The Plight of the Darcy Brothers (36 page)

Frederick and Emily Maddox were christened together nearly five days later, when Dr. Maddox finally judged his wife's health had returned enough for a short trip to the cathedral. The girl, with her very Bingley orange hair, was named after her maternal grandmother. In attendance, with everyone caught up in Derbyshire, were merely the Bingleys, the Hursts, and the Maddoxes. Jane had come down to be there for her niece and nephew, as Charles would be leaving almost immediately after the ceremony and they would ride back together. Louisa and Mr. Hurst were named godparents, lacking the abilities to be parents themselves. Afterward, they all returned to the Maddox house so the babies could be settled in their cradle, and many presents were given to two children who were totally unaware of the events surrounding them.

Excusing themselves after an early lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were back on the road to Chatton, assured that the doctor would join them when they sent for him or when Caroline was ready to travel, whichever came first.

“
Two
children,” Jane said in the carriage, leaning into her husband. “For the work of one.”

“I know. Why didn't we think of that?”

“Charles!”

He took her hand. “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

“I am looking forward more to the idea of more children, should they come to be. But that is all for God to decide, as our new brother-in-law would say.”

“Well, if a christening makes you so maternal, you may very well have another to enjoy very soon.”

“I never said I stopped loving our children! I just would prefer that we have them at a convenient time and in a convenient order!” She nestled into his shoulder. “Oh, if only life were so simple.”

“It would certainly be less interesting.”

MADDOX DID MAKE IT to Derbyshire in time, because Mary was a week late, and with him came Caroline and their two children. “As long as your brother doesn't loot us out of house and home while we're gone, we should be fine,” Caroline said as they stepped out of the carriage.

“I think Brian will do just fine.”

“That's what I'm worried about.”

Caroline would not leave her infants, and Bingley welcomed them both, saying that with his children nearing their second birthday, Chatton was becoming eerily quiet. Of course, there was some shock among the less-informed of his guests about the Maddox children, who were not actually twins and did not look a bit alike, as tiny Frederick had brown hair, unlike his sister or his parents as babies. Dr. Maddox just shrugged at any questioning about the peculiar timing of the adoption. Though happy to be back in her grand gowns, Caroline surprised the Chatton crowd with her overwhelming affection for her infants, having taken to motherhood with unexpected vigor.

“It's positively endearing,” Jane said to Lizzy when she came in. “And a little bizarre.”

While being late to deliver was not an abnormal occurrence, each day that Mary was late created increasing tension, and she was even harder to corner than normally.

When Elizabeth finally did, it was in Mary's room, which was all set up with a cradle for the baby. Mary was staring out the window, fingering a beautiful locket that Elizabeth did not remember seeing before. “Mary? Are you all right?”

“I am fine.”

“I meant it more generally.” Elizabeth gasped. “Oh! I completely forgot!” she added. “Miss Talbot sends her regards. She says she very much wishes to visit when she returns from the Continent.”

Mary turned around. “She does?”

“Yes, very much so. In fact, she was instrumental in locating Mr. Mastai, so we owe her a great debt. Though, I will say, she was not a gossip. I did have to pry the information out of her.” She joined Mary by the window. As her condition increased, Mary had been keeping her distance from everyone, shriveling away from contact. “She said there was genuine affection between you and Mr. Mastai. He did say most truthfully that he loved you, whatever the circumstances that resulted.”

“I know,” Mary said. “He wrote that in his letter that Mr. Maddox delivered. Giovanni was never once insincere, so I don't doubt it now.”

“Did he give you the locket?”

“Yes. So the child will know its father, even if some things
cannot be.” Even though there was heaviness to her voice, it was not filled with sadness. “I love him, but it is not as though I cannot imagine life without him. I would be so desperately lonely for all of you in Italy, even if he quit the church. And he would be adrift here, as Grégoire is, even though he is half-English.”

“Grégoire will not stay,” Elizabeth said. “Darcy will find a monastery to his liking somewhere and he will leave us, but he will visit. But you're right, in that he is a blood relative with no other standing family, so his situation is entirely different.” She sighed. “Some people apparently do wish for the contemplative life.”

“Giovanni does not. He will hardly be a monk, and he has obligations,” she said.

“Mary, there are others out there. In fact, you will find many a man in England who has not promised his life to the Catholic Church.”

