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I t was in the small hours of the morning, when the guests had departed to their beds for their final slumber before getting into their carriages and rumbling home in the last promised good weather before a spate of rain was predicted.

The library held that peculiar hush that comes in the deepest part of the night, when even the ancient house’s settling creaks had stilled.

Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, catching the gilt lettering on countless spines, making them gleam like stars brought down to earth.

Two of the guests had already departed.

Prematurely and in disgrace, Amelia reflected, still smiling as she turned to Sir Frederick, her hand upon a book on the bookshelf.

The events of the evening seemed almost dreamlike now—Mrs. Perry and Mr. Greene’s hasty departure in the same post-chaise he’d intended for Caroline, their mortification complete when Lord Thornton had produced Pernilla’s true diary.

How fitting that the library itself had yielded up the final truth, proving both Greene’s claims false and vindicating Pernilla’s romance, even if it had ended in tragedy.

“What is there to smile about, my love?” Sir Frederick asked, and the endearment was so unexpected that Amelia’s hand dislodged the book at hand, which went crashing to the floor. The sound echoed in the quiet room like a gunshot.

Instantly, Sir Frederick was at her side, raising the volume to read the title, his eyes widening for a moment before he replaced it and snatched another, which he presented to her with a flourish.

Amelia’s heart squeezed at the tenderness in his expression.

“ Pride and Prejudice has a lot more to tell us about love and happiness than the Marquis de Sade,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“And that is what I would gift to you had I the command of this library.” He hesitated, took a step closer, and put his hands on her shoulders.

Through the fine silk of her gown, his touch felt tender and precious.

“And if we had our own library, we could fill it with all the wonderful books we chose. I’d consider that a worthy goal, would you not, Amelia, dearest? ”

Amelia felt her heart swell and the breath catch in her throat as she waited for what was to come.

All thoughts of retiring alone to the country seemed impossibly distant now, like a story she’d once read but no longer quite believed.

Pliantly, and so full of love, she inched closer, her look inquiring.

“A library?” she murmured. “I could think of nothing more I would like than a library.”

She nearly repeated that it would be one they could fill with books together, but he had not yet said the magical words. The air between them felt charged with possibility, like the moment before lightning strikes.

“Now that Mrs. Perry and Mr. Greene have been equally condemned and have departed in their postchaise, and Lord Thornton has produced the Bible that records the birth and death of Pernilla’s only child, thus disproving Greene’s claims to the estate, I think it’s now time for us to concentrate on all that is left to make our futures the happiest we can.

” His voice grew husky. “Henry and Caroline have shown they are so much more than the children I thought them. And your brother’s wager…

” He smiled. “Miss Playford’s clever solution of walking down the church aisle with me on Sunday will satisfy the exact wording while preserving your independence. ”

Suddenly he was on bended knee, Pride and Prejudice clasped to his breast. The moonlight caught his face, showing a vulnerability she’d never seen before.

“I’ve made so many mistakes, my darling, despite having the benefit of Miss Austen’s good advice.

But one learns from one’s mistakes and I would hope that is only to the betterment of one’s hopes and dreams and of achieving the greatest fulfillment.

Amelia, my darling, clever one. I would be so deeply honored if you would be my wife. ”

Gently taking Pride and Prejudice from his hands and replacing it carefully on the bookshelf, Amelia dipped her face, so that she was but an inch from his. Her heart felt full enough to burst, yet somehow lighter than air.

“I will,” she said, kissing him gently on the lips.

And as she registered his gentle sigh of relief, she felt that suddenly the world that had to date only opened up to her through books was about to take on an entirely wonderful new dimension.

His arms came around her, drawing her closer as the kiss deepened.

When they finally parted, his eyes held both tenderness and passion.

“My bluestocking bride,” he murmured against her hair. “How fortunate that I learned to value substance over show, and real passion over mere pleasure.”

“And I learned that not all charm masks insincerity,” she replied softly.

From somewhere in the house, a clock chimed four.

Morning would come soon enough, bringing with it the bustle of departures, the exchange of directions for correspondence, and all the delightful chaos of new beginnings.

But for now, in the library’s moonlit quiet, two people who had found their way to each other through misconceptions and mysteries, through pride and prejudice of their own, simply held each other close among the books that had helped bring them together.

THE END