The Price of Family

A sequel to "A Bit of Advice" and "The Question of Consent"

By DJ Clawson

Chapter 4 – Storm at Kirkland

Fortunately, as they were able to travel at greater speeds than the lumbering elder Bennets, who had not been informed of the cause of their invitation, Doctor and Mrs. Maddox arrived at Kirkland first. This was their first journey since returning to Town from their honeymoon, as the doctor's schedule kept him in London, and he seemed reluctant to take whatever salary was offered from Bingley. He had a townhouse, small but still far beyond his own means, as a gift. He would provide for his wife, though privately Charles wrote to his sister and said that if he worked himself ragged, she would start receiving checks from Kirkland anyway. And so Caroline Maddox had two dedicated men trying to satisfy her every want and need, and never looked more radiant, aside from a bit worn from the traveling. Upon their arrival, the doctor was quickly taken aside and informed they rather selfishly needed him to see Mary Bennet.

"Is she ill?"

They shrugged and pushed him in a room with Mary Bennet, a person whom he had never met, but was related to by marriage. On the other side of the door, the Bingleys and the Darcys waited. He took only a few minutes to reappear. "What do you want me to say? She's with child," he shrugged, apparently unhappy with the stares he was receiving. No, he knew the situation well enough. They wanted a magic answer, that she was along or he could – G-d forbid – do something about it. But she was too far long, and he had never once revealed the medicinal knowledge necessary in the two cases where it had been possible. "About three months. Or, if you want to go by her own recollection, three months and six days, and I am inclined to believe her." He swallowed, wanting to avoid any further questioning of how close the inspection had been. It hadn't been very close – it didn't need to be. He merely looked at the size of her belly and believed her on everything else. There was no reason to do otherwise. "I suppose the father is – "

"Gone."

"French?"

"Italian."

"He is run away to his home," Darcy said, not hiding his repulsion at the idea.

"He is promised to the church," Elizabeth said, partially countering it.

"Oh, dear," Maddox said. "Well, I'm sorry I can't be much help in this matter. I am not familiar with Derbyshire's offerings of mid-wives, and I am sure you are." He added, "I am very sorry for the uh ... circumstances, but there is nothing I can do, beyond being a supportive relation, if you wish the support."

That was not the answer they were looking for, and he knew it. So he did what he thought was best, which was to flee the room and let them think it over. He went to his chambers, which were now for the first time with Caroline, who was already there.

"I know," she said as he put his bag down and shooed the servant away. "Horrible, isn't it?"

But she did not see horrible in the way that Caroline Bingley would normally say horrible. There was, instead, a hint of sadness. Sympathy pains, perhaps? He could not imagine. He was just beginning to understand the whole of the situation himself. Clearly, they hadn't told Mr. Bennet yet, and were still devising their strategy, to lessen the blow to Mary. There was a great amount of love in this family, even for one who had so soundly ruined her life when she was entrusted with it by being sent to study abroad. It was best to assume he had just taken advantage of her, whoever this Italian was, but they both knew love was more complicated than that. Mary, as pious as she obvious was, refused to implicate him, taking the blame all unto herself, and that was bad for her health – and the health of the baby. Maybe that was the real reason he was called – to be a buffer between her and her father. This musing he expressed out loud.

"You really think so?"

"I have no idea, honestly. But they are keeping her here perhaps because she is ill to travel, or because they want to avoid the scandal as long as possible. Doesn't she have a younger sister still unmarried?"

"Catherine. They call her Kitty. A flirtatious girl if I ever met one."

"So, like you."

She smiled severely at him. "I did not know you considered me a girl."

"Hardly. But – and I mean this in the most positive way – you were flirtatious. So much so, you could not avoid the habit even around the poor servant of Mr. Hurst."

"And how lucky I was in that. But I cannot imagine the same for Mary. Poor girl."

Was this the same Caroline is he had courted and married? He had to wonder. There was something almost motherly in her tone.

Maybe this wouldn't turn out so badly after all.

The three Bennets were called to Derbyshire without any knowledge of what they were to encounter. Even though they arrived hot from an early spring heat wave and exhausted from the bump of a long carriage ride, they had to cock their heads at the site of two wild African-painted children running to greet them. "Grandfather!" said the boy who, from his proper dress and general disposition, was undoubtedly Geoffrey Darcy, despite his coloration.

He lifted his arms up with the expected to be lifted, to which a very patient and confounded Mr. Bennet said, "I'm afraid you are getting a bit big and your grandfather is getting a bit old in the back for that." To which Geoffrey frowned but still grabbed his legs enough to make him stumble a bit, only to be caught by Kitty. Mrs. Bennet was no help, because she was busy attempting to pick up who she assumed was the silent Georgiana Bingley.

