Belinda Roberts - Mr. Darcy Goes Overboard: A Tale of Tide & Prejudice

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Bennet in a tone quite different from that she had used to greet Bingley.

“It’s that miserable, moody man who always looks as if he’s swallowed a lump of granite,” said Kitty too loudly. “And he’s got a horrible hairy chest. Like a gorilla!”

Lizzy, who had taken such pleasure in observing Jane, was paralysed. Darcy was not invited in by Mrs Bennet, and so his conversation, being conducted from a distance, was restricted, although he did ask Lizzy if she had seen her uncle or aunt of late.

When the time came for the two gentlemen to leave, Mrs Bennet took the opportunity to invite Bingley to join them for a picnic at Starehole Bay the following day.

“Wicked,” replied Bingley, which Mrs Bennet took as a “yes.”

It was a blustery day as the party set off for the little beach, a not inconsiderable walk along the Devonshire coastline. The path was uneven and rocky in places, and Lizzy was happy to note Bingley grasping Jane’s arm from time to time to prevent himself from slipping. They passed Sharp Tor, and crossing the stream, made the descent down to Starehole Bay. Mrs Bennet was all shrieks and alarm as the shaly ground constantly threatened to slip from beneath her and in the end got the better of her, and she tumbled the last forty feet, taking with her Darcy, who had surprised all by coming along, too, and had been leading the way, alone with his own thoughts. Lizzy was mortified to see her mother grasping at Darcy as she fell, pulling him with her down the remainder of the path, onto the beach, where Mrs Bennet fell in a heap. To his credit, Darcy helped her to her feet, and they brushed themselves down and waited for the remainder of the party to make a more genteel entrance onto the sandy shore.

The picnic was spread out, and the girls wrapped themselves in towels, and shrieking, wriggling and hopping about on one leg and then another, changed into their bikinis. Bingley and Darcy coyly retired to the rocks for their changing room. When they emerged in swimming trunks, the girls could not fail to be impressed. Bingley was slim and trim, and Jane had eyes only for him. But as for Mr Darcy! Fit, muscular, glowing. A silent gasp uttered by the remaining group of women left them openmouthed as he approached across the sands. Only Mary was unable to restrain herself, and to her embarrassment, let out a squeak, quickly covering her mouth to prevent further eruptions and then burrowing into her bag for her physics textbook Electric Surges to divert her mind and recover her reputation. Kitty broke the ice and suggested a game of volleyball before lunch. Bingley and Darcy were selected to pick teams. Lizzy was desperate to see if Bingley would choose Jane first, which he did. Jane went and stood by him, both only too aware of the proximity of their nearly naked bodies.

“Splendid!” cried Bingley. “Now, Darcy,” he enthused, desperately trying to divert his own attention from the attractions of Jane, “your turn!”

Darcy stared at the three sisters before him. Three young women in swimwear. It was hard to think with his usual clarity. His eyes moved swiftly from Kitty to Mary to Lizzy, where they stopped, taking her all in from head to toe to head, where they locked with Lizzy’s. After a full two minutes, Lizzy felt impelled to turn away, but Darcy still did not speak.

“Come now, Darcy!” encouraged Bingley. “I must have you choose. I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner. If you do not hurry, the tide will have come up and drowned us all before we have had a chance to even throw the ball.”

Darcy opened his mouth, and still looking as if in a trance at Lizzy, so tempting, clad in so very little, said very slowly, “Mary.”

Lizzy, it must be said, felt some disappointment but smiled gamely, and in the event, ended up on Bingley’s team. This did give her the opportunity to observe Darcy at length, who was observing her rather than the ball, and this, combined with Jane and Bingley both inclined to say “After you” before hitting the ball, led to a poor standard of play. This, however, could not keep the young people’s spirits down, and once the game was complete, there was a general dash into the sea. Much splashing followed, and Kitty dared them all to a swimming race to Bellhouse Rock and back. Lizzy found herself swimming beside Darcy, and they had a few polite words about Durham until mountains of surf reduced conversation to small exclamations. They all reached Bellhouse Rock successfully and sat to get their breath until someone said, “Where’s Mary?”

“Help! Help!” came a thin cry from the seas.

