The following day, Kitty found herself too restless and irritable for company. Instead, she roamed the halls of Pemberley, hoping that by the time she encountered anybody her mood would have improved. She wandered alone for some time without seeing a soul except the formidable Darcy ancestors, watching her progress from their painted chambers. The portrait gallery was an intimidating place, indeed, and Mr. Darcy's portrait seemed to fit in very well with his fathers: tall, and stern, and fully convinced of his proper place in the world. Kitty did not like it at all.
At the end of the gallery, however, she encountered Mr. Knott, and his cheerful company soon warmed her to the idea of companionship. "Miss Bennet!" he said with a broad smile and a bow. "I was hoping to find you, when you did not join us in the breakfast room."
She returned his bow and his smile. "And found me you have, Mr. Knott; what do you propose to do with me now?" It struck her as the words left her lips that they were rather too flirtatious to be offered to a clergyman, and she wondered whether her father would have punished her if he'd heard it, but Mr. Knott did not seem to mind in the slightest.
"If you will permit me, I was hoping we could share in a walk about the grounds this morning. I enjoyed our last walk very much, and I have been anxious to repeat the experience without the unpleasant confrontation at the end."
Kitty laughed incredulously. "You enjoyed listening to me complain about my pitiful life? Well, I don't see why we need to wander around out of doors to replicate that experience, and I do not claim to be as strong a walker as my sister. But if you truly wish it, I will not object."
His answering smile was a little less certain. "I had not meant to suggest—that is, I truly enjoy your company, Miss Bennet, and whatever topic of conversation you choose I will entertain gladly, but I rather meant that I wished to walk about the grounds, and would like your company. We could talk about anything you like. Perhaps a happier subject might be preferable?"
She could see his awkward attempt at backpedaling and she realized with a jolt of shame that he thought she was offended. "Forgive me; I had not meant to make you uncomfortable. I have apparently inherited too much of my sister's propensity to tease. Allow me to fetch my bonnet and my shawl, and I will happily join you for a walk." She smiled to reassure him. "Shall I meet you at the garden door in ten minutes?"
That brought the smile back to his face in full force. "Yes, of course. I will see you very shortly." He left her with a spring in his step that Kitty only half noticed as she went to find her effects.
She met him at the door a few minutes early, though he was still there before her. He had a small picnic basket in hand. She greeted him with a smile and took his arm when he offered it, and he led her out into the sunshine. She was immediately very glad that she had brought her parasol as well as her bonnet.
"Where shall we go, Mr. Knott?" she asked as they walked past the kitchen garden. "I have not explored very much of Pemberley's grounds, and I am quite at your mercy."
"Do you wish to see more of it than you have seen already?"
She giggled a little bit. "I have seen so very little of it that I suspect I will see more no matter what we do."
"Very well; I shall take you to my favorite place on the grounds. It is almost as long a walk as we took last time, however. Will you be able to manage it?"
"I should imagine so, if you are able to help me," she said.
"You will have my unflagging support," he said with a twinkle in his eye, and he led them off onto a much smaller path that moved directly north of the house. Mr. Knott chatted away as they walked, pointing out things that he thought would interest Kitty, or that she might not have seen before. She appreciated it, but she didn't quite understand; he had never been so uncomfortable with silence before, and now he seemed terrified of it. Had she said something wrong yesterday?
But eventually Mr. Knott trailed off and said no more, and she was perfectly content to take in the scenery as they strolled. She was glad to give herself up to enjoyment of the breeze that tossed the tassels on her parasol, and the green land that stretched out around them. Eventually, however, she could not fail to notice her companion's silence, and she glanced at him questioningly. She was quite startled to find that he was watching her with an earnest look in his eyes and a smile just touching the corners of his mouth.
"Do you take this way often, then?" she asked, if only to recall herself.
"Quite often since I arrived here, yes. In fact, since I discovered it—or, rather, since Colonel Fitzwilliam showed it to me—I have come out almost every day. It is one of the most enchanting places I have ever been, even within Pemberley. I half hope that Mr. Darcy grants me that living just so that I may come out here whenever I like." He smiled at his joke and Kitty smiled back. She hoped that Mr. Darcy did give him the living. It would be so much nicer to know that Mr. Knott might become a friend whom she could look forward to meeting with whenever she came to visit her sister, someone who would not judge her for being herself and someone no one else could judge her for visiting. Perhaps she could join him on this walk again in the future. So far it was as lovely as he had claimed.