"My goodness! How did we raise our children, Mr. Bennet?"

"I'm not quite sure who is responsible for this, but I may venture that our grandchildren may, in fact, shoulder some of the blame. Or all of it." He looked at Geoffrey sternly, but it was a very hard to composure to maintain when facing off with a boy whose skin was the shade of berries. "Lizzy?" For his daughter had appeared at the front door, chasing after the children, who had run out at the sight of the carrier. Her own expression was not so pleasant. He immediately patted his grandson on the head and turned his attentions to his favorite daughter. "Lizzy, whatever is the matter?"

Despite all of their advice otherwise, Mary insisted on telling on telling Mr. Bennet herself, with him sitting down in Bingley study and receiving her properly as if it were Longbourn. Darcy shrugged privately at Elizabeth's harsh look at this turn of events, saying only in a hushed voice, "It is only right. I would expect nothing less of my own children."

So, behind closed doors, Mary Bennet told the entire story. Or, she could have told him complete hogwash, because no one would venture close enough to the door to listen in. Bingley tried to, but his wife held him back. The Maddoxes, their presence for the moment unannounced, were hiding upstairs. So it was left to Elizabeth and Jane to tell their mother in the sitting room.

"Ruined! She's ruined!" Mrs. Bennet cried, and they said nothing, because it was an accurate assessment. "Oh, we never should have sent her to that dreadful country. All of that time – only to be taken advantage of by some – some Papal rogue! And now he cannot be found!" She called for another handkerchief, having used up her current stash of them. "Kitty, you are ruined as well! Oh, we should have married you to that officer!"

"Mama!" Kitty looked to her sisters for help.

"Kitty," Jane said, sitting down next to her sister protectively. "All is not lost."

"For Mary, it is. She will die an old maid now. No man in England will have her," Mrs. Bennet said. "Oh, Mary!" Even though she wasn't in the room, but that was irrelevant. She was, at the moment, enduring Mr. Bennet's rarely-used but considerable censure, surely. "Oh, thank goodness this did not happen at Longbourn, or all the neighbors would be talking. Oh, but they will soon enough! Oh, Mary!"

The last time Mrs. Bennet had wept over a sister, her daughters were had a serious of emotions, most of which were anger towards Lydia and Wickham. But Mary, by all appearances, had not acted wantonly, despite the obvious results. Her own self-admonishments only made her a more pathetic and helpless figure that they could not help but be protective of, even Mrs. Bennet, who was crying out for her daughter's desperate situation.

Her sobbing was only interrupted by the presence of Mr. Darcy, who was not noticed until he tapped on Lizzy's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "The door is open."

"Does Papa want to see anyone?"

"I believe it would be best if you were to see him. I've – called in the doctor."

"The doctor?"

He let her make her own assessment, as she ran into Bingley's study, where Doctor Maddox was taking Mr. Bennet's pulse. Her father was full of a barely-contained indignation as Mary slipped out of the room.

"Papa," Lizzy said, kneeling before him and taking his hands, which were shaking with rage.

"I do not need a doctor!" he said. "I have every reason to be furious."

Elizabeth looked at Doctor Maddox, who was looking at his pocket watch. When he was done with his count, he pulled away from his patient and said. "He is in a very agitated state."

"That I know!" said Mr. Bennet.

"Mr. Bennet, please do listen to Mrs. Darcy and take some deep breaths." With that, he bowed to him and took his leave, shutting the door behind him.

Mr. Bennet did not respond, but he did take a deep breath, and there was some silence in the room as he visibly regained his composure, or attempted to do so. "I do have every right as a father to make myself ill over this."

"As a father to Mary, perhaps. But not to the rest of us," she said gently. "Papa, please."

Mr. Bennet took one of his hands out of hers and used it to hold up his head. "What am I to do? I have ruined one of my daughters, sending her to France." He added quickly, "And don't bother me with the business of it being her own volition, because Mary tried to assign as much blame to herself as possible. She may be Out, but she my responsibility until the day she is married, and now it seems she never will be." When he looked up, there were tears in her eyes. "I have ruined her."

"Papa, you have not."

"If I'd only not let her go to France – "

"She took liberties there you did not know of – "

"But she seemed so sensible! Well, perhaps not sensible, but so religious! I thought the worst of it would be she would end up in a nunnery, and if that would make her happy, then ... so be it. I only wanted to see her happy." He have a sad smile. "I only wanted to see you all happy. I put you Out one after another, when it wasn't proper to do so. And I sent Lydia to Brighton. Oh god, if Darcy hadn't saved us all – "

"Papa, it is in the past."

