Prologue – Masquerade

London, 1984

The combination of loud music and several glasses of champagne were beginning to take effect upon his head, and he felt the first twinges of a headache that would be formed soon. Maybe that was the definitive sign that he should go home. Furthermore, he was starting to feel uncomfortable walking around in a tuxedo and mask all by himself, in a party full of beautiful women and couples in love. It was becoming a torture, especially for someone who had recently engaged.

In fact, he wasn't completely alone. Somewhere, in the middle of the crowd who packed the place, were his parents, his sister and her boyfriend. And of course, his inseparable friend, John Bates, who had chosen today, of all days, to disappear charmed by a beautiful young woman he had seen in the beginning of the party.

And he once more thought about what he was doing there. When Laura had called him earlier to tell him that she couldn't go because her mother was sick, he should have stayed with her. But his fiancee had convinced him to go without her, assuring him that everything would be fine, and that he should have fun for both of them. Moreover, he couldn't fail to attend that masquerade ball, a charity ball promoted annually, of which his mother was one of the proud organizers.

So, there he was, crossing a ballroom filled with masked and slightly drunk people, some of them wearing the most bizarre costumes, trying to get into the gardens in hope that a breath of fresh air could make him feel better.

The night was cool and he could see, through the clouds, the soft glow of a few stars. He closed his eyes for one moment, breathing deeply and letting the cool night air fill his lungs. There were few people in the garden and he walked slowly approaching the beautiful fountain that stood in its center. It was a beautiful place and certainly a perfect one for a masquerade ball, a medieval castle maintained by a noble family, who used to rent the place for parties and large events.

Certainly there were a lot of history behind of those walls and through those immense gardens, he thought as he walked, the gravel path cracking under his shoes. He exchanged a greeting with one of the security guards dressed in black. There was a legion of security guards on that evening, to guarantee that no guests would exceed the limits and would invade parts of the castle that weren't released to the party. They were everywhere and seemed to keep an eye on everyone like secret service agents.

He finally spotted an empty bench and walked toward it, but before he could sit, a young woman, dressed in a beautiful dark green frock, came out of nowhere and sat in his bench. Without even looking at him, she unceremoniously removed her shoes, resting her delicate and now bare feet in the grass.

"So much better...", she sighed closing her eyes and tilting her head back, a small smile curling her lips. He smiled involuntarily, the beautiful image before his eyes overwhelming his senses. He couldn't see her face, partially covered by her mask, but his eyes were fascinated by the delicate curve of her lips and the way a lock of black hair gently rested on her face.

She opened her eyes to look at him, suddenly aware of his presence when he accidentally moved his foot noisily on the gravel ground, breaking the magic of that moment. Blushing slightly, she gave him a coy smile as she tried to hide her feet under the bench. "Excuse me… I… didn't see you."

"Please, don't worry about me," he rewarded her with a smile of his own, "I would do the same if I could."

"And why don't you do?" She asked him, tilting her head with a look of legitimate curiosity in her astonishing eyes. Eyes that were of the most beautiful shade of blue he'd ever seen. Now it was his turn to blush on the intensity of her gaze.

"Well... Really?" He he put his hands in his trouser pockets looking down sheepishly, a gentle smile curling the corners of his lips. "The truth is... For more embarrassing it may seem... I can't remember the state of my socks..."

He raised his eyes to look at her again and she held his gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she was analyzing him, trying to realize if there was any truth in what he had just said. And then she started to giggle. The pure and clear sound of her laughter spreading through the air, so infectious that he couldn't help, but join her.

"That's something I really doubt it!" She finally said, a broad smile lighting up her face. "You don't seem to be the type who forgets details."

He raised his eyebrows with an amused expression on his face, his eyes irremediably fixed on hers. "And how can you be so sure? You first saw me only one minute ago."

"Well," she shrugged a mischievous glint in her eyes, "I just… saw the signs."

"Signs?" He frowned and she giggled once more.

"Your hair is tidy, your shoes are expensive and of good taste and your bow tie's knot is just perfect," her eyes seemed to glow with satisfaction in the torch lights. "Moreover, there is not even a single crease in your suit jacket. Hardly looks like someone who would wear old socks."

"Who are you? A detective?" She noticed a humorous glint in his eyes, even under his black mask, feeling something different inside her chest when he grinned, opening his arms in defeat. "You've got me. I'm guilty," he said, causing her to giggle once more.

"Do you mind if I sit?" He asked her.

"Of course not," she slid on the bench to give him more space and he sat next to her. She then lowered her eyes for a moment, and it was with a look of astonishment that she saw his hand moving to remove his mask.

"What are you doing?" She held his hand, preventing him. His mask didn't hide his surprise, clear in his blue eyes, but there was a smile in his lips.

"I'm trying to get rid of my mask," he said slowly, looking at her, suddenly aware of the touch of her fingers on his hand. "If you allow me..." She suppressed a smile, and there was a mischievous glint in her eyes when she talked again.

"Don't you know the masquerade ball rules? No one can remove the mask before midnight."

"Come on, this is a silly rule!" He looked at her wondering what she was hiding behind that tempting smile. "And you don't seem the type who respects silly rules."

"Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way," she said, lifting her chin in a such adorable way, her blue eyes teasing him.

"And this is…?"

"Austen, of course," she grinned.

"Of course." He smiled back, still feeling the warmth of her touch on his skin where her fingers had been until seconds before.

"And thinking about it, this is a very charming rule! I like the idea to remain faceless," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement, making him chuckle.

"Right. So, what brought you to England?" He asked her after a short silence. As she seemed surprised, he continued. "You're American, aren't you?"

She nodded with a grin. "I moved to London just six months ago."

