The Price of Family
A sequel to "A Bit of Advice" and "The Question of Consent"
By DJ Clawson
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 16 – Stumbling Block
(Please note: I relied heavily on babelfish for this chapter because I don't actually know French, so if you actually know French, you may be laughing at what I wrote.)
The Darcys made haste south, as fast as the carriage would take them, often through the night until they were all equally exhausted. The roads had tried up as the weather changed and they made further south, and Grégoire did not insist on walking beside the carriage, and was eating better, so he was managing better, though he did rise earlier to hear local masses when they stopped in a town with a proper church. Despite the roughness of a carriage ride, with enough pillows, they all got very good at sleeping along the ride, and Elizabeth remarked that yes, she had seen quite enough French countryside.
As they passed beyond the reaches of real English presence, Darcy took Grégoire aside one night in yet another nameless, rundown inn. "If we are attacked, I am prepared, but I am only one man. But Elizabeth's life is paramount to me. And her honor." He did not explain what he meant by the last bit – if Grégoire missed the reference, he wasn't going to spell it out. "I'm not asking you for anything beyond translation. Obviously, I assume you are a pacifist. The church does not spill blood, does it?"
"No," Grégoire said.
"Then at least, stay behind me, for G-d forbid, something should happen."
"G-d forbid." Grégoire crossed himself.
For Darcy was more than aware of the danger of the roads. He would have a whole honor guard for his wife if not for the fact that frankly, he had little faith in his welfare in the hands of someone who fought for hire in these regions. These concerns he did not express with Elizabeth, a rarity in his case. This was his responsibility, as a husband and a gentleman, to protect his wife.
His fears were not unfounded.
They had been going through the night again, in an attempt to make Marsielle by the next morning, when they could finally rest aboard the ship that would take them to Italy. The moon provided little light and the coachmen said there was nowhere to stop for miles, so the decision was made for them. In fact, it was now so late that Darcy was asleep with Elizabeth leaning on him when the faint sound of pistol. It was in the distance, maybe even far away enough for them to remain uninvolved, or so he judged as he snapped awake. Elizabeth and Grégoire were slower risers, and without explaining anything, he dragged the monk out of the carriage, carrying his sword and pistol, neither of which he had ever used in his life beyond basic instruction. But, he was good enough with the sword, if it came to that.
"Darcy?"
He whispered, "Elizabeth, stay in the carriage."
In the woods, there was only silence. They were alone on the road, and there was a cold breeze. The coachman said something to Grégoire, who translated. "There's someone in the woods. Several people."
Darcy shielded his eyes from the lantern light, so as not to destroy his night vision. Yes, something was out there. Someone. In fact, there was movement in the woods, and it took all of Darcy's abilities as an athlete to know when to dodge and force his brother to the ground with him. The bullet meant for one of them hit the side of the carriage instead, bouncing off the metal from the axel.
It was when they were on the ground that they approached. Three men, maybe four – it was hard to tell in the utter darkness they emerged from, obviously bandits. It was Grégoire who put himself in front of Darcy. "Svp, nous vous voulons dire aucun mal!" ("Please, we mean you no harm!")
The first man to come close enough so that his dirty face could be seen in the light laughed and said, "Chariot de fantaisie pour un moine." ("Fancy carriage for a monk.")
"Nous sommes juste de pauvres voyageurs!" ("We are just poor travelers!")
"Il ne regarde pas si pauvre," said the man next to him, cocking his gun at Darcy, who drew his. ("He doesn't look so poor.")
"Tell him if he comes any closer, I'll shoot him in the head," Darcy said, hoping his own words would convey some meaning with their intensity.
There was laughter all around the carriage, but not from the passengers.
"Jugez-le droit là!" ("Hold it right there!")
They all turned, because this voice did not came from them, and the clumping of horse hooves was clearly unexpected by both parties. What little the moon at this stage offered was the vague portrait of a man in a tall hat riding up on horseback. "Garde Nationale ! Énoncez vos affaires!" ("Police. State your business!")
"Excusez-moi, monsieur, mais ces hommes ont tiré à nous!" Grégoire insisted. ("Excuse me, sir, but these men have shot at us!")
