The Price of Family

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

By DJ Clawson

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Chapter 21 – The Last Journey

Undisturbed, Brian Maddox slept right through breakfast and most of the morning. He had not stirred by the time of the arrival of his brother, who had clearly been traveling most of the night in order to get to Kirkland. "I apologize for my intrusion," the doctor said, "but I heard my brother was here. Caroline, by the way, is fine." He apparently was already predicting Bingley's next question as his summer coat was removed and he was ushered into the sitting room for refreshment. "He left a note in my box. I assumed the business was too urgent for a visit."

"It was," Mr. Bennet said, and since Maddox had been a part of this from the beginning, he explained the nature of the letter and its delivery, including the settlement. Doctor Maddox, unlike everyone else Mr. Bennet spoken with since the wild-haired courier had arrived, did not inquire the precise sum. Apparently he was perfectly satisfied with 'a considerable amount' and merely took his tea.

"Happy news, then," the doctor said at last. "And if I might inquire how Miss Bennet is doing – though you have no obligation to tell me – "

"The mid-wife says she is fine," Mr. Bennet said. "She keeps her distress to herself, but I think having other children about is a great comfort to her."

"They can be charming. And I may have heard something from a bird about a noodles incident – "

"Oh yes," Mr. Bennet said. "But we shan't talk about that, right? Forbidden topic, Mr. Bingley?"

Mr. Bingley visibly colored. "No. That is over and done with and not to be discussed. Ever."

"I will remark, though, that Geoffrey is getting most clever with his pranks," Mr. Bennet said. "And they are most amusing to the people not targeted."

"Yes," Bingley said with some severity, and Maddox had enough sense not to further question his host. Fortunately he did not have to, because they were joined by his hobbling brother.

"Danny!" with no lack of enthusiasm, they embraced. "Look at you. I think marriage has made you taller. If you weren't towering over me already."

"Maybe you're shrinking," the doctor said. "How did you get back to England?"

"Well, it is an island, so the same way everyone else does – by boat," he said, and bowed to his hosts. "Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bennet."

"Mr. Maddox," Bingley said. "How are you?"

"I wouldn't say I'm quite ready to be back on the road again, but now I can at least contemplate the idea," he said, and took a seat with his brother, helping himself to some of the scones that had been brought out. "And to answer the question properly, I was fortunate to find a man willing to pay off my still-standing debts in Town if I carried a letter for him. So, though I am not eager to go tromping about dark alleyways, I am legally free again. Besides, I must get back to Italy in all haste, so that the Darcys can return. I believe they are eager to do so. But - ," and he held up a free hand, holding another roll in the other, "if I can get a ride back with them, perhaps, I can be in time to see if my nephew or niece has that Irish hair."

"It's not Irish," Bingley insisted.

"I didn't say it was bad. I have nothing against the wild, savage, Papist Gaels over the crossing. In fact, it's well known that Maddoxes go wild over them."

The doctor just took off his glasses and sighed, and Mr. Bennet had a good laugh. All at poor Bingley's expense, of course.

"You have more time, if you wish it," the doctor said. "The child won't be going anywhere."

"But I must be in the Romany mountains by Christmas. Before the hard snow sets in."

"Work?"

"You could ... call it that. But you would be wrong," Brian said. "I am to be married."

"What?" Both Maddox and Bingley rose in response to the news.

"Sorry not to mention it in the letters, but I haven't entirely decided on it. But the date is set."

"Then how, pray tell, is it not decided?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"Funny story – "

Doctor Maddox put his glasses back on and crossed his arm, "Somehow I don't think this story is going to be very funny."

"Depends on your perspective. You see, I sort of lost ... myself ... in a bet. Now, I thought it was going to be some kind of labor transaction, but apparently, this count or baron or whatever wants me to marry his daughter, for whom he has not found a husband to his liking. And for whatever reason, I am to his liking. Now if I had known that and had known what cards he was holding when I raised – "

It was impossible – Bingley could not help but laugh, though he did cover his mouth when he did it, while the doctor's expression was entirely un-amused. "So you are to marry a Romani girl because of a bet?"

"Not Romani. Those are the gypsies. She's Romanian. And she's a princess."

"A Princess!" Mr. Bennet said. "My my, this gets better all the time."

"Have you even met her?" Daniel Maddox demanded.

"Once. No, twice. And to be honest, she isn't so terrible at all. A real jewel hidden away in that massive castle. And was very sweet to me, if a bit shy."

"You cannot be serious."

"Oh, I'm quite serious. The question now is to never go back to Romany again or go back and stay for the rest of my life. Minus some traveling abroad. Or, when the count – I believe he is a count – when he dies, as I would inherit his estate, I could abandon it if I pleased. So, you see my dilemma. Not that I am expecting an answer from you, though you probably would at least like to comment on my terrible habits and how much trouble they've gotten me into. Well, to be honest, if I didn't show, I don't think he would chase me. But it might break her poor heart. That's the real issue. Certainly, I've run away from altars before, but usually I thought the woman deserved it. So go now, make your condemning response to my insipidly stupid behavior."