Noticing the engagement ring on her hand as she straightened a lock of hair that stubbornly insisted to fall on her face, he couldn't help but feel strangely disappointed. "To get married?" He ventured, his eyes fixed on hers. His lips curled in a wicked smile when she nodded in agreement. "So do you came in search for a single man in possession of a good fortune?"

She got serious for a second, studying the expression in his eyes, regretting to have prevented him to take off his mask. He seemed to openly tease her, in a bold way, but not offensive nor cocky. There was something in his eyes that made her believe that there was no malice in him, only a seductive boyish boldness. "Well, not exactly," she replied softly.

"And did you find him? Your Mr. Darcy?"

"I like to think so," she said with a coy smile, and he followed her gaze lowering his eyes to watch the tips of her toes playing on the grass. He pondered for a few minutes what she had just said, and looking around, seeing that she was still alone, asked her. "And where is he?"

She suppressed a sigh. "Hopelessly late."

"Too bad, Mr. Darcy", he thought. "And are you here alone?"

"No... You are here."

He chuckled, blushing slightly but inwardly pleased that she was teasing him too. She then added, with a grin, "I came with my future sister in law and her boyfriend. They are somewhere in there."

They were silent when their eyes met once more. For a moment he succumbed to the spell of that smile and those shining blue eyes, instinctively holding out his hand to straighten that stubborn strand of her dark hair, his fingers lightly brushing against her face, his eyes locked on hers. She gave him a shy smile, his touch, even for a few seconds, making her skin tingle. Letting herself get lost in the intensity of his warm blue eyes, she felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

Then the first strains of a waltz filled the air, and standing up, he adjusted his suit jacket's sleeves before making a little bow to offer her his hand. "Would you give me the pleasure of this dance, m'lady?"

She took a few seconds longer than usual to react and stand up. After a slight bow, she then took the hand he had offered her. Then he looked down and said, with a mischievous smile, "I think you better put your shoes on, Cinderella." She giggled, trying to hide her nervousness, but suddenly she apologized, causing him to frown, without understanding the reason for that abrupt change of attitude.

"Is anything wrong?"

"Nothing. Sorry, I usually laugh too much. My fiance keeps telling me that." The last words practically slipped from her lips, and she saw the serious expression forming on his face. Then, his eyes softened and he took a step toward her, his voice gentle when he spoke.

"I'm perfectly pleased with the beauty of your smile and the sweet sound of your laughter." Again his unsettling gaze was upon her, his eyes staring at her in a way that made her feel butterflies in her stomach. She lowered her eyes, unable to hold his gaze any longer. And then, with a coy smile, she sat on the bench to put her shoes on. He gently held her by the hand to her to stand up, and then led her elegantly to the sound of a beautiful waltz. She struggled not to look straight into his eyes, but could not help smiling as they danced.

"I never thought I'd meet someone my age who really knows how to dance a waltz."

His eyes looked for hers and he chuckled. "I think I'm capable of a few surprises," he whispered, shortening the distance between them and making hard for her to breathe. He could smell her soft scent, feel the warmth of her hand in his, her breath brushing his cheek when she whispered, "Indeed, Mister…"

"Rob…"

Then she pulled back a little, quickly placing her delicate fingers on his lips to prevent him to speak. "Please, don't." She said in a low voice, her eyes now fixed on his, making him feel his heart racing in his chest, the touch of her fingers burning his lips. "No names, please."

He then grabbed her hand and gently placed a warm kiss on its back, his eyes never leaving hers, making her shiver slightly as he whispered. "No faces... No names... Maybe a kiss, then?" He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wanted it as much as he, and then, approaching her, he brushed his lips against hers softly. Sensing her response, he wrapped her by her waist, pulling her slowly to him, intensifying the kiss. He allowed himself to get lost in the sweetness of her lips, tasting them, savoring them in a passionate kiss. The warmth of her body against his made his heart beat fast inside his chest, arousing sensations and feelings he didn't know so far.

When their lips finally parted they were both breathless. So, they stood in silence for a long time, in each other's arms. She rested her head on his chest, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace, trying to organize her confused feelings. She had never felt like this in someone's arms before and that thought startled her.

"Who are you?", he whispered in her ear, his soft voice causing her to feel a shiver go down her spine. She didn't dare to look in his eyes when she replied, also in a whisper.

"Cinderella?"

His lips curled in a soft smile, one hand sliding down her back gently. "And that makes me what? Prince Charming?" Hearing the sweet murmur of her laughter, he pulled away from her just enough to allow him to lift her face placing his forefinger at her chin. There was a tender smile on her lips when their eyes met. "Perhaps," she replied, her eyes locked on his as he leaned over to kiss her once more. Until she moved away from him slowly, as if it were difficult for her.

"I have to go..." she said quietly , unable to avert his eyes that now seemed disappointed. Holding her hand, he opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him with a nod. "I was dreaming. I still am," she muttered, moving away from him one more step, but still holding his hand. "A sweet and beautiful dream. But I must go now…" she then turned her back, her fingers sliding away from his hand as she walked away.

He stood there, silently watching her disappear into the crowded ballroom, not knowing what to say or what to do. After a moment, he seemed to wake and went after her. He needed to know who she was, he needed to see her face.

Then, after a while, he finally spotted her. She was accompanied by another man, that stood next to her with one arm possessively over her shoulders, while talking to someone. He felt a twinge of pain in his chest when saw him lean over to place a tender kiss on her lips.

"Damn you Mr. Darcy," he thought. Her Mr. Darcy, the foolish man who seemed not know how precious her laugh was. Feeling a mixture of jealousy and resentment, he then turned on his heels and walked to the parking lot. It was time to go home. There was nothing there for him anymore.