Mr. Johns fled. Kitty did not see where he went; she only knew that he was gone. She was still leaning against the wall, the enormity of what she had done crashing over her again and again. Why had she done that? What had come over her? What could she have been thinking? She didn't even like Mr. Johns! She covered her face with her hands and shook her head again and again but nothing would remove the awful memory of Mr. Knott's face. The betrayal, the hurt, the destruction of all she had not known she wanted until it was gone! She sank to the ground, her knees close to her chest, and cried.
"Miss Bennet, what happened? Why did he attack you? Are you all right?" His voice was quiet but came from very nearby, and she looked up to find him kneeling in the dirt beside her.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, again and again. It was all she could say. She could never say it enough. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." She put her head back down. It hurt too much to look at him.
"Kitty." God, it was her father. Well! He was right about her. She was just like Lydia. Worse than Lydia! Mr. Wickham had at least been able to marry her! "Can you stand, child? We ought to get you home."
The dirt scraped as Mr. Knott stood up. She could not look up. How could she bear to look at either of them? She wished the wall behind her would disappear for a moment, and allow her to fall into whatever lay behind it, as long as it was somewhere she could curl up and be left alone to die. "Did you see where he went?" Mr. Knott asked.
"Johns? No. Did you?" A pause. Kitty trembled. "Well, we know where he lives, and I shall have to call him out over this, I suppose. Come, Kitty." He sighed heavily. "And here I thought I'd managed to avoid dueling." His arms came under hers, and he brought her to her feet. Her hands trembled as she tried again to straighten her bonnet. She kept her eyes on the ground in front of her.
"If you will take her back to Pemberley, I will tell the other ladies where she has gone," Mr. Knott said, his voice low and sad.
If her heart could break again, it did. She had done this to him! She gave a shuddering gasp through her tears. "I'm so sorry!"
"Come along, child. The carriage is waiting for us."
Kitty allowed him to lead her to it and tried to control her sobs. But she had just ruined her entire life, and this time there was no hope for her. How could she help crying?
They were in the carriage and probably quite out of town before Mr. Bennet spoke again. "What happened, Kitty?" His voice was more gentle than she expected, but she could hear the anger underneath it, and she couldn't find the words to answer.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again.
He exhaled sharply. "I gathered that much. What I have not yet determined is how my daughter found herself in a back alley kissing another woman's husband."
She shook her head and cried harder. She hardly knew what happened, let alone how to explain it. "He… kissed me."
"I saw that! How in the world did you even get into a position where he was able to kiss you?"
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head again. She honestly didn't. Everything seemed unreal, and she could not focus on anything. "Everything is ruined."
Her father leaned back in the seat. "Well, that is certain. Have you any other insights?"
"I only want to go to my room." And curl into a little ball of all-consuming regret, forever.
He huffed and folded his arms over his chest. "How lucky for you that your wishes should coincide with your fate so exactly. I'm sure that will make it much easier to bear."
What could she say? She deserved worse. Only that morning, her life had been on a path to a happy establishment with a man she loved, whose engagement to her would have secured his living from Mr. Darcy and answered all her hopes. Now, it was all shattered before her. What a difference one morning could make! Kitty ached, deep in her heart, to somehow go back, to re-do the morning—never to enter the shop, and never to see Mr. Johns. What cared she for Mr. Johns when she could have had Mr. Knott? One man held all the joy her life could give her, and the other only disaster, and she had somehow tricked herself into falling under the spell of the wrong one. How could she have allowed Mr. Johns to flatter her into believing him again? She knew better!
She hardly noticed her father escorting her to her bedroom. She barely took the time to yank off her bonnet and shoes, and throw them angrily into the corner of the room. Then she sank onto the bed and screamed her despair into her pillow.
She only had a few minutes to wallow in her pain, though, for the lock clicked in the door again and Elizabeth peeked her head inside. "Kitty?"
"Go away, Lizzy," she whispered.
But Elizabeth stepped through the door and closed it behind her. "Papa has sent me up to help you pack. He means to depart for Longbourn as soon as you are ready."
Kitty sat up and tried to sniff back her tears. Of course he would waste no time, and neither could she… she should want nothing more than to leave the country as quickly as possible… but the thought of actually leaving made her feel even worse. "I can't," she whispered.
"I know it's hard, dear, but if we're to preserve your reputation we need to move quickly." She pulled out Kitty's trunk, but Kitty did not move. Who could think about clothes at a time like this? Throw them in the trunks however they would fit; wrinkle and destroy them; what would it matter? She would have no need of them ever again. She would never leave her room.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Elizabeth asked. She came over and sat on the bed beside Kitty, and started to rub her back gently. The motherly gesture sent Kitty into sobs all over again, but she tried to tell her story. It came out disjointed and confused, but Elizabeth did not ask any questions until she lapsed into silence.
