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On the night of the masquerade, Elizabeth relished the chance to put all her worries down for one evening and simply enjoy the ball.

She felt absolutely divine, and if her family was to be believed, she looked it, too.

The night of the assembly had finally come, hurried along by the need to pay a great deal of attention to her dress and mask.

Her aunt had insisted on having one of her older gowns refitted for Elizabeth — a dazzling ivory silk, with a fine overlay of delicate lace.

Her mask was golden lace, with a moon and stars motif that completed the effect.

“Is that really me?” Elizabeth asked under her breath as she twirled in front of the full-length mirror.

Her aunt smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling with fond tears. “My dear, you look positively celestial. How beautiful you are,” she said. “Your mother would swoon if she could see you now.”

“She would try to marry me off to the first gentleman that showed any interest in me, you mean,” Elizabeth laughed.

She could not feel any regret for having refused Colonel Fitzwilliam, knowing her heart could not truly be his, and far less for the perfidious Mr Wickham.

Though, Elizabeth thought ruefully, her mother would have berated her for both refusals.

For her own part, she could regret only one: her harsh rejection of Mr Darcy.

She had grown to know her own heart too late, and in a manner she might suffer from all her life.

Mr Darcy had shown his nobility and the greatness of his spirit in his care for her welfare, even after her abrupt refusal. She could not expect still more.

Surely, no man could still love a woman after receiving such a rejection.

“We should head down, Lizzy, if we are not to be late. It would not do,” her aunt said. “Your uncle is already eager to be there, mingling with his business contacts.”

“A masquerade is not for conducting business, Aunt Gardiner. It is to enjoy oneself and the absence of work for a little while. He really should take more time for relaxation and reflection.”

“Well, it is his business pursuits that have made this evening available to us in the first place. The Soho Assembly Rooms are the finest in London, perhaps the world. It is because of his hard work and dedication to the wellbeing of his family that we are even admitted into this world of high society, Lizzy.”

“Of course. I meant no slight toward Uncle’s profession.

He has worked hard and made something of himself, and he should be proud.

” She looked again at her reflection, some of her excitement dwindling.

“What have I done? Nothing. The only reason I have any inheritance to speak of is because I crawled up a tree after a cat, and a distant uncle remembered it with fondness. Nothing I have is due to my own merit.” It certainly was not due to her own merit that she was being pursued by so many gentlemen. It was only a strange twist of fate.

“You have merits aplenty, my dear. You are beautiful and quick-witted. And you care deeply about the people around you. That is nothing to sniff at,” her aunt said encouragingly. She came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders. “Now, we really must be going!”

They hurried out of the room and down the staircase to the foyer, where Mr Gardiner waited. When he saw them, he beamed with pride. “I defy any man to have a wife or a niece as radiant as I do!”

“Oh, Mr Gardiner!” her aunt said as he reached for her hand and kissed it.

Elizabeth watched them from a small distance for a moment, remembering how her aunt had explained why she had married Mr Gardiner: she could not live without him.

Elizabeth half-wished that she was still in ignorance of the feeling, but it was not so.

She had come to understand all too well how two people might come to understand one another, might come to respect and admire each other more than anyone else in the world.

Only the understanding had come too late. Mr Darcy was surely as lost to her as though he were on the other side of the world. “Shall we depart?” she asked after a moment.

“Yes, of course, my dear. You will be eager to get there, I daresay. Come along, the carriage is waiting!” her uncle said jovially. Without further delay, they hurried outside and climbed into the carriage.

When they arrived, Elizabeth’s breath was nearly taken away. The Soho assembly rooms were in a large building, with candlelight and music streaming out from the many windows. It was grander than anything she could have imagined.

The rooms inside were more impressive still.

Like herself, the attendees had dressed to make the night magical.

Elizabeth saw lady’s masks of astonishing delicacy, and gentlemen wearing everything from small domino masks to impressive creations made to mimic satyrs and Roman gods.

The enchanting hum of conversation hung over the room, nearly as loud as the musicians.

“What do you think, Lizzy dear?” her aunt whispered as they came into the main ballroom.