“But this is not about me,” Mary said. “Not entirely. I should not be so selfish.” She stroked her stomach. “Nine months is so long. I was so miserable with worry, and now I realize I have something to look forward to.” She smiled. “Excuse me, Lizzy, but I must sit.”

“Oh, yes,” Elizabeth helped her into the armchair. She was surprised Mary had been standing that long. “Please.”

“Did you fancy Rome?”

“It had its spectacles, but it was terribly hot and had a rather bad stench in the late afternoon,” Elizabeth said. “I would not want to spend more time there than I did. The food, though, was amazing. It is better to live outside the city in a villa. Mary?” For she noticed her sister had gone pale. “Mary!”

“It—is probably nothing. But please, I would appreciate Mama being in a different room from me when you tell her.”

Mary suffered through nearly two cruel days of labor, to the point that her health became a serious concern, and Dr. Maddox was called in to take a look. “I think the child is merely taking its time. Everything appears fine, Miss Bennet.”

“
You useless
—” and then Mary let loose a stream of Italian unknown in nature to the crowd of women that surrounded her, for Mrs. Maddox had opted out of being at her side. From Dr. Maddox's reaction, what she had said was not particularly polite. He left red-faced and did not return.

He was correct in his estimation, for without any complications except the exhausting length of the labor, Mary delivered a healthy baby boy, whom she immediately named Joseph, the allusion being obvious. Dr. Maddox insisted that she drink more than she was inclined and be washed, but he made no other important medical notations.

Without anyone to admit him, Mr. Bennet knocked on the door, asked to see his grandson, and took the seat beside his daughter. Little Joseph Bennet wailed in his grandfather's arms as Mr. Bennet wiped the baby's chin. Elizabeth emptied the room of everyone but the mother and the grandfather, and she was about to excuse herself, but she thought the look on her father's face was too memorable. He loved all of his grandchildren, but this look was positively radiant. Mary was partially asleep and could only have been minimally aware of anything, much less her father's gentle laughter and tears of joy as he held the boy he would raise under his own roof, the boy who would take his name, his legacy. Of all the girls, only Mary had given that to him.

Elizabeth did excuse herself, but neither person noticed. She ran right to her room and found Darcy inside, being dressed
for the celebratory dinner. She gave his manservant a look, and as he bowed himself away, Elizabeth ran to her husband, who towered over her more than usual on his dressing stand, and hugged him.

“Lizzy?”

“Nothing. I'm just—so happy. For Mary,” she said. “And Papa.”

“I must admit myself that my opinion of relations beyond marriage has been raised considerably over the last few months.”

After Mary was out of danger, Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy made a trip to Town to settle all of the accounts, and Mr. Bennet went from there to open up Longbourn from his longest absence since the birth of Jane. Some of his servants had found other work, he discovered, and together with his son-in-law, he saw about hiring new ones and fixing the roof. Mr. Bennet was in such a good mood that he even traveled back to London with Darcy so he could escort his returning family home.

“You could do some renovations,” Darcy suggested.

“Only if Mary requests. It is, after all, her money. Though, I doubt she or I are equipped to deal with it.”

“It should be properly invested,” Darcy said. “I would be happy to offer the services of my steward, who is most trustworthy. In addition, the trust fund for Master Joseph—Mr. Joseph Bennet—will mature considerably in the seventeen years before he gains access to it. It may be as much as fifty thousand by then.”

“Fifty thousand pounds,” Mr. Bennet said in disbelief.

“They will be waiting in line, once they hear of Mary's inheritance, however obtained and whatever baggage it brings.”

Mr. Bennet could not seem to fathom it all. He shook his head. “Mary does not seem the marrying type, or at least, is not willing to put herself on the market just yet, certainly. Maybe in a few years. My pressing concern is Kitty, who herself is now a prize, to be honest, with ten thousand pounds. Perhaps I should buy her an apartment in Town. She and Georgiana do get along well.”

“They do. And Mrs. Maddox's temperament has improved tremendously since her marriage.”

To this, Mr. Bennet only smirked in reply.

When they returned to Chatton, preparations were underway to somehow get all of the infants back to their homes, for everyone had had enough of newborn squealing, except perhaps Lydia, who had finally arrived to greet her new nephew. Joseph was christened in the same chapel as his cousins, as the vicar gave Grégoire a disapproving look for just existing in that bizarre medieval way of his.

After a luncheon, Darcy and his brother excused themselves while Elizabeth was still absorbed in her new godson and nephew. They had something to do at Pemberley that concerned no one else.