Kitty had been honest in her revelation of her newly discovered pleasure for walking. She and Lydia used to laugh mercilessly at Elizabeth for it, not understanding in the least why anyone would subject themselves to the brutality of the elements beyond that which led to the pleasure of buying ribbons or soliciting gossip. But she saw it now for what it was, an escape from all things mundane and perplexing. She had few people with whom to quarrel since Lydia's departure with her mama more sanguine and her father more tolerant, but she found herself longing for one, harbouring the romantic yearning to storm from the house so as to embark on an anger-fuelled march across dew-ridden fields. And if others found that idea ridiculous then they'd be justified in their view that whilst the fourth Bennet daughter had undoubtedly matured over the last half year, she still had some way to go before she might be called sensible.
Overtaken by the wish to escape a little longer from the judgement and misunderstanding that was awaiting her, she set out on a path that appeared to circumnavigate the lake. She felt no trepidation in tackling such a thing given the recent improvements to her health, and found herself delighted by the route. At first it skirted natural shallows in which early frogspawn could be found, their jelly-eyed masses clumped between beds of tall reeds. And further along the discovery of a small jetty and small boat gave her cause to wonder whether it was permissible to view the house from the water. She'd gasped at its grandeur at first sight of it and her impression hadn't lessened from seeing a little of the inside. Lizzy had quipped that her love for Mr Darcy was confused with her love of Pemberley and Kitty could well believe it.
It was on this that she allowed herself to ruminate for some time as she continued, the path beginning to rise as it meandered away from the lake. She found it compelling to consider the nature of her sister's marriage, of how it must be between Mr Darcy and Elizabeth given that she belonged to him now. Kitty felt sure of that fact, for that was exactly what marriage was, the surrendering of oneself to another. It had been what Lydia had done, Jane too; surrendered a part of themselves so as to reach a higher level of civility. Entering that state appeared to her, on the one hand, an exciting, desirable prospect that promised wonder and fulfilment, and yet she seemed to harbour an inner fear of it and certainly found no reassurance in Mary's argument that becoming a wife was, in fact, the will of God.
So lost was she to these thoughts that it was with surprise that the cooler air facilitated by the dense shading of a woodland brought her to a stop to take in her surroundings. She'd been walking with her attention too much elsewhere for some time and, whilst at each turn she'd assumed she'd be selecting the main path, it appeared that perhaps that had not been the case. She spun around and found it impossible to determine in which direction lay any notable features, not even the ridge of trees that marked a natural boundary around the immediate parkland, and felt an odd feeling beginning to rise up from within. On another occasion she imagined she would have developed into a state of alarm as disorientation triumphed over rational thought but instead she felt only mirth and chuckled loudly, heartily even, at the absurdity of it. She'd come to Pemberley to find a renewed sense of equanimity and yet here she was, within hours, lost once more.
Turning back seemed the obvious choice despite the risk of chastisement for her foolishness in exchange for security. But she'd decided several days ago that forwardness must be her path and so, with the only briefest of hesitations, she continued on. And on and on she went, not stopping when she stumbled on tree roots protruding from the path, not pausing when the path sloped suddenly upwards and she felt the inadequacy of her slippers. 'Onwards, Kitty, onwards,' she repeated inside her head, the words turning over and over, again and again until at last she couldn't any longer, her body protesting for a final time. Reaching a clearing she baulked at the view, the lake far below unfathomably small despite its magnificence, a simple blue ribbon running through a patchwork of greens and browns. And it was here that she finally allowed herself to stop, to sink down onto the ground that had been sufficiently dried by the sunshine not to be too uncomfortable, and to rest.
Kitty wasn't sure how long she'd stayed there, her mind being so plagued by the inadequacy of recent decisions. What she did know was that by the time the sound of the clatter of hooves caused her to look up, the sight of Elizabeth in command of a low phaeton brought her considerable relief.
"Are you laughing or crying?" Lizzy questioned having secured the transport and crossing towards her, her brow deeply furrowed at the implication of either.
"Both, I think," Kitty admitted truthfully, managing a cheerful-ish sort of grimace through her tears, rising and then falling into her sister's arms.
Elizabeth brought her close to hug her tightly, resolved not to act or judge too hastily despite the severe temptation to do so. Feeling that resolve weakened by the current state of the person currently pressed against her, she breathed deeply and feigned her serenity.
"Come now, let us find a spot where we can sit and you can begin to tell me what this is all about," she said encouragingly. "Nothing is so awful that sharing it with your much older and wiser sister cannot help."
Kitty laughed at that and sniffed loudly in an attempt to compose herself. "You will always be older," she said teasingly, "I will never catch you."
In response, Lizzy raised a stern eyebrow countered with a smile as she led them to where the ponies and phaeton stood in patient wait. She allowed Kitty to climb up first and swiftly followed to take the reins and before long they were heading down a wide bridleway edged on both sides by hedgerow.