The man on the horse responded by lowering his bayonet in the direction of the men he towered over and firing his whistle to signal. "Gardes! Attaque!" ("Guards! Attack!")
"He's a nationalist guard," Grégoire whispered to Darcy. "He's called for his squadron, I believe."
If that was true or not, the bandits were taking no chances. They scattered into the night, and the man in the tall hat did not pursue. He whistled a few more times, but no one came. Instead, he climbed off his horse, holstered his bayonet, and shuffled towards them. He had sort of a limp, and a black beard, and was, as they saw when he came into the light of the lamp hanging off the carriage, in a guard uniform of French colors. "My G-d," he said. "Just in time." His accent was perfectly English, probably a Londoner.
Darcy blinked, and took the lantern down and held it up as the man approached. "Hello? Who goes there?"
"When I get this damned thing off, you'll be able to tell!" the guard said, pulling at his beard. "This gum is damned itchy. I'm sure to have a rash in the morning."
"Excusez-moi?" Grégoire inquired, and they heard a noise behind them. Fortunately, it was only Elizabeth finally coming out of the carriage.
"Elizabeth!" Darcy put his gun back in his belt and embraced her. "Are you all right?"
"Aside from feeling quite useless, yes," she said, and curtseyed to the man in the guard uniform, who was at the moment, pulling off his beard. "Mr. Maddox."
"Mrs. Darcy," Brian Maddox said, his cheeks red from the glue from the fake beard. "Mr. Darcy. And Brother Grégoire, I believe. We've not been formally introduced." He bowed slightly crooked, as he had to do since his injuries at Pemberley.
"You've ...," Darcy said, stunned at both the appearance of a man he considered vaguely an enemy and the fact that this same man had clearly saved all of their lives, "... joined the nationalist guard?"
"Don't be ridiculous." Brian Maddox removed his giant hat, and shook out his mane of black hair. "I won the outfit off an officer with an exceptionally good hand. Literally, the shirt off his back. I don't always lose at gambling, you know."
"That doesn't quite explain why you're here, but I'm grateful that you are," Darcy said. "Thank you. Let me please make the formal introductions for Brother Grégoire. Brother, this is Brian Maddox, who is distantly related to me by marriage through his brother, the Doctor Maddox we write to in Town."
"Pleased to meet you," Grégoire bowed, and Maddox, the same.
"Well, if you must know the whole story, then we'd best be on our way, in case they figure out I don't have a squadron behind me. Coachman?" He nodded to him. "There's an inn not five miles up the road, but you have to turn off at a certain point. I'll show the way." He climbed back on his horse, and Darcy realized they had no choice but to follow him.
The inn was warm and lit, and though it was late, they were all quite shaken from the experience, and not ready to sleep yet, so they joined Brian Maddox, now sans military costume beyond his gun, at a table where he ordered a round. "I have some credit here. I am a courier and I delivered something important for them once without charge. Not really because I wanted to, but that is another story. I suppose you first wish to know what I'm doing here."
"Yes, please," Elizabeth said, because she knew she would say it more nicely than Darcy, who did not look willing to give up his old suspicions just yet.
"Well, I hope you won't tell Danny I did this, because it's precisely the opposite of what he asked me to do. He knew I was in France, or in the general vicinity of it, so he asked me to stay out of your way. Now he may have been down these roads a long time ago, but it's not the same under the Emperor or whatever he's calling himself these days – first it was king, I think. Anyway, I figured I owed you a favor for saving my life by not calling the constable on me back in Derbyshire, so I thought I'd see that you stayed out of trouble, or at least made it to Italy alive."
"And so you impersonated a guard?" Darcy said.
"Lucky I had the outfit, no? Lady Luck and I have a love-hate relationship. Thus, I've been tailing you since you arrived, and quite well apparently, if you haven't noticed me yet. You ought to be more careful."
"We are indebted to you, sir," Grégoire said with a bow of his head.
"It's more like a debt repaid. And I was going in this direction anyway, so no harm done, except to the carriage. And even that wasn't much, compared to what those men could have done."
"I prefer not to think of it," Darcy said, unconsciously putting his arm around Elizabeth. "So you know our intended journey's destination?"