"You will have to make very good friends with Mr. Darcy so that he allows you to come visit whether or not he grants you the living," she said.
"Perhaps I might impose on your friendship."
She shrugged. "Perhaps you might indeed, though I do not know if I will live at Pemberley for ever. Mrs. Darcy and I are not particularly close." It was not meant to be more than an offhand comment of the way she saw things, but he seemed to take it as something more of an invitation.
"Are you closer to others of your sisters, then? It would be a shame if none of them saw you as a valuable companion."
"I was much closer to my younger sister Lydia, but she has married and moved away, even further north than this, and I do not see her much any longer. And she was never a very good correspondent, so she does not write me as often as I write her. I feel as though we have fallen away from each other since she was married." She hesitated, looking out across the landscape as she decided how much to share. She was not really in the mood to open the doors she had opened on their last walk together. "I do not know how much you know about the circumstances surrounding her wedding, but they were a bit… unusual. My father was most displeased with her conduct in the matter, as were Lizzy and my sister Jane, and I'm afraid their opinions of her have altered their opinions of me."
"That seems markedly unfair."
"Doesn't it? But I suppose Lydia and I were always a unit in their minds. We were so rarely apart that they probably began to think of us as just 'Kitty and Lydia' rather than two distinct people." She did not say that sometimes she felt the same way, that she was somehow a lesser extension of Lydia, and that people loved her only in as much as they loved her younger sister, and that Lydia was always the recipient of greater affection.
"Has that not changed since your sister was married, and moved so far away?"
"Decidedly not," Kitty said with a strange little laugh, half strangled before it left her throat. "Otherwise I would be visiting her, instead of here at Pemberley, for she has invited me to come to her many times and I have always been denied permission."
That silenced him for a few minutes, and Kitty was grateful for the time to recompose herself. She really did not want to have this conversation with someone she knew so ill. Finally, though, he said in a very quiet tone, "Do you regret that you were able to come to Pemberley, instead?"
She thought about that for a long while. She regretted what had happened with Mr. Johns, and to a lesser extent, Miss Pratt. But she was very glad to have made such a friend in Miss Darcy, and in her current companion. And it was not such a bad thing to know that one would never be married, and that one's life was forever plotted out. It was at least secure. "No," she said at last. But he did not respond, and she did not know what else to say, and so they walked in silence again, this time more awkward.
Fortunately, they were not far from the destination he had in mind, which made itself inescapably clear when they rounded a corner on the path and into view came an old ruin.
"Oh!" breathed Kitty. It was a spectacular sight. The roof was almost entirely gone, and the walls were losing the battle with the green things that were taking over the whole place. The floor, or what had been the floor, was largely carpeted in grass, but in the corners which still stood there were wildflowers growing. At the north side, there was a large tree growing behind the structure whose branches were reaching through empty windows and over the top of the wall, giving it a lovely big shaded area with a little stone bench which was still mostly intact. It was one of the most lovely places Kitty had ever seen, and she could not wait to explore it all. She turned back to Mr. Knott, her admiration clear in her expression.
Mr. Knott's face lit up. "Do you like it? I had thought you would."
"It's incredible! What did it used to be?"
"It was a monastery, as I understand from Colonel Fitzwilliam. King Henry VIII had the whole thing burned to the ground when the monks defied him on some point or other—I wasn't clear on what. Apparently he then gave the land to the Darcy family after they did him some favor. Precisely what is lost to history, I'm afraid.
"The Colonel took me out here the day after we arrived. It appears that he and Mr. Darcy used to play here as boys, and it has been a favorite spot of the Darcy family for generations."
"I can see why. Can you imagine bringing a party here to explore together? What a charming afternoon that would be!"
"I would imagine that it is frequently the destination for that very thing. The ruins are convenient enough to make that a popular choice, and set off enough from everything else that you feel as though you had discovered a hidden treasure every time you come across it."
They walked all over it, poking their noses into every area they could reach. Mr. Knott explained what all the rooms used to be, if he knew. He knew most of them.
"You sound almost as though you wish you lived here," Kitty said. "Do you really wish you had been a monk?"