"I know. I know." For once he seemed very old, and bumbling, and somewhat out of his senses. "Because even Darcy cannot save us now. Though, I thank G-d, Lizzy, you and Jane do not need saving, and Lydia is at least settled, and perhaps Kitty will survive, what with two older sisters who did well, and we shall not lose Longbourn. I have that solace, but so little it is. And even if I forgive Mary, as I will eventually manage to do, she will not forgive herself." He was now rather openly crying. "Lizzy, what am I to do?"

"I don't know," was her honest answer as she embraced him.

"Well, I suppose," he said, after training to regain his composure again, this time in a different way, "Mr. Bingley will take her in for the rest of her term and shelter us all for a time from the scandal. That may be enough time to marry off Kitty, or perhaps something else will come up. I find myself without an answer to our question. But now – I must discuss it with my sons-in-law, and I must be the properly angry father again. So, please, give me a moment, and send them in, will you, darling?"

"Of course, Papa." She kissed him on his forehead, and left the room. She needed a moment herself, before she could face the waiting crowd in the next room.

"I'm quite fine now," Mr. Bennet announced as his two sons-in-law and the physician entered the room. He shooed Maddox's attentions away, though he had clearly calmed now, if still not considerably angry. "Obviously, this is a situation with only one obvious remedy."

There was a long silence.

"I'm very sorry, but I can't go," Maddox announced.

"Daniel," Bingley said, "You had never even met Mary until this day. You can hardly be expected – "

"But I am the only one here beyond Mr. Bennet with a proficiency in Italian, and I spent a month of my life in Rome itself. So I would be the most logical choice, and Caroline would love to see the France. But she cannot travel ... right now."

"I don't see –," Darcy said, then stopped. "Were you ever going to tell us?"

"I left that up to her. After all, she has to do most of the work."

"My sister. Pregnant." Bingley was stupefied. "I don't know whether to throttle you or shake your hand, doctor."

"They are married, Bingley," Darcy reminded him. "Out of curiosity, when does her confinement begin?"

"In three months."

"In three ...," Bingley had to sit down. "You bastard. You didn't tell us."

"I told you, I left it up to her, and you know how she likes grand announcements. The only reason I tell you now is out of necessity."

"So we will have too confinements at once," Mr. Bennet said, his mood not lifted. "Congratulations, doctor. Under different circumstances, I would be more generous in my compliments. But it seems I must go to Italy now."

"Mr. Bennet, with all due respect, you know you cannot," Darcy said.

"I am not dead yet, Mr. Darcy! Despite arrangements being made otherwise."

Darcy turned to Maddox. "Please tell Mr. Bennet he cannot go."

"I am not sick!" Mr. Bennet shouted, nearly deafening them all from the shock. They had never heard him shout before, or even raise his voice, even when he was being stern.

It was only after an appropriate silence that Maddox ventured, "With respect, Mr. Bennet, I would not advise such a journey."

"And I do not recall asking you!"

"I can't go," Bingley said. "For ... obvious reasons. I can hardly leave Jane with two infants."

"Of course," Darcy said. "I will be going." He stated it like it was an already known fact that they had merely overlooked.

"Mr. Darcy!" Mr. Bennet said indignantly.

"Darcy, I have to inquire how your languages are?" Bingley said.

"My French is inexcusably abominable and my Italian is non-existent, but that's what a translator is for, and I'm sure there's at least one in the entire Continent for hire. Besides, I am clearly the only one available. Geoffrey is old enough to be on his own for a few months, and Elizabeth has never had the pleasure of seeing the Continent. So it is decided."

"It is hardly decided!" Mr. Bennet said. "I have decided on nothing. It seems all the decisions are being made without me, and this is my daughter, Mr. Darcy, not yours."

Darcy motioned to the others for privacy. He then sat down next to an infuriated Mr. Bennet, who seemed to be calming down when the room was quieter and he was digesting all of the information thrown at him.

"I will confess something to you, Mr. Bennet, if you would hear it."

"Is it about my grandchildren being blue?"

"Well, there is that, but this is more pertinent. One of the reasons I am making the offer of this considerable journey is for Elizabeth's sake. I think it would be good for her to get out after ...," even after these months, he could not bring himself to say it, and Mr. Bennet lay a hand on his.

"I had not even considered. You show a great deal of concern for Lizzy, Darcy. You have always impressed me with that. And I admit that perhaps my gallivanting across the Continent would not be ideal to my health. But I still cannot ask this of you."

"You do not have to ask."

Mr. Bennet sighed. He seemed to be coming to his senses, his fury exhausted, and now was sinking into a depression. "Is there any way I can repay you for all you have done for my family, Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes," Darcy said, rising to leave and tell the others the news. "You can do me the favor of marrying your remaining daughter off without my help."

... Nerxt Chapter – The d'Arcys of Normandy