The Price of Family

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

By DJ Clawson

Chapter 5 – The d'Arcys of Normandy

Preparations began immediately for the Darcys to leave. Time was obviously of the essence, as it might cost two months to find Mr. Mastai-Ferretti, and then more time to either drag him back to England (unlikely) or send a letter with the news of finding him and awaiting its return. All in all, the Darcys imagined that they could be gone for several months, back hopefully in time for the births, which would probably be in weeks of each other.

"I will be honest with you," Darcy said to his father-in-law. "The best we can hope for is a considerable settlement, if his family is so inclined. As I understand he is only sixteen, he may not be entitled to his own monies. I am not sure the age of majority in Italy, offhand, and if he is already a priest, it would be even more complicated."

"That I've already realized," Mr. Bennet said. "Whether you wish to tell Lizzy this or not is your own discretion. I have no intention of telling anyone else the expected outcome."

So it was decided. Though Elizabeth was loathe to be separated from Geoffrey, who obviously could not travel with them without slowing them down considerably, he was almost three now, and Darcy assured her that he was quite old enough to be on his own for a bit, and that it might even do him some good. "We do have a general tendency to spoil him."

"And you think Bingley will not?"

He only smiled at her from behind his desk, where he was gathering the papers he thought he would need.

"You don't think there's any chance of having Mr. Ferretti return to England wish us, do you?" she said.

"No," he answered. "I will not incite unreasonable expectations. If we can even locate him in time, he will probably either have taken vows or be so intending to take him that our best hope is a settlement."

"He did offer her something in France."

"I imagine now that he is faced with her family, perhaps even throttling his collared neck, he will offer more," he said. "How much, I have no idea. The point is, we will not let this injustice pass by."

This answer she seemed satisfied by, and left him for the moment to return to her own packing. He had no further intrusion until there was a knock on the open door. "Come."

It was Mrs. Reynolds, not an unexpected face in the hurry of packing, as the Master and Mistress of Pemberley were to go on a long and unexpected journey. "Master Darcy."

"Mrs. Reynolds."

"I seem to recall – it's been some time since you've been to the Continent."

"Yes," he said. "I went only once, after college, and before my father's death. I was not particular enamored of it. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering – do you intend to stop at the mansion in Valognes?"

"The Rue des Capuchins?" It had been the old d'Arcy Estate, or so the history went, generations back, and had been held by very distant relatives of his until the Revolution, when they fled their home. Now it was taken by some imported English family with a military officer at the head, who had taken a liking to it while stationed there to fight Napoleon. He had been there for a few days in their company during his journey, and they held him in esteemed stature. "I suppose we would shelter there for a night or two. I admit to not having a formal itinerary at the moment, but if it is on the way, then yes." He thought about it. "Why do you ask?"

"Well – it's probably nothing, Master, but I do recall your father mentioning to senior Mr. Wickham that he had some financial papers there of some import. They may have been burned in the revolution, I don't know. I was just askin' if you know anything about it."

Darcy stopped his work for a second and looked up at her. "No. I mean, yes, there are piles and piles of old papers there going back centuries, because the mansion itself was not burned in any way when my relatives fled, but I did not peruse them while I was there, nor was I told to by my father." But come to think of it, that was before his father's death, and before his illness, so the young Master Fitzwilliam was given a year to explore and have fun before settling down to the serious matters of learning to be the real master of Pemberley and Derbyshire. So might not have mentioned it, or Darcy might have simply forgotten it and so had his father. "I suppose, if there is time, I will look into it. Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds."

She curtseyed and let herself out. It was not until he was returned to his sorting that the oddity of the conversation descended on him.

"I don't understand," Elizabeth said later that night, in their bedchamber. Or, properly, her bedchamber. "Why do you find that so odd?"

"Despite being the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds is not involved in the financials of Pemberley," he explained. "Her knowledge extends to a certain idea of how much the servants beneath her in the house are paid, and at times, I have asked her advice on deciding on the salary of a new employee, as she is given the task of choosing certain ones herself, but I always make the decision and do not always tell her. The only way she would even know of what she spoke of is if she happened upon a conversation between my father and his steward, or if my father specifically told her for some reason that I cannot imagine. More to the point, I have never in my life been approached by Mrs. Reynolds about anything financial to my family. About hiring and firing hands, yes. But my father's personal accounts?" He shook his head. "It was just an odd thing for her to do."

"Are you saying there is something else to it?"

He smiled. "You are always a step ahead of me."

"I thought in some countries, wives walk two steps behind their husbands."

"Thank G-d then that we are not in one of those countries."

He climbed into bed with her, still temporarily dressed.

"Do you think it will be all right with Geoffrey? To leave him now?"