But the doctor had no response. He was standing there, gaping, towering over his brother but not saying anything. He scratched his head and after some time said, "...Congratulations?"

"You support it?"

"I ... don't know. I mean, do you know her? You only met her twice?"

"Yes," Brian said. "But that's double the amount of times a couple in her country normally meets before marriage, so one could say we know each other quite well. None of this business of slow courtship through balls and dinner invitations and letters and more dinners and more letters and going on walks when all you know you want to do is marry the poor girl. Plus, she expects an arranged marriage, so I would say, she seemed mildly surprised that I was so – I don't know, nice to her."

No one could seem to gather any response to this all, even Mr. Bennet. It was Brian who had to continue, "But, enough about me. How's my sister-in-law?"

"She's ... fine," Doctor Maddox stammered. "I think I need to sit down."

"I told you I have the summer. Will you relax already? And I must go back to Italy and then come back here first. Plenty of time. What are you so worried about?"

"Your welfare. And, apparently your sanity," his brother replied.

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In utmost secrecy later that day, as his brother rested from the long ride from Town, Brian passed a letter to Mary Bennet in the hallway, quietly and with no one around. He had barely turned around when he was facing Bingley, trying to look as intimidating as possible. "Mr. Maddox."

"Mr. Bingley."

"My office?"

Brian Maddox rolled his eyes but did follow him into his study. "So – how is my sister-in-law? Danny is too modest."

"She's fine. What was that?"

"Aren't you the noble guardsman."

"Mr. Maddox."

Brian sat down. "It was a private letter from Mr. Ferretti to Miss Bennet, that I was asked to deliver along with the other one. Yes yes, I know it's highly improper for an unmarried man and an unmarried woman to post and all that nonsense, but I do think they know each other well enough for one last correspondence. Or whatever it was. It was sealed, and despite the fact that I am perfectly capable of breaking a seal and then closing it up again without the appearance of having done so, I did not read it on the way. That letter, anyway. 150,000 pounds, huh? He must be one of those old noble families. Probably traces his roots to the Roman Imperials."

"But Darcy asked you to deliver this?"

"Yes. And isn't he the model of propriety or some such nonsense?"

Bingley found he could not openly contradict him. "So I suppose it should be permitted. I would certainly not want to upset Miss Bennet at this stage."

"I'm not the doctor, but I would say yes to that. Anything else?"

"Since you are here," Bingley said, "how are the Darcys?"

"Quite well, now that this is settled. Or, they seemed to be. They would have sent all kinds of presents but they didn't want to weigh down my load. But they are very eager to be back, I think. And you are probably eager to have young Master Darcy off your hands."

"How are they intending to return?"

"They had not decided. Initially, when I met them on the road from Paris, they said they might come back more leisurely, but now they may have had enough of Europe and missing their son."

"And have they learned the language or will they bring their guide all the way?"

Brian leaned back, his mood altered. "Odd thing for you to ask."

"Why?"

"Just, thinking that."

"Is there something you're not saying?"

"Is there something you're not saying?" Brian said. "G-d, I hate circular arguments, unless I'm winning them. Yes, Mr. Bingley, if it will satisfy you as my host, I will say graciously that I believe they intend to return with their monkish guide, and that is all I am permitted to say at this time."

"Oh," Mr. Bingley said. "Very well, then." He rose, which meant Brian was free to leave, and his guest excused himself.

Outside, Daniel Maddox was waiting, having just awoken from his nap. "What was that about?"

"Espionage. Secrets and lies," Brian said dramatically. "There any food about?"

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It was only two days before Brian declared himself well enough to leave again, and his brother did not put up argument. With the reply and some new clothes (having thoroughly ruined the old ones) he got back on his horse, and together with his brother, made for Town. At an exceptionally fast pace, they arrived in Town not a day later, and only at the doctor's insistence did Brian agree to rest the night at the house before getting on the boat.

"You don't have any pain in your back? When you ride?" the doctor finally, nervously inquired.

"No, none at all."

"And running?"

"No pain, just that damned limp. The leg won't go in certain directions, that's all. I've gotten used to it. And you already said you can't repair nerves."

"I wouldn't dare," Daniel Maddox said as they awaited the arrival of his wife, who was apparently resting upstairs. "Surgery is a painful and dangerous procedure, even if I thought I could fix something."

"Maybe that was the attraction of the count. He might think I can't run away from him if I hurt his daughter. Or him, to get his fortune. Not that I would."

"Brian, you can't be serious."

"Perhaps I am," Brian smiled, making it impossible to tell if he was. "Perhaps I should settle down. I'm almost forty, Danny, and a cripple. Maybe I should recognize that G-d is handing me something, even if it is in the hills of Romany." He turned. "But look. If it isn't the Gaelic goddess herself. Mrs. Maddox."

"Mr. Maddox," Caroline said, descending the stairs. How she had safely managed into a beautiful gown at her stage, neither had any idea, but she was still, but for her midsection, the imagine of grace and female form. Her curtsey, however, was excusably minor. "How are you?"