"So he forced himself on you?"
Kitty nodded, then shook her head, and then shrugged. "I did nothing much to stop him. I—I didn't know what to do. It all happened so quickly, and I thought he was just going to apologize, and that's what it was, and then he was kissing me." She swallowed hard but she couldn't stop herself from adding, in the smallest whisper, "I actually enjoyed it… for a moment."
"Oh, Kitty." The disappointment in her voice made Kitty flinch.
"Only until I came to my senses! It… he… I don't know what he did to me! I knew he should stop, I knew I should stop him, but I couldn't. Until…" Until Mr. Knott found them. She couldn't acknowledge it out loud. She only cried more.
Elizabeth hugged her awkwardly with one arm, and let her control herself again. When her sobs had turned back to sniffles, she said quietly, "Fortunately, I do not think anyone knows of this except Papa, Mr. Knott, Georgiana, and me. So your reputation is secure, provided that Mr. Johns does not speak. And Mr. Darcy will ensure that he does not, when I tell him of it."
"Must you tell him?" Kitty asked, shuddering. She had got over some of her fear of Mr. Darcy since living in his house, but she could not imagine how she would spend three seconds in his presence ever again, if he knew.
"If he is to help protect your reputation, he must know of the threat to it, dear," Elizabeth said. "He did the same for Lydia, you know." Kitty sniffed. She did not know that story, exactly, but she did not care enough to ask. Elizabeth continued, "He fiercely defends those he loves, and as you are now his family, that includes you." She smiled sadly, and patted Kitty's arm. "We must begin packing. Papa wants no delays."
Kitty allowed her to help her stand up and walk over to the wardrobe. She packed mechanically, hardly even seeing the things she was putting away, and more than once Elizabeth had to ask her what she had intended to do with some article that had been poorly placed. Kitty always answered with a shrug—intent had no part in her actions. Lizzy would sigh and find a way to pack it without her sister's help.
They were not halfway finished when the door banged open and Mr. Bennet stood in the doorway. "What is taking so long? I had intended to be on the road by now."
Elizabeth glanced at Kitty, who was silent and avoiding even looking at her father, and answered. "We are still packing, sir. I promise to send her down as soon as we are finished."
"Does she have enough to get her through the journey to Longbourn?"
"What?"
"Close up that trunk and send it down. The rest can be sent to Longbourn after it is packed; if the expense troubles you, I shall pay for it myself."
"Papa, you know that the expense does not matter, but for Kitty's sake, give her enough time to finish packing her things the way she wants them. You will be on your way soon enough."
But Mr. Bennet would not hear of further delay, and when Kitty did not answer Elizabeth's plea for support, carried his point. Within ten minutes, Kitty was back in the carriage, ready to begin the journey home. At the last possible moment Elizabeth pressed a letter into her hand, Kitty's name hastily scribbled in Georgiana's handwriting. Kitty could not muster more than a whispered thanks before the carriage door was shut behind her and they were on their way.
At first, Mr. Bennet was silent, and as Kitty had no inclination to say anything either, the only sound was the creaking of the carriage and clanging of the horses' tack. However, Mr. Bennet could not hold his fury back forever.
"How could you do such a thing?"
Kitty said nothing; she did not know how.
"You had to have known that nothing good could come of it! What did you expect from him? Did you hope that he might set you up as his mistress? A fine situation for a gentleman's daughter! Or did you suppose that no one would ever notice? Had you met so often in private that it no longer mattered whether anyone knew? Or were your private indiscretions no longer exciting enough for you? You met together often enough that the risk of discovery in the house was no longer enough for you. You had to seek more thrills by taking your dishonor public—like a common whore!"
That insult was enough to elicit a choked "No! Never!" from her, but Mr. Bennet hardly noticed.
"Couldn't bear to be outdone by your younger sister, I suppose. Why should Lydia have all the scandal? You must have your share, and more besides. What would have happened if someone with less discretion than Mr. Knott had found you? You were not exactly well hidden back there. Anyone could easily have seen you!"
Kitty stared out the window, resolved only to never think of Mr. Knott again—it would destroy her to dwell on him, she was sure. What he must think of her!
Mr. Bennet threw up his hands and said no more for the present, but he was never silent long. He alternated between stony silence and fiery rage for the entire trip home. It was, Kitty thought, the longest journey anyone had ever undertaken. She was relieved when she came home and could flee to her own room. Her father would have to deal with her mother's confusion. She was happy to let him tell her anything he wished; he would say nothing that she did not deserve, and if he valued keeping Kitty's disgrace quiet, he would tell her very little indeed.
Kitty was exhausted, but too despondent to sleep, and so she acted on her resolution to never think of Mr. Knott by wondering, every ten minutes or so, what he might be doing, and who he would marry now that he would not marry her.