“It is like a dream,” she breathed. She looked up at the ceiling, carved into intricate designs and covered in plated bronze. Even the rooms themselves seemed to enter into the grand spirit of the night.

When she looked back down at the crowd, she caught sight of someone coming toward them.

Elizabeth’s heart fluttered with nervousness and excitement.

Was that not Mr Darcy under the mask? Even from a distance, she thought she could distinguish his powerful stride and upright posture, and upon closer inspection, she caught a glimpse of his kind brown eyes.

“Miss Bennet, I presume?” he began when he drew near.

“You are very astute, Mr Darcy,” she replied.

He bowed at the waist, lower than was his wont. “As you are yourself.”

She returned his bow. “How do you do?”

“I am quite well,” he said and cleared his throat. “Miss Bennet, do I — do I ask too much, in hoping you might grant me the first dance?”

Elizabeth’s heart soared. “I would be delighted.”

His surprise and pleasure at her quick acceptance mirrored her own at the invitation. “I am glad indeed,” he said simply. “I shall return shortly to claim it. One moment, ladies.”

And with that, Mr Darcy walked away.

“Did you just agree to dance with Mr Darcy? I thought you could not stand the man,” her aunt said, lowering her voice.

“You were mistaken, aunt. I have the highest respect for Mr Darcy.” She watched him weave through the crowd, then stop when he came to a tall man. To judge by the military strictness of his posture and the familiarity of Mr Darcy’s address, Elizabeth rather suspected it was Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“He was very kind to come and ask you for the first dance. That is quite the honour,” her aunt went on.

Elizabeth could hardly breathe, still less contain her excitement.

“Yes, he is.” It was a wonder, and yet was it not still more evidence of Mr Darcy’s character and his understanding of her?

She would never have dared to ask him for another chance, but he seemed to be offering it to her without the asking.

Only now did Elizabeth admit to herself that she had always been strangely drawn to him, even when there had been a multitude of misunderstandings between them.

When he finished speaking to his cousin and wove his way back through the crowd toward her and her aunt, she marvelled again at his attentiveness. There was fully a quarter hour before the first dance was to begin, and yet he was returning to her with all alacrity.

“How are you, Mrs Gardiner? I hope Harriet is well?”

“My Harriet? Why, yes,” her aunt replied, shooting a questioning glance at Elizabeth.

“Miss Harriet was kind enough to come to my rescue when I last visited Miss Bennet. I am afraid I had come unprepared, and Miss Harriet gave me a charming daisy to give to Miss Bennet during my call. She is a sweet child, to be sure,” he said with a broad smile.

Warmth filled Elizabeth at the remembrance.

He had been so good with little Harriet, and it had touched her heart to stand at the end of the corridor and listen to their exchange.

She was unsure if any other man of her acquaintance would have treated her little cousin with such kindness and patience.

He had had such a care for her childish dignity.

“She is a sweet child. But a little naughty when it comes to her naps. She causes my nanny no end of trouble in getting her to sleep.” Mrs Gardiner rolled her eyes heavenward, but Elizabeth could tell she was flattered by Mr Darcy’s attentiveness.

He then turned to Elizabeth. “Are you well, Miss Bennet?” he asked.

“Yes, quite,” she replied breathlessly.

I am well now that you are here. But of course, such openness was impossible.

When it came time for the dancing to begin, Mr Darcy offered her his arm and they walked out onto the dance floor. As the music started and they went through the first few movements, she felt hope stirring in her chest.

Yet he was very silent. Elizabeth hardly knew how to interpret it. He might have simply asked her to dance as a gesture of friendship, or to illustrate that he bore no grudge. He might very well have meant nothing more by it.

Yet his gaze never left hers, and she thought she saw admiration in his eyes.

“I hear that you and Colonel Fitzwilliam went for a walk in Hyde Park. Are you very fond of the walks there?”

“No, I had not been there before the Colonel took me. It was good of him to remember how fond I am of walking.” There, perhaps, was another explanation for Mr Darcy’s behaviour — if his own regard for her was all done away, might he even intend to promote his cousin’s suit?

“I must confess, I miss my country walks.”

“Indeed,” was his only reply.