Miss Pratt's plan weighed on Kitty for the whole evening. Half the time, she couldn't bring herself to believe that anyone could be so deluded about reality—Kitty did not honestly think that Colonel Fitzwilliam thought about Miss Pratt as anything other than a friend of his ward, if he thought of her at all. But she couldn't help wondering if she should warn him of what might be in the works. She would hate to see him entrapped by a young lady who had so far proven herself to be entirely insensible to the kind of man he was, and the kinds of signals he was giving.
She tossed and turned through the night, wondering what was to be done, but by morning she had decided on a course of action: she would tell Elizabeth, and let her decide whether to warn the Colonel or allow events to play out how they would. That, she was sure, would ease her conscience and absolve her from the responsibility of deciding what to do about the situation herself.
The next morning answered her wishes when she arrived in the breakfast room and only Elizabeth and Georgiana were there. "Where is everyone?"
"I believe the gentlemen ate early; they were planning to ride out to the south fields today and wanted an earlier start," Elizabeth said.
"And Miss Pratt has gone to Lambton."
Kitty frowned. "Again? Forgive me, but I cannot see why she is so enthralled with Lambton. There is little enough there, and the shops have so little variety that she must have seen it all by now."
"Yes," said Georgiana, "but I think she is used to a greater variety of company than we have at Pemberley, and Lambton does at least offer a new group of people to talk to."
"No one in our social circle, surely," Elizabeth said.
Georgiana could only shrug, and Kitty had no answer either. But since Miss Pratt's convenient absence gave her the opportunity she was looking for, she was not inclined to press the issue. She gave them a brief summary of the conversation she'd had with Amy last night.
"I don't know whether I believe her," she concluded, "and I don't know if Colonel Fitzwilliam ought to be warned so he might be put on his guard. I can hardly believe that Miss Pratt would be capable of such things, but at the same time…" She shook her head helplessly.
"I do not even know what to say," Georgiana said, her hand clenched around her knife.
Elizabeth laughed. "I do. Don't worry about the Colonel, Kitty. He is not naive enough to fall for that kind of thing, even if Miss Pratt does try to do something."
"But if she does succeed…"
"She won't! Colonel Fitzwilliam has been in the world long enough to understand that some women do not play by the rules of propriety. And I don't believe that Miss Pratt would really do that. She might talk of it, to shock you and persuade you to help her find other ways to attract him, but she would never act on it."
"I cannot believe that," Kitty said firmly. Of all that she knew about Amelia Pratt, she had never seen anything to make her suspect that she might not do something improper that she'd threatened to do. She had certainly encouraged Kitty to do enough!
Of course, Elizabeth didn't know that. "She is not a very well-bred young woman, I'm afraid, but I have no reason to believe her that bad," she said.
"I have been wondering whether we should write to her mother and see if we can send her home early," Georgiana said.
"Georgiana! That's a little too far for what amounts to nothing more than an idle threat, even if it is against your cousin."
"It's not just that, Lizzy. It's… she's not the girl I grew up with. She is coarse, and selfish, and no great companion. If I had known, or even suspected, I never would have asked her here." She looked ashamed of herself to be saying such things, but Kitty could not help agreeing with her. She would have regretted extending the invitation, too.
"You could not have known how this visit would turn out; do not blame yourself. She is misguided, I am sure, but that is no reason for us to evict her from our house. If she were to violate our trust in such a way as Kitty says she proposed, then we might be able to justify asking her to leave, but until then, it is absolutely unthinkable that she should be sent home."
"I know. But I suppose…" Her shoulders slumped as she sighed and she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I was only giving vent to my frustrations."
Kitty smiled at her. She understood that very well. "So what can we do?" she asked. "You must at least tell the Colonel of what I've told you, so he can decide how to act. I don't think it would be right to come from me, but from you, he might take heed enough to do something about it. He can at least be more vigilant."
Elizabeth sighed. "I'll tell him to keep a watch for what Miss Pratt may do, but honestly, Kitty, I don't think it will matter."
