Elizabeth Bennet has always understood her place in the world: modest, borrowed, and entirely her own. Orphaned as a small child and raised with love at Longbourn, she has never questioned the life she was given. That is, until Mr Bennet finds a letter he had forgotten he kept, and the name Sterling changes everything. Her father is the younger brother of an earl. And his family, the warm, exuberant, altogether overwhelming Romsleys, have spent years grieving a man they loved, never knowing he had a daughter. Now they want to know her.

Swept into a glittering world of London drawing rooms and Twelfth Night balls, Elizabeth discovers that belonging to the Romsleys means something she had not dared to hope for: a family who claims her without reservation. What it also means unfortunately is that Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy is brought back into her circle, appearing at every dinner table, watching her with unreadable eyes, and seeming determined to be nothing like the man she decided he was in Hertfordshire.

Fitzwilliam Darcy had dismissed Elizabeth Bennet as wholly unsuitable due to her irregular birth, her connexions, her impossible effect on his composure all made her someone he was determined to forget. But Elizabeth Sterling is another matter entirely. And the woman herself, magnificent and sharp-eyed and resolutely unimpressed with him, is exactly the same.

What does a man do when the woman he dismissed as beneath him turns out to be exactly where he belongs?