her face went pale.

“It’s Sandy’s handwriting,” Jean whispered, letting the letter drop to the floor. She covered her eyes with one hand. “Oh, God, I knew something bad was going to happen,” she moaned. Teddy embraced her.

“It’s not my child?” Gordon asked, his face falling.

Jean shook her head. “No, it’s not.”

“I see,” Gordon said, standing. He left their house without another word to them.

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Later that evening, while they were eating dinner, Teddy would not look at her, even when she was speaking to him. When she went upstairs to take a bath, he did not join her, but rather stayed downstairs.

Was it really his child? he asked himself. Or was it Gordon’s? He didn’t know.

[KristaMarie]

Aww no he has to know it's his!

Love the update, and while I know you are busy with that fabulous novel of yours, I can't wait for you to continue!

[kissofdeath]

ooh the plot thickens!

loved the update hon!

~kissofdeath

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Twelve


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A/N: Not the last chapter, don't worry!
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Jean lay in bed, waiting for her husband to join her, but she had a sinking suspicion that he would not be joining her any time soon. She knew that the baby was Teddy’s – the last time she had made love to Gordon was seven months ago, and she was only five months pregnant.

She could not wait any longer for him to come upstairs, so she slipped into her dressing gown and went downstairs to find him.

“Teddy?” she called. There was no answer. She looked for him everywhere, but he was not there. Returning to their bedroom, she collapsed on the bed, sobbing.

How could he believe that she was carrying Gordon’s child? How could he believe that she would lie to him about that? Didn’t he trust her?

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Teddy had fled to his studio, wanting to get away from his wife so that he could think. Unfortunately, his studio was littered with paintings of her – he turned them all to the wall so that he could not see her face – the face which he had loved so much, but now he was so confused.

“No matter what happens, my darling,” he had said to her earlier that evening, “I will always love you. Never forget that.”

Was it true now? Yes, it was still true, but could he bear to be around her any longer when he did not know if the child was his or Gordon’s?

He pulled a bottle of red wine out of the pantry, and filled a large glass. He sat at his table and rested his head in his hands. How could she have done this to him? The glass of wine quickly disappeared, and he poured another, and another, and yet another, before stumbling to the bed that he kept in the studio. He collapsed on top of the bed sheets and fell into a deep, drunken sleep. He was so drunk that he forgot to lock the door, and he did not hear Sandy come in. She undressed him, and then undressed herself, before crawling into bed with him. She knew that Jean would be around first thing in the morning to look for Teddy, and she wanted Jean to see her husband as a philandering, uncaring man.

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At seven o’clock the next morning, Jean woke up after a restless night’s sleep. She had been too tired the night before to go to the studio, but she knew that he would be there. Getting dressed, she walked the three blocks to the studio.

She mounted the stairs slowly and was forced to stop at every landing. She finally reached his studio and unlocked the door, stepping inside. She stopped dead when she saw her husband in bed with Sandy Stranger, both of them absolutely naked.

She screamed, causing them both to wake up.

“Jean?” Teddy asked her, wincing, his voice still slurred from last night’s alcohol binge. He suddenly noticed the naked girl in bed beside him. “Wha’ ’r you doin’ here?” he asked her.

Jean stumbled backwards out of the studio, fleeing the building. Teddy lurched out of bed, trying to follow her.

“Jean!” he cried. She did not turn around, but stumbled out of the building as quickly as she could. Teddy collapsed at the top of the stairs.

“Wha’ ’ve I done?” he asked himself, collapsing in sobs just inside of his studio. Unnoticed by him, Sandy slipped in to her clothes and left as quietly as she had came, closing the door behind her.

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Jean did not know where to go – she had no friends, no family, and no place to call home. So she went back to the house she had shared with Teddy and collapsed in their bed, sobbing.

She could not believe that Teddy would cheat on her – especially with Sandy, the girl who had started it all. The memory of it kept playing back in her head, and she frowned – something wasn’t right. “Wha’ ’r you doin’ here?” he had asked Sandy. Teddy never forgot things when he got drunk – and she would not put it past Sandy to try to break up their marriage, just as she had ruined her teaching career.

Slowly but surely, her sobs abated, and she rubbed her stomach soothingly. Their baby had been kicking frenetically – Jean should not have allowed herself to get so worked up – she might hurt the baby. She was a bit old to be having her first child, at any rate – she was already thirty-five – and she did not want to miscarry.

Jean went into the bathroom to take a hot bath, which helped to soothe her. After her bath she made herself breakfast and then went back to bed, even though it was only nine o’clock in the morning, and fell deeply asleep.

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Several hours later, Teddy stumbled home. He was not still drunk, but he had the most awful hangover. Making his way upstairs, he stopped at their bedroom door. What would he say to her? What if she didn’t believe him? He felt so guilty, even though he knew that he had not slept with Sandy. He pushed open the door, and stopped at the foot of their bed, his heart contracting with guilt as he looked upon his wife’s sleeping form, tearstains marring her porcelain skin.

He knelt at the side of the bed and placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “Jean,” he called her name softly. She stirred, opening her eyes.

“Teddy?” she whispered.

“Jean, I am so sorry – ” he began.

“Teddy, it’s not Gordon’s child – ” she said at the same time.

They stopped talking. “You first, Jean,” he said.

“It’s not Gordon’s child,” she repeated. “The last time I slept with Gordon was seven months ago. It’s your child, Teddy,” she said, rubbing her stomach. Tentatively, he rested his hand on top of hers, looking into her eyes.

“I did not sleep with Sandy, Jean,” he said quietly.

“I know you did not,” she replied gently, stroking his hair. He looked up at her. “She’s trying to ruin our marriage, just as she ruined my teaching career.”

“Jean, I am so sorry that I didn’t believe you,” he said. “I am so, so sorry.”

“I know, my darling,” she said, continuing to stroke his hair.

“I love you, Jean,” he said. “I love you with all my heart.”

“And I love you, Teddy,” she replied. She yawned, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Why don’t you join me?” she suggested, crawling back under the covers. He kicked off his shoes and joined her in bed, wrapping his arms around her.

“I do love you, Jean,” he said, kissing her.

“And I love you, Teddy,” she replied, kissing him back. “I do.” She yawned again, snuggling up against him. He rested a hand on her stomach, feeling their child kick inside of her.

He kissed her again and fell asleep.

[KristaMarie]

Yay you updated!! And good thing this isn't the last chapter-- I would have been uber sad!

[kissofdeath]

aww. I agree w/ KristaMarie. I would have been bummed out if this fic was over.

Btw, just curious, but how old was Jean supposed to have been in the movie?

[dianahawthorne]

It doesn't say her age in the movie, but I'm putting it at 35. She's supposed to be about 45 in the book at the age of her retirement, I think.