He laughed. "No. But there are things about their lifestyle that appeal to me, I will admit. It would at least be a very clear way of dedicating one's life to God, to join such a place. To sit with one's brothers every day, and worship together, and serve the world around us—it could be a very good life. Just imagine this place, filled with brothers who loved each other and loved God, and tell me you do not understand the appeal just a little bit."
Kitty looked around the dining hall in which they stood, its blackened tables long left to rot into the ground. For half a moment she could see it as it must have been, centuries ago, when the monks gathered here for meals, and perhaps to sing their chants. But she shook her head. "It sounds immensely dull, to be honest."
"Dull! You are not imagining aright. Think of it this way: take the enjoyment you have in serving Pemberley's tenants, and multiply that by the time and the joy you would receive in serving a whole community for a lifetime. For you know, monasteries were not just a place to seclude oneself from the world—not all of them. Some of them were about creating safe places for people who were in trouble, and providing the people nearby with food and spiritual guidance." His eyes shone as he envisioned it. "And they were all about making the ultimate show of devotion, in giving everything up to follow God."
"I do not think I could do that," Kitty said, but her voice was very much softened by his sincerity.
Mr. Knott laughed, and broke the spell. "Neither could I, to be honest. I am sure I would enjoy myself immensely for about a week, and then I would become so miserably bored, and frustrated, that I would do anything to break my vow and leave. I need more variety in my service than a monastery would have been able to provide me."
"I'm sure the monks would have been very offended to hear you say that." Kitty giggled.
"Probably they would have. I'm sure they could tell me seven hundred different reasons why I ought to give up my foolish notions and join them, but there are too many joys in living in the world for me to ever really do it." He smiled a little and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Besides, I don't think I could vow to never marry."
"No," Kitty agreed, "it took me a very long time to get to the point that I could contemplate it. But I don't suppose I would have had much of a choice. I'm sure that if my father had the option, he would have thrown me into a monastery long ago, and had done with me." She sighed and sat down on one of the larger stones that had fallen. "In some ways, it probably would have been much easier for him."
"And much worse for you," Mr. Knott said quietly. He looked down at his shoes, and then slowly started to walk around the perimeter of the huge dining area.
She said nothing when he came back, feeling somehow that it would be rude to interrupt his thoughts. They stood and looked about themselves in silence, until Mr. Knott cleared his throat and gestured to the picnic basket. "Are you hungry? I had a few bites packed for us."
She helped Mr. Knott spread the blanket on one of the larger stones and set out the food he'd brought. It did look delicious: cold meats, fruit, and some of those delicious little rolls that Pemberley's cook made better than anyone. She complimented him on his taste, and was very happy to start in.
Mr. Knott, however, was strangely silent. He responded to everything Kitty said, but no more, and after a little while she stopped trying to engage him in conversation. It wasn't worth it. But she couldn't help wondering, privately, what had gotten into him.
At last he stood before her and said, with some excess of breath, "Miss Bennet, I am afraid that I will have to go away tomorrow, and I do not know when I will be able to come back."
Kitty had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to respond to this, and so did not respond at all. Mr. Knott did not appear to take that as an encouraging sign, as he hesitated and started pacing decided to try to speak instead. "I am very sorry to hear that. I have enjoyed our conversations together, Mr. Knott, very much." She was still very confused, and her expression must have made that plain. He stopped pacing and came to stand in front of her again.
"Thank you, Miss Bennet." His relief was palpable, and Kitty took pity on him. She stood up and took his arm, and gently lead him in a slow circuit of the exterior of the ruin.
"Do you mind my asking what it is that takes you away so suddenly?"
"My mother has taken very ill, and my father thinks that it is best that I come home as quickly as possible."
"I am very sorry!" she said. She could not imagine what he must feel, to be away from home at such a time.
"So am I." He swallowed audibly and pressed on. "I was hoping to be able to spend more time at Pemberley. I have enjoyed the company very much. I was expecting to find the Darcys to be as pleasant as their cousin, and I believe they are, but I was not anticipating as many opportunities for pleasant conversation and exercise as I have found with you. I hope you will permit me to tell you how much I will miss your company, and how much I regret having to leave."