"We will not be gone so terribly long," he assured. "And he is certainly old enough. Who knows, it may do him some good."

"Are you implying something is wrong with our son?"

"Well, it's not from my side."

"I thought we established that it was?" She kissed him on the head. "Colonel Fitzwilliam implied that it was not, in fact, from the Bennet lineage, and that you were quite the savage in your days as a child."

"Clearly, then, I cannot allow you to visit my cousins again, because Richard is spreading bad rumors about me that are entirely untrue." He swallowed. "Or may be true. To some extent. Perhaps."

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps. And that is all I will say on the matter."

As she settled down on her side of the bed, Elizabeth added, "You do not have to do this, you know. Just because of your history of being our family's white knight, you are not obligated to save Mary from her own stupidity."

"She is my sister, and therefore, I do feel the obligation. And I doubt I can 'save her' if that is what you mean. But this is for you as well, Lizzy. Surely you realize that. Since you have never been out of England – "

"I have been to Scotland."

He smiled. " – Never been out of Britain, and are available to travel, why not? When will we have this opportunity again, even if our travels will be a bit rushed? I should think you would like to see some of the glorious sites – " but that was when he noticed the shift in mood, and the tears slipping out her eyes like stray water over glass. "Lizzy – "

But she leaned over, and could not back her sobs into his nightshirt. When others had cried over the situation with Mary, she had not. She had held it in, perhaps feeling some obligation to do so. But he knew very well it was not entirely Mary she was crying over. "I love you."

"That does not change it. It does not change why ... why I am so available."

He frowned, but she didn't see it, leaning on his shoulder as she was. He frowned because he didn't know how to answer her. "Lizzy, you have already given me everything I could ever want in my life. No more is required of you."

"Very well then. So my life is about giving to you? What about what I want?"

That, he could not give her.

"We both – we both know you are perfectly fine," he said. "And that – it is only a matter of time. And the traveling will be good for everything, I believe. Good for us, good for Mary, good for Geoffrey ... Good for everyone. Can you not see that? That is why we are going, not to get money from some Italian bishop."

This, she seemed to at least her, because she pulled away from their tight embrace, and was no longer sobbing. "I'm sorry. I'm being a foolish girl."

"No, you are being a heartbroken woman, which is a very mature position to be in, and something all mothers must suffer, and all husbands have to apparently sit by helplessly and wish we could mend, but we can't. On this, I cannot be the white knight – though, I am willing to try very hard." He kissed her hand. "Lizzy."

She laughed, and the mood in the room changed. The heaviness was gone, at least for a time, as she wiped her eyes and kissed him. "And we have the added benefit that upon our return, our son will be his normal color."

"Or another one entirely."

Packed and ready as they would be, the Darcys returned to Pemberley, carrying Geoffrey's things, as he would be staying with his aunt and uncle, if very reluctantly. Normally happy to visit them, this time he had to be dragged out of Pemberley quite physically by his father and his nurse. But at last they did arrive, and the final preparations could be made, so they could depart to Town, and then take a ship to France from there. The route would vary based on information collected on the road, and a guide would be hired, so Darcy had his steward free up a good amount of cash. There was also getting all of the specifics of this man - Giovanni Maria Mastai-Ferretti – from Mary, as she knew them. He would likely be in Rome or in his home province of Sinigallia for the summer. Doctor Maddox noted that Rome itself was a hot, unpleasant city in the summer months and that most wealthy people retreated to villas elsewhere, often including the Pope himself. Mr. Bennet was not willing to let Mary out of his sight, and would stay at Kirkland, but Mrs. Bennet and Kitty would return to Longbourn until the Confinement, giving the appearance that all was well. The Maddoxes would also be in Town until Caroline's own Confinement and possibly during, as the good doctor was tied to London by his work.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy, you are so good to us," Mrs. Bennet said. "And to Lizzy. Keep her safe on those roads."

"It will be my first duty, Mrs. Bennet."

Mary had one last thing for them – a rosary, obviously Catholic and not Anglican. "From him. If you need to prove who you are. I didn't ask for it – I don't use it – but he gave it to me." It was a fine item too, with a tiny silver Jesus on the cross, and the beads a beautiful red.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet," he said, and bowed to Mary.

And so three couples and two children departed for Town, as the Bingleys insisted on seeing the Darcys all the way to the wharf. And so, with many tearful good-byes, they were finally off, to Town at least, where there would be one last person to say good-bye too – Georgiana Darcy.

"You will take care," Darcy said to her, standing in their townhouse, as the last vestiges of business took some two days to contract. "And if anyone – "

"We will wait for your consent."

"Good girl." He kissed her on the head.

"So you have finally agreed that I may eventually get married? Maybe Elizabeth has softened you, brother."

