"And you say she loves me?"

Mr. Darcy had confessed all. He had told Bingley how he had wrongfully encouraged him to leave Netherfield, how he had deceived him and withheld information on Miss Bennet's presence in London, and most importantly how he had misinterpreted her feelings for Bingley.

And now he stood, tensely waiting for his closest friend's reaction, fearing that he could never forgive their wrongdoings. For after Darcy's own separation from his lady-love, he despised the thought of being separated from her if she had loved him back. But she did not, and Darcy had hurt her too with his meddling. Darcy could only pray that his friend's gentle temperament would remain in this circumstance and that Bingley would find it in his heart to forgive his traitorous friend.

"Bingley, I cannot speak for Miss Bennet. Her disposition speaks of a shy love, and Miss Elizabeth said that she loved you in April. But for truth, you will have to ask the lady in question."

"Then I shall. Tomorrow morning, when you are in London, you will find me at Longbourn asking the loveliest woman in all of England to be my wife. Wish me luck."

"I wish you luck and happiness. But will you forgive me? My actions were abhorrent and I cannot bear to think of them."

"Then think of them no longer. I know I shall not once I have my angel on my arm. Oh, aren't I lucky, to have the love of such a kind and graceful woman? After tomorrow I fear a smile will be permanently stuck to my face Darcy!"

And so Darcy listened patiently as his lovestruck friend rambled about his angel. He did not worry about the confidence his friend carried for tomorrow's outcome. He firmly believed that Jane loved Bingley. So unlike Darcy's next probable proposal, this outcome both men believed was certain.

Both men retired peacefully that night for the time in months — one, at last, hoping for security in the arms of the one he loved, and the other satisfied that he had finally amended a great wrong against a dear friend.

The sun dawned that morning, and Bingley felt it's brightness paled to that of his angel's smile. The birds sang gaily and he reflected on how her clear voice echoed more beautifully, even when she only spoke. But as he raced over to Longbourn, he could not lament these things for he was sure that the sun shone and the birds sang merely to rejoice that he was in love with the kindest women on Earth. And if one found this self-centered, Bingley could not bring himself to care for he had won the love of this woman so for one day he deserved it.

As he greeted Jane, her sisters, and Mrs. Bennet that morning, Mr. Bingley struggled to restrain himself to remain within the bounds of propriety. However, with all congeniality, he discussed the weather, the hunting, and all sorts of trivial matters with Mrs. Bennet. All he desired was the intimate conversation reserved for lovers. But how was he to go about it?

He considered proposing a walk. Then he feared that only Miss Elizabeth would join he and Jane, and they could not kindly leave their chaperone without a walking partner. He considered requesting an audience with Mr. Bennet first, but he could not stand to let his angel out of his sight.

Right as he could barely resist the urge to drag Jane bodily into the coat closet and propose, he found that Mrs. Bennet had managed to clear the room. Before Bingley could comprehend what was happening, he found an empty room with the door closed and naught but his beloved remained.

Bingley had never openly criticized or gossiped about Mrs. Bennet, like Caroline and Louisa did. Nor had he scowled at her loud outbursts like Darcy had. But his opinions of her were primarily reserved to kind tolerance as a friendly neighbour, and obligatory love to his hopeful future mother-in-law.

Now, he could listen to her raptures every day. What did it matter if she loudly bragged about his fortune or meddled in their relationship? She could matchmake as long as his match was her beautiful daughter.

And that daughter now sat before him, blushing prettily and staring intently at her sewing but making little progress.

And Mr. Bingley fell to his knees.

"Jane," he murmured softly. Her eyes remained cast down. "Dearest Jane," He caught her left hand between his two. She looked up at last, and he smiled.

"When I left Netherfield Park last November, I was desolate. I would hide myself in the house. And when Caroline dragged me out to dinners or balls, I found that all the lovely women only made me think of the infinitely lovelier one I left behind in Hertfordshire. Had I thought you loved me, neither my sisters or a herd of wild horses could have held me back from returning to your side. And when I learned that you were in London that whole time, my heart broke for knowing I could have seen you all that time. But now I have been given new hope that you have loved me all along,"

H.e hesitated, looked down at their joined hands, and back into her soft blue eyes before continuing, "And so dearest, kindest, loveliest Jane, will you consent to make me the happiest man on Earth by marrying me and becoming Mrs. Bingley?"

She smiled. His heart soared. She opened her mouth. He prepared himself for incomparable joy. She withdrew her hand.

"No thank you," she said almost casually, as if turning down a cup of tea rather than the love of her life.

His heart crashed.

"Forgive me, Miss Bennet," he murmured, "I had misunderstood the situation. Please forgive me for imposing on you in such a manner."

And Charles Bingley rose and turned towards the door, dejected and prepared to leave the love of his life forever. But he found he couldn't.

"May I know why?"

Her eyes remained cast down on her forgotten sewing. Her hands trembled unknown to her rejected suitor. For what felt like hours to Bingley she sat in contemplation. At last, she glanced up.

"You hurt me."

The words were simple and sharp, and they hit their target.

"Miss Bennet, I must beseech you to forgive me. I would have never left you if Darcy and Caroline had not convinced me that you did not love me."

"Is not the love between a couple one determined by them? Why would you not determine my feelings for yourself before deciding to abandon me forever?"

He hesitated, before responding, "Darcy has always been a confidante. He has never led me astray in all the years I have known him. I could only trust him."

"And not me?"

He remained silent, ashamed of his failure.

"I followed you to London. I pined after you for months. And when you came back here, I thought perhaps we could be happy. But now I wonder how a man more led by friends than his own instincts could ever make me happy."

Jane rose, and her hands began to shake once again.

" I may hide my feelings, but I follow them. I wish you the best, Mr. Bingley."

She turned her back on the man she still loved, swept past her mother waiting to hear the good news, and hid herself in the bedroom.

A/N: Thank you all for reading! Please review, positively or negatively. I'll just like you more if it's the former, but that doesn't matter if I can improve my work. I am working on the next chapter and will have it out within the week.