"I've gotten some details from Danny in letter form, the rest from listening to you." He was not afraid of their stares. "Hey, a man's got to keep himself entertained. But I think we are in mutual agreement to keep to ourselves about actions of both parties."
"Certainly," said Darcy. "Have you received any recent correspondences from your brother?"
"Yes. I don't suppose you know, but he recently received a royal commission. My brother, physician to the Prince Regent himself! I always knew he could restore the family honor. And his wife seems like the type of woman that would sure like to be Lady Maddox, if you know what I mean."
Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged smiles.
"How is he, by the way? I mean, besides what he writes. You've seen him more recently than I have. And I know my sister-in-law is with child, so he must be doing something right."
"He seems to be doing very well," Elizabeth said. "Very well, it seems. But when we left, he was very happy with his arrangements."
Brian had a warm smile on his face at this. He always was very agreeable, but there was something in his face that lit up when speaking of his brother. "That's just brilliant. If anyone deserves to be happy, 'tis Danny. But, you can fill me in later. If you don't mind, I'd like to go with you to Marsielle and catch that boat."
"Going to Rome?"
"G-d, no. And end up in the Tiber? There are ... uh, reasons I can't go to Rome." He shrugged it off. "You know. People who – I may or may not owe money. And there's so many bodies in that river, they're not going to notice another one. Oops, should I be saying this in front of a monk?"
"It is a city, not a monastery," Grégoire said. "The Holy City, but I am not immune to tales of the past."
"A very logical perspective," said Darcy.
"Aye, he might make an Englishmen after all," Brian said, and did not further explain. Apparently, he did not need to.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Doctor Maddox had a lot on his mind. He hadn't heard from his brother in a few weeks – probably a good sign – but it was really the least of his worries. Though his job, truth be told, was not honestly very taxing, and provided him with endless access to the University libraries, and his primary patient was in relative health provided he didn't pick up some venereal disease, but several things still weighted on his mind. The Darcys had been gone two months now, and Kirkland was, from Bingley's description, a madhouse of children and Bennets. Bingley, despite owning his own townhouse (occupied by the Hursts year-round, largely), was in town to check on his sister, though he usually gave a more business-related reason. Maddox did nothing to stem the tide of brotherly affection. Louisa Hurst was barren, and further from him in age, but apparently, Charles and Caroline had once been quite close, and now she was to go through the most difficult thing asked of a woman. Elizabeth had miscarried, and Jane was suffering under the strain of merely nursing twins.
But, in fact, Caroline seemed content when she was not losing her lunch, which had calmed down after the first few months. She was mildly annoyed as she began to retire from social life before her formal confinement, drawing nearer every day, and he did his best with his new free time to keep her amused.
In fact, one morning his schedule was particularly empty, as most of his patients requested night calls and he no lectures on his schedule, and so when the servant approached him about a woman at the door who would not give her name, he straightened his waistcoat and went down the stairs, opening the door again himself. "Hello – "
It was Lilly, the prostitute. A very, very pregnant Lilly the prostitute.
"Lilly!" Maddox said. "It is certainly a – uhm, surprise to see you here."
"Doctor," she said. "So sorry fer intrudin.' Can I come in?"
Or having her stand around in broad daylight in front of his townhouse. "Of course. How did you find the place?"
"Asked 'round."
"Of course. Of course." He shooed the attending servants away, except to ask for some tea. "I – uh, didn't expect to see you. At my house."
"Lovely place. Musta cost a fortune. Done well fer yerself, doc."
"It was a wedding present."
"Like I said. Yeh don' mind if I be sitting down on your fine – "
"Oh! No, no, of course not," he stammered, because he could hardly expect a woman – a very expectant woman – to keep standing in his hallway. "Any seat you uhm, like."
"I tried to come, yeh know, when yer wife's out shoppin.' 'cuz that's what rich ladies do with their time."
"Actually, no, she's – Oh G-d." It was the very person in question, descending the steps. She must have heard the bell, and he quickly rushed between himself and Lilly, who didn't get up. "Caroline, it's not what it looks like."
