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It was then that Elizabeth realized why she had found the scene so moving. Such actions by a quiet, serious man spoke of a profound affection and trust. He was not one to display his deepest feelings for all the world to see, making the gift of such openness that much more precious.

Watching the moonlight filter through her aunt’s curtains, Elizabeth could no longer deny that Mr. Darcy had always affected her.

She had immediately perceived that he was an exceptionally handsome man and it was that admiration that had left her so hurt by his rude dismissal of her own person at the Meryton assembly.

Had he not intrigued her, she would have easily brushed aside his slight.

Instead, she had turned the entire scenario into a great joke and spread the story among her neighbors, unconsciously attempting to hurt his feelings as much as he had hurt hers.

Lizzy hugged her pillow and sighed. She wished that she and Mr. Darcy might start afresh but it did not seem possible.

First, it was unlikely that she would ever meet that gentleman again and second, there was surely too much between them to form an indifferent acquaintance (much less a friendship).

Not given to melancholy, Elizabeth told herself sternly that she would remember the past only as it gave her pleasure.

Certainly her acquaintance with Mr. Darcy had taught her a great deal about herself.

Not much later, Elizabeth drifted off to sleep. If she dreamt of dancing on a moonlit sidewalk with a quiet gentleman from Derbyshire, she did not allow herself to dwell upon it extensively in the morning.

Several days later, Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth went for their final fittings at the dressmaker’s.

The two older women watched with pleasure as Elizabeth modeled her ball gown.

The style was simpler than the current high fashions and Lizzy entertained them with an imitation of her mother demanding “more lace, more feathers!”

However, it was easy to see that the young lady was well-pleased.

The color brought a glow to her skin and the classic, elegant lines of the style complimented her figure without making her feel exposed.

Although Mrs. Bennet always made sure that all of her daughters were well-dressed, for reasons of economy Lizzy often forwent new dresses to remake one of Jane’s.

By combining their allowances, the sisters were able to purchase more expensive fabrics and notions.

Although she had never complained, Elizabeth was struck by how nice it was to have a gown made just for her; to choose colors and fabrics that complimented her dark hair rather than Jane’s light tresses.

Although she was not ready to admit it aloud, Lizzy had considered some of her aunt’s advice.

She still considered her sister to be one of the most beautiful women of her acquaintance but away from their mother’s constant criticisms, Elizabeth began to think that beauty might not be the sole property of the golden-haired folk.

It was in this mood of self-reevaluation that Elizabeth arrived at the Carlisles’ ball.

On her uncle’s arm, she was introduced to the host and hostess as they moved through the receiving line.

In short order, her attention was drawn to the glittering throng filling a seemingly endless series of rooms. Her focus was recaptured when her uncle’s arm drew her forward and in short order she was introduced to several of the Gardiners’ acquaintances.

Not wishing to be lost in the crush, Elizabeth attempted to keep one eye on her aunt and uncle while making conversation with two gentlemen and a lady.

Though she attempted to remain open-minded, Elizabeth rapidly found herself bored with the exchange.

The gentlemen seemed only interested in discussing a recent horse race and the lady did nothing but agree with every word they said.

It was with some relief that Lizzy watched a tall, dark-haired gentleman join their group. When he was introduced as Lord Edward Fitzwilliam, Viscount Ashbourne and eldest son of the Earl of Matlock, she realized that she had unconsciously recognized a similarity in his features to others she knew.

“Lord Ashbourne, I believe I met several of your relations recently; Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy,” she offered after her curtsy.

The dark eyes that focused on her were like Mr. Darcy’s in color but the different feeling in them nearly made her gasp out loud. Where Mr. Darcy’s eyes always left her curious as to what was going on behind them, Lord Ashbourne’s orbs were like hard stones.

With little attempt at civility, the gentleman replied coldly, “Is that so, Miss… err… Bennet.” Moments later, however, his gaze swept down her figure with enough attentiveness that it left her feeling unclean.