He smiled. "No, I just decided that I would not want your beautiful hair hidden under one of those horrible black nun habits."

"Now you are toying with me!"

"Perhaps. Do you wish me to get out my sword and have my manservant hold it up in front of you in my absence instead?"

"It would be more familiar, but no, Darcy."

It was then that Mrs. Maddox appeared. "Daniel will be on his way in a moment. But we wish to give you this, Darcy." She handed him a book, very small and old, with its title worm off from obvious use. He flipped it open, and found a stamp of the seal of the earldom of Maddox on the inside cover. It was a travel-sized book of Italian words and phrases, very light and usable. "He says he can no longer read the print, so it is as good as yours."

"I am honored," he said, knowing full well how much Doctor Maddox treasured his books and his eyesight, the latter of which was - as Darcy had been told privately - in slow deterioration.

The doctor did quickly appear, to wish them well, and give them a paper full of various contacts they could use and places to stay in France and Italy. "I don't know how good they'll be. They're a bit out-of-date. But if you use even one..." He shrugged. "I wish to be of more help than that."

"I think you are needed more here," Darcy said, patting him on the shoulder. "Good luck, doctor."

"I would say the same to you."

"But we mean it for different things. Now if you excuse us, our ship leaves at noon."

"Brother! Must you go today?" Georgiana begged.

"The sooner we leave, the sooner we will be home."

And so they said their good-byes, and took a carriage with the awaiting Bingleys to the wharf. "I expect you to be a proper gentlemen when I return," Darcy said to his son. "But I will not hold my breath, for my own sake."

His blue son scowled at him. "I want to go!"

"And one day, you will. But not today. It's not safe."

"If it's not safe for me, why is it safe for Mother?"

"Because your mother is one tough woman," he said, and noticed the glare from Elizabeth. "I meant it as a compliment!"

Elizabeth shook her head and shooed him away, kneeling so she was face-level with her son. "Be a good boy to your aunt and uncle. I know you have it in you, and they will be so worried for us, you should not tax them. Look at you," she said, straightening his hair, which was just a darker hue of blue from the rest of his body. "All grown up. And ... Martian." She hugged him. "And keep an eye on Georgie. She ... we worry about her."

"Why?" Geoffrey said.

"Because – she doesn't talk."

Her son's expression was bemused. "She talks to me."

They were out of earshot to the Bingleys, who were talking to Darcy, and so Elizabeth looked up at them, and back at her son, and whispered, "She does? Like normal people?"

"Of course. Only, she told me not to tell."

"Why would she do that?"

Geoffrey shrugged.

"Well, when someone makes you promise something ... I suppose you ought to keep it," she said. "So it will be our secret for now. But do tell her to say something to her parents. Will you promise me that?"

He nodded. He was so adorable when he did that. He was so adorable when he did everything, and she would miss ... She could not imagine it. It was too painful.

"Mummy," he said, as was not proper, and he had not called her since his infancy, "please don't cry."

"I promise," she said, and kissed him on the cheek again. "Not, too much, at least. I love you."

But she had to part from him. She stood up, and hand-in-hand, they walked to the others, as the plank came down for the ship. "So very small," Jane said, remarking on the size of the ship as she held onto Georgie.

"Well, the Continent is not actually very far. I hear you can swim it," Bingley said. But to them, it was worlds away. He turned him to Darcy, who took him aside, as the sisters said their goodbyes.

"Best of luck," he said, offering his hand, but in it, Darcy placed a set of keys. "What are these?"

"The master keys to Pemberley. I know you don't need them to get in, but do put them somewhere safe." Darcy looked uncomfortable, almost as if he was at a ball or something. "Bingley, I'm sorry for dragging you to Town to sign the papers for my will – "

"I'm honored," Bingley said, leaving out at least vocally that Geoffrey Darcy would go to his care until he reached the age of majority, should something happen to his father. These arrangements, which had to be formalized on paper with signatures and witnesses, had been done in some secrecy the day before, in a small office downtown.

"I would say, don't be too hard on the boy, but I know that it is an impossibility. So I would say, don't be too easy on him."

"Are you saying something about my parenting abilities?"

"I'm saying more about my son," he assured his brother-in-law with a slap on the back.

But it was time to descend the plank, and that could not be put off any longer. There were hugs and Georgie waved and Geoffrey pouted, but finally Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were able to board the small ship, bound for France. They waved, and between their son's skin hue and Bingley's red hair, they could get a good vision of their beloved siblings until they were almost halfway across the water.

"Five shillings says we return and they're all blue," Darcy said as he waved.

"Red," his wife said. "I'll put five shillings on red."

As England disappeared behind them, they shook on it.

Next Chapter – The Account in Question