Darcy and Bingley had barely reached the end of Longbourn’s gravel drive before Bingley began to whistle a happy, bouncing melody. Darcy could see that his friend had immensely enjoyed the afternoon spent at Jane’s side. As bright as Bingley’s face had been prior to the visit, it was still a pale comparison to the joy that shone on the man’s face now.
“Isn’t it a glorious day, Darcy?” Bingley burst out after a few minutes of whistling.
“It is agreeable,” Darcy agreed. But Bingley shook his head.
“No, no, Darcy!” He said forcefully. “How can you reflect upon our afternoon and declare the day merely ‘agreeable’?”
“Well,” Darcy said dryly. “I believe that I enjoyed the company of that Mr. Collins a fair bit more than you.” And Mrs. Bennet and those younger girls, he added to himself.
“Yes, he was a funny little man, wasn’t he?” Bingley laughed. He clearly viewed Mr. Collins with amusement, not annoyance. Darcy fought the urge to shake his head—Bingley was clearly in a mood that could not be dampened. He was glad for his friend, but that did not mean that he had to join in. Bingley began to whistle once more.
They continued to ride along, and Darcy began to consider Bingley’s assessment. The afternoon had been nice, despite Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet, but perhaps ‘agreeable’ was an ill-fitting term. After the disastrous start to the visit, when Mr. Collins took it upon himself to monopolise all of Darcy’s attention, the afternoon had steadily improved. Once Elizabeth had redirected Mr. Collins in another direction, he and Elizabeth had been free to spend the afternoon talking with one another.
She was a fascinating woman, he again admitted to himself without hesitation. She was well-read, intelligent, humorous and kind. He had been surprised to learn that she had a solid understanding of the politics of the day, and her opinions were entirely her own. He had never thought that a woman could make him reconsider his positions, yet Elizabeth had challenged his thinking in such a way that he found himself questioning. She had not been forceful or blunt, merely curious and open. It was an experience he would not soon forget.
“Darcy,” Bingley burst out suddenly. “I have something I must share.”
“What is it?” Darcy asked slowly, wondering what his friend was thinking.
“I’m in love. With Jane Bennet. And I am thinking of proposing.”
Darcy was surprised; he had recognised that Bingley was interested in Jane. He understood that there was affection blossoming, but he had no idea that Bingley’s feelings had become so strong.
“But you understand how I could feel such things,” Bingley gave Darcy a sly grin. Darcy was confused.
“Whatever do you mean?” He asked.
“Why, Miss Elizabeth, of course,” Bingley said, sounding truly surprised that Darcy had not followed him.
“What about Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.
“I think you should propose as well,” Bingley said in a resolute voice. “Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth are as close as sisters could be. I think they would be quite pleased to marry at the same time.”
“Marriage?” Darcy breathed, shock in his voice. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying, Darcy,” Bingley said in an overly patient voice, “that you and Elizabeth make a fine pair. And do not pretend that you have not thought the same.”
Darcy scowled, embarrassment rising within him. Bingley was speaking of things that Darcy was most uncomfortable with. He was still uncertain of his feelings toward Elizabeth, and here Bingley was, pushing him towards a proposal!
“I find her interesting,” Darcy admitted, his face still cross. “But I hardly think that is the basis for marriage. In fact,” he gave Bingley a hard look, “you are rushing into this awfully quickly, don’t you think? You have known Miss Bennet for, what, two weeks? How can you be certain you love her? That she loves you?”
“She occupies my every waking thought, and my dreams as well,” Bingley said. “I find her to be the most wonderful creature I have ever beheld, and I know that we match each other well. Perhaps my love is new, but I know that it shall grow ever deeper the longer we are together.” Darcy could see his friend had a dreamy look upon his face.
“But what does Miss Bennet think?” He pressed.
“She… Well,” Bingley look hesitant for the first time. “I am… almost certain she has an affection for me as well. She must! Why else would she spend so much time with me? And only me?” His sunny face seemed to draw some clouds. “Of course, she is a devastatingly kind person…”
Darcy could see that his questions were bringing about a melancholy upon his friend. He felt bad, that had not been his intention.
“She likes you,” Darcy assured his friend. He thought that much was true. “But I wonder if you are rushing a bit too much. You do not want to frighten her with the ferocity of your feelings.”
“Perhaps,” Bingley said. He seemed sombre, but Darcy thought he had managed to head off Bingley’s plunge into despondency. “She is shy…”
“She is incredibly shy,” Darcy agreed. “And such a declaration after so short an acquaintance might push her away. She is developing feelings, I am sure of it, but you do not want to push too soon.”
“Like a gust of wind blowing out the sparks of the beginning of a fire,” Bingley said.
“Precisely,” Darcy agreed, glad that Bingley seemed to be hearing sense. His friend was far too likely to go running off without realizing a cliff lay ahead. Darcy did not want his friend to be hurt in this venture, no matter how pleasant Miss Bennet might be.
“You speak wisdom,” Bingley admitted with a sigh. “But I am loath to put off my happy future even one day.”
“I know,” Darcy said comfortingly. “But is it not better to have some assurances first?”
“Yes,” Bingley said with a hint of a sulk. “But I want your promise on something.”
“Anything,” Darcy replied, glad that Bingley was understanding.
“If I am to take my time with Miss Bennet, you must make more of an effort with Miss Elizabeth.”
“I cannot say that I know what you mean,” Darcy said, hating that the conversation had turned back to this.
“Very well. I shall believe you if you say you have no feelings for Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley said, his tone unconvinced. “But I will warn you: she is a rare woman. If you let her go, you may never have another chance with her.”
Darcy looked at his friend and Bingley held his eye for several long moments. Finally, Darcy nodded.
Bingley was correct, and Darcy hated that his friend was so observant. He was being forced to consider feelings and futures that he was not ready for, and it was uncomfortable. However, if he did not think about these things, he might lose any chance with Elizabeth. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. He had never thought that life could be so confusing.