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    Pemberley House, Derbyshire, Estate Accounts, 1811 . The words shouted out at her from the page, crashing violently through her mind. No, no, no! Slowly, her eyes stirred from the shouting page to discover a miniature of Georgiana on the desk, next to an ink and pen stand. Her head shook in disbelief as she came to terms with where she was. Not his library — his study! She snatched her hand back from the book as if it were on fire. She looked at Mr. Darcy, who was sitting expressionless across from her. At his desk , she thought, his chair! She flung herself out of the chair and backed away. Her mouth opened, and her hand moved numbly to cover it.
    Mr. Darcy sensed the time for him to take action was upon him; he could see her face contort in mortification. He moved cautiously to her.
    “Do not be alarmed, Miss Bennet. You could not have known. For myself, it was a delightful misdirection on your part, one in which I was the benefactor.”
    Elizabeth finally found her voice. “Mr. Darcy, believe me, I would not have ventured into your private study had I known . . . I thought it was the library!”
    He reached for her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm as he led her across the room. “Shhh. I know you would not have, Miss Bennet, but I cannot find it in me to wish it otherwise.”
    “Thank you, sir,” she murmured, still red with embarrassment and grateful he was not upset with her breach of his privacy.
    “Shall I repay you for this pleasing interlude that you have bestowed upon me and guide you to the real library, Miss Bennet? I assure you, with my navigation you shall not get lost again.”
    She laughed with little humor but determined to redeem the remnants of her dignity. She needed her wit to dispel the thickness of the moment and distract her from the thinness of his shirtsleeve beneath her fingers. She did so by saying archly, “I should certainly hope so Mr. Darcy, or else we would be a sorry pair, indeed, to get lost in your house.”
    His eyes darkened, and she had to look away. I should like to get lost with you in this house, Elizabeth. “Sorry, indeed. Right this way, madam.”
    He walked her to a door at the opposite end of his study that opened directly to the library and ushered her in. He watched delightedly as her eyes grew big with childlike wonder as she scanned the cavernous space of his library. The room was easily three times the size of his study and filled with books on all four walls.
    He leaned against the door frame, appreciating the sparkle in her eyes, a light he had not seen in several days, as she slowly turned in a circle taking in the scene. He looked at the walls around them, humbled that she should take such joy in something so commonplace to him. Wait until I take you to Pemberley, Elizabeth. He smiled at the scene she made and likened the silence of the moment to music when added to the enchanting smile spreading across her features.
    He stepped forward when she stopped turning and walked further into the room. He watched as she neared a rug on the floor; its raised edge always caught people unawares. I really should replace it , he thought absently as he prepared to warn her. Before he uttered a word, she turned and walked the perimeter of the room, grazing the books with her fingers as she went.
    Her voice wafted back to him, breaking the spell. “Mr. Darcy, this is the most beautiful room I have ever seen!” she said, laughing. Transfixed, his smile grew wider as she almost skipped down the remainder of the room, her hands still on the books beside her. When she got to the end of the room, she spun in a circle and laughed quietly.
    Too beautiful. It pained him that the moment could not last forever. “Thank you, Miss Bennet, though I admit I almost wish you remained under the assumption that my study was the library.”
    Elizabeth stopped and looked at him quizzically. “Why ever for, sir — to keep such a secret as this?” She motioned to the walls