"Please, just tell him. I will feel so much better about it if you do."
"If you would rather not tell him, Lizzy, I would be happy to. I think Kitty is right; he deserves to know, so he can decide how to act."
"It will not change his behavior toward Miss Pratt or anyone else. He is always on his guard," Elizabeth said. But she promised that she would mention it, and with that Kitty had to be content. "Now, let's say no more of it. Kitty, have you given any more thought to what you might say to Mr. Knott?"
"Yes, and I still have no idea whether I should accept him or not," Kitty said miserably. She was not pleased to be forced to admit it. She felt like a failure for her continued uncertainty; her mother would be furious, if she knew of it.
But Elizabeth was not angry. If anything, she was pleased, though surprised. "It is good to hear that you are considering it so carefully," she said. "But you will not be able to remain uncertain forever. At some point, you will be required to decide how you feel."
"I might not," Kitty insisted. "He might not propose."
Elizabeth and Georgiana exchanged smiles. "I highly doubt that!" Elizabeth said.
Kitty didn't know whether she found that comforting or not.
A few days later, Kitty found an opportunity to slip out of the house for a solitary stroll through the gardens. She wanted a chance to think through the matter of Mr. Knott, but she kept wondering what would become of her when she returned to Longbourn. She had hoped that she might join the Bingleys at their new house, but her mother, judging by her letters, was not willing to allow that to happen; she wanted Kitty home for Mary's wedding. Mr. Warde, it seemed, was well on his way to scraping together enough money to keep himself and Mary comfortably in Meryton, so they planned on having the banns read soon.
Kitty was not excited at the idea of going to Mary's wedding at all, but her mother insisted that she be there to act as bridesmaid, and she could not find a good enough reason to object. The question that weighed on her mind was whether Mr. Knott would return to Pemberley in time, and if he did not, whether she would be able to receive him at Longbourn. She had decided to act as though she was certain that he meant to propose, but she still had not decided whether or not to accept him. If she was to go home, however, she realized that Mrs. Bennet would not allow her to decline. It would be Lizzy and Mr. Collins all over again, and Kitty had neither her sister's strength nor her father's support. If she wished to decline, she would have to do so at Pemberley.
She was, for the most part, resigned to accepting him, but she worried that it was merely out of the quiet certainty that it was the only offer she would ever receive. She believed that she could be reasonably happy with him, but she was not so in love with him that she felt she could live with no other, and there was a small, vocal part of her mind that insisted that she was betraying herself for not being willing to wait and trust that a true, passionate love would come to her in time. When that voice spoke, she believed she could not allow herself to marry Mr. Knott, no matter how kind he was, for kindness did not equal love, and how miserable must it be to be married to a man one only likes!
Someone ran up behind her, distracting her from her thoughts; she turned and found Miss Pratt, who was smiling broadly. "Kitty! You will never believe who is coming up the drive right now!"
Her stomach clenched. Mr. Knott! And she had not at all settled how she would answer him.
"It is Mr. Johns," Amy continued, "and he is actually coming up to Pemberley's front door!"
"Mr. Johns?" Kitty repeated dumbly. What—how—why on earth would he dare coming back? "Well, Mr. Darcy will soon set him straight, I imagine." She said it with conviction but inwardly she was not at all certain that he would. It would be very difficult for a gentleman to cast out someone who was not only a prominent neighbor, but one whom the neighborhood particularly wished to retain.
"That's what Mrs. Darcy said. And I think he will; Mr. Darcy is going out to the front to meet him, and I imagine he means to tell him off. Come watch with me! It will be such fun to see him set Mr. Johns down." She grabbed Kitty's arm and tried to pull her along, but Kitty snatched it back. She did not at all feel equal to seeing him—not when the mere mention of his name was enough to send her reeling back into the confusion she'd felt when she first found out about his wife. She never wanted to see him again.
"You go on," she stammered. "You can tell me all about it after he leaves."
"Don't be ridiculous. What are you afraid of? He won't even see you."