"I'm sure you are rather sick of carriage rides," Lizzy said lightly, with Kitty nodding her agreement.
"Is Jane very cross?" she asked tentatively.
Lizzy shook her head. "Worried rather than cross," she offered, her voice tailing off as her concentration became fixed on a pair of bright eyes she'd spotted just off the path. She brought their progress to a stop and they sat watching as a pair of deer crossed haltingly in front of them. "I'm sure our brother would welcome the return of his men and property," she remarked as they waited.
Kitty reddened at the implication of theft and mumbled they were already on their way to being so. This seemed to satisfy Lizzy and she said no more, their journey resuming in silence.
The glade Elizabeth navigated to was one she knew to be sheltered and with sufficient sunlight to keep them warm. It was a place she herself had come many times over her short marriage and with a low branch on which they could both sit it offered all they required
"Perhaps you could start at the beginning," Lizzy suggested once they'd settled themselves. "Putting aside the rather reckless decision to travel half the length of the country alone, I would like to try and comprehend the events that must have led up to it."
Kitty nodded her condescension. "That is fair, Lizzy, and I do so want to share it with you, desperately, even though you will inevitably conclude I have acted rashly."
"Maybe," she said with some agreement, "But I am determined to listen and do so with an open mind."
Kitty glanced at her sister and saw her looking back at her with such encouragement and kindness that she was persuaded to begin.
"It is our aunt's fault really, well perhaps not hers but certainly our Uncle Phillips," she sighed, her eyes turning away to frown at the tree directly opposite them. "You see he came into some considerable amount of work not long after you departed Longbourn and found himself in need of a new assistant."
"What happened to Mr Turnbull?" Lizzy asked with surprise at the implied absence of their uncle's clerk.
"Oh, he has remained," Kitty confirmed, "But it seemed this work was such that further assistance was required. In all honesty I don't truly understand it, the business side of it all, but suffice to say a man was found for the position, a Mr Lowther."
There was a pause as Elizabeth forced herself to control her immediate thoughts of scandal, not helped in the least by the blush that seemed to be appearing on her sister's cheeks.
"Mr Lowther," Kitty said, taking up again, "Is a gentleman. Not by birth of course, but in his very nature. Our aunt introduced us over cards and I'll confess Lizzy I admired him from the first. He is everything I had never known I aspired to. Tall but not excessively so, handsome but with a kindness to his features, and a voice that..." she tailed off in recollection before she reached for her sister's hand and exclaimed, "Oh Lizzy, I felt such guilt and shame at how I could recall his words only to be excited by how they were spoken more than by their meaning."
"I believe you liked him rather well," Lizzy said and, despite it all, she allowed herself a small smile at her sister's infatuated state.
"More than any man of my acquaintance," she enthused before she added more quietly. "But you'd have been proud of me. I have learnt a little of what it is to encourage the right sort of man and managed to remain calm and ladylike when we met in the street or at my aunt's. And over a few weeks we developed a kind of friendship, I suppose."
Lizzy smiled with greater geniality. "If all this is true then I am indeed proud of you. It is not easy to change oneself. You know my thoughts on Lydia and her flirtations. I am pleased if you have found a different way to her. Has he sought a courtship?"
The question brought a cloud to cross her sister's face and Lizzy felt the loss as her hand was unceremoniously dropped back into her lap. She kept focused on Kitty as she stood and began to pace in front of her, her lips seeming to move but without any discernible sound accompanying them. She allowed her a few minutes to dwell as to the matter that so clearly consumed her before, at last, her patience wanned.
"What is it?" she asked, "It cannot be so bad if he had acted as he should have done and you in return."
Kitty came up short and turned to face her front on, her eyes moist but also steeled with something more, defiance perhaps. "He asked to marry me, but I can't, I simply cannot."
"You do not love him?" Lizzy enquired gently, standing to join her. "If not now then your description implies that you might, or at least could."
"It is not that," she replied, shaking her head frantically, "I believe that I do or that I might very nearly, but..."
"But what, my dear?" Lizzy asked, reaching out to offer comfort only for Kitty to fling up her hands in resistance.
"But I panicked!" Kitty exclaimed, her eyes wide with her confession. "He asked me to be his wife and I didn't know how to reply, how to accept if indeed I had wanted to. It was all too much, too soon, too overwhelming and suddenly I could see no way out." Her words had turned to sobs halfway through her outburst and continued as she chokingly explained how she'd felt she'd had no choice but to offer a whirlwind of begging apology as she backed away and then turned and ran, regretting her action even before her flight had ceased. "He won't want me now, don't you see?" she cried wildly, "Not ever!"
Elozabeth stepped forward to gather her sister into her arms once more and quietly began to offer words which she hoped would soothe and console. They were met with further jumbling explanations and, at length, she felt she understood the whole sorry mess and how it had all come to be.