Whether she'd had a proper look beforehand remained a mystery, but she certainly took one now, leaning around him to do so. "Daniel, what in G-d's name – "
"I'm not a 'what'!" Lilly shrieked.
"Caroline – "
"You are whatever I call you!" Caroline Maddox shouted back, then turned indignantly to her husband. "Who is this woman?"
"Her name is Miss Lilly – uhm – "
" – Garrison," said Lilly.
"Miss Garrison. She's – someone who knows former patients of mine. And current patients of mine."
"She's a whore!"
The doctor, horrified at his own indefensible position, turned to Lilly for help, to which she only replied with a shrug, "I ain't denyin' it."
"And she's pregnant!"
"No use denyin' that either," Lilly said. "But, I will say, the good doc 'ere's not the father, 'case you were worried."
"Then what is she doing here?"
"She – I don't know." He spun back to Lilly. "Miss Garrison, would you care to explain your presence?"
"'scuse me, Mrs. Maddox." She did not get up, but she made sort of a curtsey gesture with her head. "I thought you were out. See you've also got one in the oven. Good job, doc."
If there was one thing Maddox was sure of, it was that either his ears were going to burn off or he was going to die of a heart attack from the stress of trying to manage this. "Please – Lilly – Miss Garrison. Explain yourself. For my sake, at least."
"Dunno if I should say it in front of a proper lady," she said, "but I need yer help."
"I must inform you that I am not, in fact, a mid-wife, or any doctor of that sort," he insisted.
"Oh, I'll be fine. 'snot what this is about. See, I figure yeh owe me a favor, what account of you gettin' your big job with the Prince."
"I hardly see how that comes into account," he said. "As I think the favor was returned by me not reporting you as a serial stabber of your clients and my patients."
"Did give yeh some work, though. Prolly paid for her fine dress there." She gestured towards Caroline, which of course set Caroline off on another huff of indignation.
"That I cannot deny. Still, I believe we are even, and though I am loathe to turn away a patient, I must ask that you explain what favor it is that you wish me to grant, and do so very quickly, before my wife is further offended, which I will not tolerate."
Lilly, however, was not to be intimidated. Certainly not by a quivering doctor. "I need yeh to talk to yer boss fer me."
"The Prince? I doubt he is interested in talking to you, or seeing you ever again, except with head upon a – " And then, realization dawned. "It isn't."
"'tis."
"How do you even know?"
"I know!" she replied with some fury. "I keep track a these things, doc. I may be all cockney and knocked up but I ain't stupid."
No, she was not. A little crazy, and completely lacking in refinement, but not stupid. She had an ace in her deck and she intended to play it, and was doing so. Unfortunately, he was to be the carrier of such a terrible message. "Why don't you send him a letter?"
"Did. No response, 'course. And I ain't proposin' that he take the kid, 'cuz I know he won't. I just need some money, to tide me over, seeing as how I can't get work right now."
"I see," he said, because he did see, quite clearly, Lilly's situation. "So you wish me to risk my employment – and, frankly, my life for implying something treasonous to a royal – so you can have some money?"
"An' I know ye'll do it. 'cuz you're all proper like, but not in the way she's proper," she said, pointing to his wife, which was a very improper thing to do. "Yer proper right proper, because yer a decent man, all moral and carin' 'bout people. And if yeh don't do this ... I got nothin'. 'cept a royal kid I gotta feed."
Caroline meant to say something, but Maddox did something he had never done before, hand held up a hand for her to be silent. Maybe her confinement was making her out-of-sorts, but she actually stopped before she said anything and allowed him to speak in a calm voice to Lilly. "While I must first discuss this with my wife, as my very life is in danger if I do this, I will consider the matter and do ... what it is within my discretion to do." He swallowed. "May I inquire ...?"
"Two months, we think. Hard ta tell."
"Then we must settle the matter – if it can be settled – with all expediency. Is there somewhere I can contact you privately?"
"I ain't a very private lady," Lilly said, and apparently excusing herself, gave a sort of half-curtsey to Maddox and Caroline without naming them. "Good 'ay."
"Good day, Miss Garrison," he said, watching her leave. As he turned, his wife was giving him the most severe look she had ever given him. "What?"
...Next Chapter – Pilgrimage