Again, Kitty had no idea how to respond. She felt as though he were expecting a response that she did not know how to provide, and she certainly did not know what it was. Still, he was plainly expecting some answer, and she did her best to make one. "I am sure my brother will give you the living, Mr. Knott, and if that is so, we shall surely meet again. I do not imagine that I will behave myself so terribly that my sister refuses to ever invite me to Pemberley again." She smiled encouragingly at him. "And we still plan to stay for some time yet. If you are able to return sooner than you now appear to fear, we may meet again in a month or two."
"I very much hope that is the case, Miss Bennet. Very much indeed. I had hoped—that is, I felt that you might—would you be glad to see me, if I came back?"
"Of course I would. I am always glad to see a good friend, and you have been a very good friend to me." She thought she understood now; he had not been sure whether their conversations were in the light of friendship or whether she expected him to take on the role of a clergyman to her before he had adopted a flock of his own. There, she was certain, she could set his mind at ease. He was the only clergyman she had ever met whom she would consider a friend.
He thanked her but could not appear to find more to say, and they finished their tour of the ruin with only the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves to listen to. Finally, Kitty could take it no longer, and asked the only question she could think of.
"When do you plan to depart?"
"Today. I ought to have left already, but I wished to—" he glanced at her and cut himself off, shaking his head. "I had a few things left to do."
"Well, I am very glad that you chose to take some time out of your preparations to show me this place!" she said. "I will have to come back here, though I imagine it will not be the same after you are gone."
"I hope it will remind you of me." It was almost a question, so tentative was his tone.
"Of course it will! I could never come here without thinking of the friend who introduced it to me."
Again, he did not respond, and eventually they made it back to the path on which they had arrived. "Should we go back?" she asked, uncertain of what he wanted.
"If you wish it."
"I am entirely at your leisure, but if you need to depart soon, perhaps we should not waste any more time. I am sure your mother will be glad of all the time you can give her."
'Yes, I am sure she will." And he lapsed into silence again. Kitty was getting frustrated with this bizarre conversation. She wished he would just tell her whatever was wrong, but he did not seem so willing to open up to her as she had been willing to open up to him. Perhaps it was a good thing that he was leaving.
But he was the one to break the silence this time, quite suddenly. "You said you lived in the south, Miss Bennet?" he asked with some urgency.
"Yes, in Hertfordshire. We live near Meryton, at Longbourn."
"Do you think I would be welcome there, if I find myself in that area someday?"
"I am certain of it," Kitty said, and she meant it. "My mother would welcome you regardless, and I am sure my father would be happy to see you there." She was not so sure of that, but she could not see why her father would not like Mr. Knott, and he had certainly shown every inclination of appreciating his company, so she felt that she could at least say that with some confidence.
"And would you welcome me, if I were to come?"
"Of course, and gladly. I would be happy to show you around Meryton, if you wish it, though there is very little there which I think would interest you."
"I don't know about that; I think I could find all manner of things to captivate me." As he said this, he stopped and looked into her eyes with such solemn meaning that Kitty began to wonder what he had been saying that entire conversation that she had not been hearing, for this was not an expression that she thought very continuous with what had gone before. But neither she nor Mr. Knott had any opportunity to clarify the matter, as Colonel Fitzwilliam came riding up at that moment in search of Mr. Knott. His face, on approaching, was drawn and grave.
"Knott," he said, "you must come immediately. Your mother—I have a letter. It just arrived express." He held out the document, and Mr. Knott snatched it from his hand, his face pale. It paled further as he read, and when he finished, he sprang into action immediately, almost mechanically.
"Will you see Miss Bennet back?" he asked.
"Yes, yes; take my horse and go. I will meet you there."
Mr. Knott nodded and turned to Kitty. "Forgive me; I would not leave you except in such circumstances, but as it is…" He shrugged helplessly, and turned and fled.
Kitty stared at him, then at Colonel Fitzwilliam. "What…?"
The colonel came around to her side. "His mother has been very ill lately, and his father has sent for him. They fear it is the end. He must move quickly if he is going to reach her in time to say good-bye." He stooped down and began to pack away the picnic things.
Kitty helped him, but her mind was racing away with Mr. Knott. How terrible for him! She wondered how she would feel, if she were away from home and had to be always thinking, always worrying about whether her mother was all right, or whether her health had gotten worse. Her heart went out to Mr. Knott. What a strain he must have been living under! And to have it come to such a conclusion!
The Colonel returned her to the house and promptly left to follow his friend to town. Kitty stared after him, wondering what in the world she was going to do now.