"Quite well, all things considered and that you may here otherwise. But I must be off in the morning, sadly. I have a most important letter to deliver."

Only when things were fully explained and she was satisfied was he permitted to go to sleep, and in the morning, they saw him off.

"Why is it your brother is do dutiful to the Darcys?"

"I believe the answer is obvious," Daniel Maddox said. "Besides, he has always been a man of honor when not at a card table or in a gambling den. Unfortunately, he is usually at one of the two."

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It was two weeks, many bribes, many horses, and a few close calls with authorities before Brian Maddox was back over the border and into the ancient hills of Italy. He instinctively headed towards the villa. His instincts were often very keen, except when it came to games of chance, it seemed. Stopping to take a breather by a stream that must eventually have fed the Tiber and then the ocean, he washed his neck and sat in the shade. He knew if he just leaned against the tree, he would be fast asleep, and lose the day, and he was not foolish or fast enough to travel this area at night.

He had lied a little to Daniel. He did, at time, have pains that a surgeon told him were phantom, in his chest. He had lost weight. He had grey in his hair, coming in at the roots. He was becoming an old man before his time. Maybe settling down would not be such a terrible idea. Perhaps that very notion was why he had not gambled a penny since the day he met Nadezhda in private, during their second meeting, when they were afforded some time alone on a balcony, out of sight of her overbearing, bearded hulk of a father. Why was he turning his thoughts to her now? Wasn't he on an important mission? His brother would never grant his consent – not he needed his brother's consent. He was a man and besides, the older one. But he just wanted Danny's look of approval for once, nodding just once in a way that said, You've done something right. I know, I'm as shocked as you are. Only, Daniel Maddox wouldn't say it that way.

He got back on his horse, and continued his journey. He made it to the villa just outside Rome in another two days. There he found an overeager Darcy shaking his hand and not doing the proper thing of reading the letter in private, in whatever room he designated his study. He read it aloud to all present. Mr. Bennet accepted the terms. All that he wished was his daughter's happiness, of course. (And they knew Mr. Bennet meant it)

Darcy turned unceremoniously to Brian and said, "What is the absolute fastest way to get to England without riding?"

"Without riding? By carriage."

"We could not go fast, by carriage."

Brian shrugged, confused. "Then, I suppose, you could charter a boat that would go around France and take you to home. But it would be a monstrous expense and still take time."

"How long?"

He was getting alarmed by the urgency in Darcy's voice. Darcy rarely laid his emotions so bare. "Uhm, three weeks at best, to sail all the way around France. Maybe."

"Can you look into it for me? Immediately?"

"Of course," he said. "What is this all about? What's wrong?"

"It's not – wrong," Elizabeth said. "Nothing is wrong. I just cannot ride on a horse and we need to return."

"And even the carriage would be a bit bumpy," Darcy said.

"Oh," Brian said. And then again, "Oh. Well, uhm, why don't I see about a ship then. A fast one."

"Cost is not a concern," Darcy stressed. "I will go to Rome now with the letter and see about the financial arrangements. They will probably take a day or two."

"And I will return as fast as possible from the port with arrangements," Brian said. "A day or two. I hope your brother has adapted to life at sea, Mr. Darcy, or we'll all be in a lot of trouble. Though, a man can survive without food for a long time if he is kept with properly watered."

"Don't make Grégoire sound like a plant," was all Darcy had to say to that. "And you have made the assumption that I intend to take him back to England."

"But I am probably correct."

Darcy, it seemed, felt himself at a loss, and only shrugged. They had more urgent business to attend to.

The Darcys, together and separately, said their good-byes to Rome. It was a pleasant place, but it was not home, not even to Grégoire, who spent the most time there. One night, he did not return at all, and Darcy stayed up in concern, long after his wife had retired. He was sitting on the stairs, knowing Grégoire would have to climb them to get to his room. When his brother did reappear, the sun was rising, and he looked exhausted. He shambled up the steps, nodded to Darcy, and attempted to make his way to his room. Darcy grabbed his bloodied robes. "I thought we spoke of this."

"The last time, Darcy. For Elizabeth."

"Explain to me, in detail, how this will help my wife."

"It is not a medical thing to be stated. It is a matter of faith, brother, that the yoke of heaven can be pulled off one person and assigned to another." He turned around, and despite his obvious extreme discomfort, stared right back up at his towering, intimidating brother. "I would not see her suffer. She deserves only happiness."

"While I disagree with your methods, I agree with the notion, however misguided, that we both wish the best for Elizabeth. But, if this is truly the last time, then I will take your word as a solemn vow."

"I vow it." Grégoire crossed himself.

"Then," Darcy said, "let me help you to your room. That is, I believe, not part of the program."

Grégoire did not contradict him. As the birds chirped for early morning, Darcy bandaged his brother, leant him a shirt, and ordered the last remaining servant to wash out his robe with as much soap as possible. It was not until the monk was asleep on his mat on the floor that Darcy returned to his own bed, sliding next to Elizabeth, a hand on her stomach, and fell asleep. There was silence as he drifted off, and for the moment, that was enough.

...Next Chapter - The Long Way Home