"I hope he does not! But I have no desire to see him."
Miss Pratt rolled her eyes. "You are being ridiculous. The last time you almost saw him in a shop you wanted to go talk to him. Nothing has changed in so short a time, has it?"
"Perhaps it has; I only want to forget him."
Miss Pratt stared at her, and Kitty met her gaze without flinching, however uncomfortable it made her. Finally, Miss Pratt shrugged. "Have it your way, then. I'm going to go listen in."
Kitty shook her head and watched her run away. She wondered if she was feeling a fraction of what Georgiana felt, on finding Amy so different a friend than what she had first thought. She did not want to dwell on it.
Instead she walked out away from the house, toward a path that would give her enough of a view of the lane that she could see when Mr. Johns left and know it was safe to go back. She tried to go back to her former train of thought, but Miss Pratt had effectively destroyed it. All she could think of now was how glad she was to have missed Mr. Johns. And wonder what he might be saying to Mr. Darcy. Could he have come to offer an apology? What apology might he have to give? On behalf of his wife, perhaps—though, without her there to say it, it would ring rather flat. And for himself, all he was really guilty of was concealing the existence of his wife, and letting Kitty make a fool of herself with him. There was nothing, not really, to accuse him of, other than thoughtlessness, and that was not a sin that was generally condemned in such cases.
She wandered for some time with these thoughts, without any satisfaction at all, and without any sign that he was leaving. After a while, she began to suspect that she must have missed him. Should she just go back? If she came in through the kitchen, she would certainly avoid any chance of meeting him. And if she saw Miss Pratt after, she would know it was over and she was safe. She turned to go back, her course of action set—and Mr. Johns himself stepped onto the path in front of her.
"Miss Bennet." He bowed deeply, sweeping his hat from his head in a cunning display of grace and gallantry.
"Mr. Johns?" She fought to keep her expression neutral, but she didn't think she'd been very successful. "What are you doing here?" That definitely did not sound neutral, and he looked wounded at her tone.
"I came to apologize to you, and Mr. Darcy would not even allow me in the house. I have been given to understand—that is, I suspect—you see, I had no idea of ever making myself anything more than a friend to you, and I'm very sorry to learn that you came to believe anything else of me. I thought only to enjoy your company while I was here, not to engage your expectations."
The sincerity with which he uttered this did not convince her of its truthfulness. She couldn't quite keep her tone from showing her hurt and growing anger. "Why did you not just tell us that you were married? Surely that would have resolved any uncertainty on my part." There could be no good excuse for that, she was certain.
He sighed and tugged at the little finger of his glove. "I came here wishing to forget that fact myself. You see, my wife and I do not get on very well—to own the truth, I believe she despises me as much as I do her. I had hoped that, by coming to Edgepark and improving it, I would have a retreat from her. She prefers to live in Town, you see, and was quite opposed to any mention of living in the country some day. But I was quite mistaken in my estimate of her determination to make me miserable. She followed me here when she heard a rumor that I was making love to some other girl, and when she arrived, she fixed on my mention of you as evidence that the girl in question was you. I had intended to come and warn you, that day and explain myself then, but before I could summon the courage to speak, she came sweeping in. She has a habit of doing that—of descending upon people precisely when they do not want her."
His evident misery softened her heart a little bit, but only strengthened the sternness of her response. "Had you only mentioned it beforehand, it would not have been a problem, and I would not—we would not be in this situation."
"I know," he moaned. "If I were not such a coward—if I had not so wholly deluded myself into believing that I had control of the situation—but you must understand, Miss Bennet that if I were free, you would have been my choice. I enjoyed nothing so much as the time I spent in your company. And when I contrast your company to that of Mrs. Johns, I am completely miserable."
"Well," Kitty said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I have always found 'if' to be a very unsatisfactory word. Pray excuse me; I am certain to be wanted at the house." She hurried past him and did not slow when she heard him calling her name behind her. It felt good to leave him bewildered this time.