Page 85 of Shipwrecked with Mr Darcy

“I know.”

“Today. This afternoon. If she will see me. If she — Darcy, do you think she will have me?”

The question was painfully earnest. Bingley's hope was so naked that Darcy found it difficult to look at him. He had nearly destroyed this man's happiness; he felt he had no right to predict its fulfilment.

“I am the last man in England qualified to judge Miss Bennet's feelings,” Darcy said heavily. “My blindness nearly cost you everything. But Elizabeth assures me that her sister never stopped loving you during your absence. I owe you an apology for my arrogant interference, Charles.”

Bingley was quiet for a moment.

“You have already delivered it,” Bingley said warmly. “You wrote to me with honesty. I could not ask for a better friend.”

“I proved a very poor friend to you last winter.”

“That is in the past,” Bingley insisted, clapping Darcy on the shoulder. “Now, tell me, should I wear the blue coat or the grey?”

“The blue,” Darcy said immediately.

“You did not even consider it!”

“The blue coat fits you perfectly, Charles. It will lend you the confidence you currently lack.”

Bingley ran a hand through his hair. “I have been pacing my room for a week trying to compose a speech.”

“Then you certainly need the blue coat,” Darcy offered a rare, genuine smile.

Bingley laughed, the sound nervous but happy. Darcy felt a surge of affection for the friend he had nearly lost, humbled by Bingley's easy grace.

They walked back to Longbourn in companionable silence. Bingley was preparing to change his life, and Darcy knew from recent experience that no amount of preparation would be adequate.

Elizabeth was in the garden when she saw them come through the gate. Bingley wore the blue coat, his face pale with determination. Darcy walked beside him like a steadfast second.

Bingley hurried into the house. Darcy crossed the lawn to Elizabeth.

“He is going to ask her,” Darcy said.

“I know,” she smiled softly. “He has been gathering his courage all week.”

“He asked me whether I thought she would accept him.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told him I was unqualified to judge her feelings, and advised him to wear the blue coat.”

“The blue coat was an excellent choice.”

“I thought so.”

They stood quietly in the warm September garden. The drawing room window was open. They could not hear the words, but they heard the cadence of the voices change. Bingley's nervous chatter ceased. He spoke again, his tone low, steady, and far more serious than Elizabeth had ever heard it.

A long silence followed.

Then came Jane's voice. Elizabeth could not distinguish the word, but she knew the joyous, weeping tone.

“Yes,” Elizabeth whispered into the quiet garden.

Darcy took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. They stood together, grateful that they had managed to repair the damage they had caused.

Mrs Bennet's triumphant voice suddenly erupted from the house, startling the birds from the garden hedge. The volume of her joy was extraordinary, and for once, appropriate.