Mary was in the process of drowning. Bingley and Darcy gamely dived in and hauled her out of the water, and while Bingley pumped her chest, it fell to Darcy, reluctantly some would say, to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Lizzy was ablaze with emotion as she watched. She almost felt it would have been worth nearly drowning herself for such salvation. But she had rejected him once. Who could possibly expect that a man such as Darcy would ever repeat his overtures? No. It was over. Silly girl.

Back on the beach, everyone declared the picnic a great success: marmite sandwiches had never tasted so good, and the prawns made only one person ill. The party returned to Salcombe in high spirits, Jane especially walking on air.

The next day was the crab-catching competition. The Bennet girls were all lined up happily on Victoria Quay, dangling their lines into the salty waters and hoping for a big catch. Mrs Bennet was in charge of the net, and every time one of her daughters carefully pulled up a little fellow, she was so ham-fisted, swinging the net about, that she knocked the catch back into the water. It was a most frustrating business, especially as nearly everyone else along the quay kept calling out “Caught another!” in a most irritating manner.

Mrs Bennet was on the verge of giving up when the most amazing sight caught her eye. Mr Bingley rowing towards them! He looked so very perky, and there was clearly a bottle of Veuve Clicquot in an ice bucket and two glasses in a picnic basket in the boat and a jewellery box that most certainly was inscribed with “Tiffany” on the lid that, with a mother’s instinct, she knew instantly something was up.

“My dear Jane! He is come! Make haste! Make haste!”

But within seconds, Bingley was upon them.

“Oh, Mr Bingley!” said Mrs Bennet, feigning surprise. “Are you partial to crabbing? Do step out of your boat and come and join us.”

“Splendid!” replied Bingley, remaining in his boat and making no attempt to get out.

“Such a delightful sport, don’t you think, Mr Bingley?”

“Yes. Absolutely splendid!”

Silence ensued. After a while, Kitty said, “Chas, do you think you could go away? I think you’re disturbing the crabs. I’ve not had one bite like since you appeared.”

“Kitty!” said Mrs Bennet, outraged, and winked at her ferociously.

“Why are you like winking at me, Mother?” asked Kitty.

“I am not winking at you! But now thinking about it, I have some business with you. Come with me.”

Mrs Bennet managed to remove Kitty to the bench, where Mary was already perched reading Quantum Physics for Dummies (the last two words carefully deleted), and Lizzy was forced to give up her crabbing spot by her mother returning and demanding that she had some business with her, too. Apart from seventy-three children under eight, forty-nine yummy mummies, sixteen merchant bankers, nine ex–hedge fund managers, twelve ex-bankers, two barristers, twelve judges, and eighty-one exhausted grandparents, Bingley and Jane were left quite, quite alone.

“Jane!” began Bingley, standing up. “I… I…”

The rowing boat wobbled dangerously.

“I… I…”

Jane could hardly breathe in anticipation.

“I… I…” continued Bingley, bobbing up and down, “cannot balance…”

Bingley wobbled again and a gasp went up from the spectators and one judge even removed his wig, ready to jump in to the rescue of a potentially drowning man, but Bingley regained control of himself and the boat.

“…very well. But you would do me the greatest honour…”

At this point, Bingley knelt in the boat on one knee “and make me the most splendidly happiest man in the world if you would ma…”

Bingley and the boat wobbled dangerously.

“…marry me?”

The crowd were now captivated, and all eyes turned to Jane. Before she could speak, Bingley went on. “Dearest, darling, quite delightful Jane. Say yes! Oh please say yes! I have a ring!”

Bingley opened the Tiffany box. If the day had been sunny and bright before, the dazzling light shining from the ring within drew a gasp from the crowd. Bingley reached up, and taking Jane’s hand, slipped the ring on her finger. Bingley held the lovely, slim, white, now-bejewelled hand, waiting for her answer.

As the boat drifted away from shore, Bingley was left suspended for a moment, not on dry land, not in the boat, but somewhere hovering in between, just long enough to hear Jane reply, “I will!” before he fell in ecstasy into the water.

He emerged to see the beautiful face of his dear Jane searching for him, and he rose triumphant to place, for the first time, a kiss on those heavenly lips.

Clapping erupted from the crabbers, young and old, and there was not a dry eye on the quayside, half tears of emotion, half salty water from the giant splash Jane made as Bingley inadvertently pulled her in. But who cared when such happiness abounded? Who cared when two young people were caught in such a splendid, delightful, seaweedy entanglement of love?