Chapter 1

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The grand estate of Pemberley was buzzing with activity.  There was a grand masquerade that was happening at the moment. Every single Lord and Lady across England was there, dressed in their finest.

Standing at the corner of the room, wearing a dashing black uniform, complete with a mask of dark gold and black, 23-year-old Fitzwilliam Darcy couldn't believe his luck. He was the only gentleman in the room without a partner. He was not proud or arrogant as everyone suspected him to be, although he was a little reserved and not very social. He was rather a little shy. He had a very kind demeanor and temper, I did not get into quarrels with anyone. Unless, of course, they agitated him.

Charles Bingley, Darcy's best friend, tapped him gently on the shoulder. Oh come now, Darcy, be of good cheer. You are at a masquerade, Houston one, to be precise. Don't you want to find a young lady to dance with? I believe most of these young women here are very agreeable.

Darcy. My dear Bingley, if there was a woman in this room who was available at the moment, I would gladly stand up with her and dance. However, as you can clearly notice, not a single young lady is available.

Bingley. I suppose you are right on that point.  But don't you worry over it, I am sure someone is going to come and dance with you.

Darcy didn't reply. He merely shrugged his shoulders, crossed his arms, crossed his long legs over one another, and stared at the many couples dancing about him on the dance floor.

Sensing the displeasure from his friend, Bingley took his leave.

A few minutes past before Darcys attention soon turned to the large ornate doors that lead into the ballroom. They opened, and his eyes became wide with surprise as he watched the figure of a beautiful woman entering the room.

She was absolutely an angel. Chestnut brown hair, dazzling blue eyes, and pale complexion with a touch of pink, will be red lips, and a smashing figure. She was wearing a beautiful gown of ivory silk, complete with white opera gloves. Her mask was gold with pearl accents.

Darcy ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, trying to keep some of the strands out of his blue eyes. He could not stop staring at the lovely young woman before him.

Inglee, noticing his friends newfound interest, immediately strolled up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. Do you see Darcy? I told you. All you had to do was be a little patient. She's quite handsome, I must admit.

Darcy. She is. Do you know who she is?

Bingley. I do not, sadly. However, she is not alone. He pointed to another young woman beside the first, also having chestnut brown hair, but this one had brown eyes and more of a peach complexion than pale cream. Her gown consisted of pale pink silk.  She also had white opera gloves, and a similar mask to her companions, except hers was pink.

Darcy. She is handsome, I agree. However, she is not as handsome as her companion.

Bingley. I do believe they are sisters. They have similar features, except for their eyes.

Darcy. You would be correct.

The gentleman continued to stare, mesmerized, as the beautiful pair of ladies made their way directly towards them.

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