With no immediate excuse to politely detach herself from the group, Elizabeth attempted to distract his roving eye with conversation. “Yes; we met several times in Kent. I understood that they were visiting your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

Lord Ashbourne eyed her with a bit more interest. “Indeed. And are you from that part of the country, Miss Bennet?”

In this instance, Elizabeth had no qualms with trusting her instincts.

She had no wish for this man to know anything about her (particularly where she might live), peer’s son or not.

“No, sir. I was visiting my cousin and his new wife. She is a dear friend of mine, and they only recently settled into the Hunsford parsonage.”

The gentleman’s eyes rose from his study of her bosom and Lizzy was only barely able to restrain herself from crossing her arms over her chest. “Your cousin is Aunt Catherine’s curate?” he inquired without attempting to disguise a sneer.

Though she had no great respect for Mr. Collins, Elizabeth felt her courage rising to defend him and her family. It is perhaps lucky that she was interrupted before she erupted .

Mrs. Emma Watson, cousin and close friend of Mrs. Gardiner, appeared at Elizabeth’s elbow. Greeting the others with the ease of a veteran of London Society, she gently detached her friend’s niece and guided her through the crush to another room that was only slightly less full.

When they joined Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth managed to squeeze the lady’s hand in gratitude. “Thank you, Mrs. Watson. I was having some difficulty making a polite exit.”

The older lady smiled and patted the girl’s hand.

“Not at all.” Lowering her voice, she spoke so that only Elizabeth could hear.

“Lord Ashbourne is not someone with whom you would wish to be acquainted. He may be the Earl of Matlock’s heir but he is nothing like the rest of the family.

” She paused, clearly trying to find a delicate way to word her warning, and then spoke even more softly in Elizabeth’s ear.

“Suffice it to say that all the money and connections of the Fitzwilliam family can only cover up so many of his… activities.”

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully and soon Mrs. Watson was involved in conversation with the Gardiners and several acquaintances.

Lizzy remained quiet for some minutes as she considered the lady’s warning.

Although she was saddened to hear such a thing of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s brother (and, if she were honest, Mr. Darcy’s close relation), she was somewhat relieved that her instincts against a gentleman appeared to be well-founded for once.

It also occurred to her that where one Fitzwilliam had appeared, a brother might be in attendance (and perhaps also a cousin).

However, the ball was spread out among a seemingly endless series of rooms and soon she was distracted by the entreaties of several gentlemen to dance.

The remainder of the night passed in a swirl of dancing and new acquaintances such that it was nearly dawn before Elizabeth finally fell into her bed.

When she awoke later that morning, her feet were still sore (not all the gentlemen had been as adept as Sir William Lucas would have expected, regardless of how much time they spent at St. James), but she felt happier than she had in weeks.

Lying in bed, she contemplated the reasons for her raised spirits.

Elizabeth had never attended such a grand ball nor mixed with the first circles so intimately.

The Bennets were old and established members of the gentry, but they had never been ones to strive for connections or advancement into the peerage.

Indeed, Mr. Thomas Bennet had actively avoided London Society for much of his life, although he did allow his eldest daughters to participate in events when they visited the Gardiners.

In a moment of insight, Elizabeth realized that part of her elation after the ball was relief.

She had felt comfortable circulating among those people.

She had not been intimidated, overwhelmed, or embarrassed.

She had felt beautiful and admired but had maintained the irreverent view of the world that she had learned at her father’s knee, taking nothing too seriously.

They were just people, after all. Some had been ridiculous in their pursuit of high fashion, ladies with their feathered and bejeweled turbans and the gentlemen with their intricately knotted cravats and wildly hued coats.

A few, such as Lord Ashbourne, had seemed positively predatory in their proclivities, but she had eased away from them without much fuss.

She had met several ladies that she would like to know better, having sensed kindred spirits during their brief exchanges between dances.