Page 22 of Pride, Prejudice, & Pretense

"Okay, but that doesn't mean there's not a story about how he came to be that way. Unless you think he was, I don't know…hatched as a demon."

He glared at her. "No, he is a demon born of a woman?a human demon. Perhaps he has his story. Whatever it is, that story does not excuse him for what he's done, not for one measure of the pain he's caused." Darcy's face had closed by the time he finished.

"Can you get me the other information? Maybe it won't help me understand him from the inside, his backstory, so to speak, but at least it will give me his basic biography."

Darcy's nod was reluctant. "I can get it. It may take a day or so to get MI-6 to send it. The bureaucracy there moves like Dickens's Circumlocution Office."

Lizzy chuckled. "Little Dorrit.That's my favorite of his novels."

"Mine, too," Darcy said, smiling, his anger cooling, his face opening. He turned on his stool and pointed to the bags. "Speaking of…I went for a walk this morning, as I said, and I found a tiny newspaper and magazine shop.Covers?that was the name!Really! They sold coffee, so I went inside to buy a cup. As I stood waiting in line, I noticed the back wall was covered with tall bookcases stuffed with old hardbacks. So I bought you some. No self-respecting librarian should live in an apartment without its proper share of moldering classics."

He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a few used books.Wordsworth's Poetical Works,A Tale of Two Cities, Moby Dick.She took them, looked at them, and placed them on the counter. His smile had grown. He reached into the bag again and held up a thick blue-bound book, waving it proudly like atrophy. "Wives and Daughters.Gaskell. It was on the shelf. We didn't need to mention it at the party, but I thought finding it this morning was a good sign. And it's in very good condition." He handed it to her along with his excitement at finding it.

She smiled at him. "That's funny, finding a copy of that. Did it cost much?"

"Not much more than the others. There are more in the bag, but I'll let you discover them later. Oh, and I bought some other things. That place was like a shop in a Dickens novel, crammed with curious things." He reached into the other bag and lifted out a small cactus in a tiny terra cotta pot. "A succulent friend to keep you company, although he's slightly prickly. And"?he reached in again, producing a long, thin box?"something to pass the time: Checkers!"

It was indeed a box of checkers, a cheap set. "Checkers?Youplay checkers?"

Darcy laughed out loud, maybe the first time she had heard it, a deep chuckle that reverberated through her whole body. "Yes, Bingley taught me when we were boys, and I've loved the American version of the game since. It's deeply instructive, I think. Do you play?"

"Yes, I suppose. I learned it as a child. My dad taught me, and we used to play. But I haven't played in years and years."

His smile was boyish. "What do you say to a post-breakfast game as a way to pass some time? All we can do now is wait for Wickham to make some move. I can refresh your memory of the rules, strategy."

Lizzy laughed. This was an unexpected turn to the morning. "Okay. Open the box and set up the pieces. I'll go and get dressed."

After changing, she emerged from the bedroom to find Darcy had set up the game on the coffee table between the sofa and the armchair. The checkers, red and black, sat on thecheckerboard, also red and black. He turned the board so that he was black and she was red. He stared at her as if suggesting the orientation of the board had another meaning, but he said nothing for a few moments.

"Since you're out of practice, I'll move first," he finally said. "Black, or the darker side, moves first." She nodded, and he slid a piece forward.

She examined the move and then looked at him. "Forced jumps, captures, right? If I have one, I have to take it?"

"Yes, that's right. That's one of the fundamental, somewhat counter-intuitive aspects of the game, especially if you've played chess."

He looked at her questioningly, and she shrugged. "A few times, also with my dad."

"In chess, people often become too consumed by defensive strategies, including but not limited to castling. Checkers is different?it's an offensive game. You can defend here and there, in particular situations, but there's no generally defensive way to win. No defense you build can stand up over time." He gestured for her to move. She did, more or less mirroring his move.

"Okay, good." Sitting back, he looked at her, his gaze warm and amused. He was enjoying himself. She began to relax and enjoy the activity, the spectacle of MI-6's best agent enjoying checkers. And of course, he was playing CIA's best.

"Now remember, the gameislike chess in one important respect: control of the center of the board is crucial. It can seem like you ought to position your pieces at the edges of the board, but that's a mistake. Yes, they're protected from being jumped, but you limit their power." He made another move.

She studied it for a minute. She moved again. So far, there had been no forced captures. Lizzy studied his face as he leaned down, pondering, his brow furrowed. His stubble was blue-back, heavier, darkening his jaw. Looking at it, she could feel it againas she had felt it last night. She liked how he looked when he thought.

Without making his move, he lifted his head. "It's important to remember that advanceen masseis best, allowing some of your pieces to protect others. But you have to advance. And that brings us to the most fascinating aspect of the game"?his tone grew more serious?"the one that keeps me playing. To win, you have to sacrifice pieces. Winning the war requires losing battles. You have to pick the battles, of course, and you can't lose too many and still win the war, but I find that feature of the game deep, vexing. I want to win without sacrifice. I believe that should be possible, but it isn't, not really, not against any competent player."

She considered his point. It was true. She could remember that feature of the game bothering her as a girl, playing with her father, especially the way the mandatory capture rule forced you into using a piece to make a capture that then required that piece's capture by your opponent. She had never really reflected on it as Darcy just had, thinking about it in terms of sacrifice, of lost battles and won wars. "That's interesting. It is perplexing, especially in those terms."

Darcy nodded, still lost in his thoughts. "I hate the principle thatthe end justifies the means. I always have; I don't believe it. The way I was brought up, my father… Anyway, I later came to realize that I've always believed in another principle, one that I was taught at Cambridge to call the Pauline Principle since it was St. Paul who formulated it. It’s inRomans,if I recall correctly.Do not do evil so that good may come."

He sighed. "But I've ended up a spy, living my life in a shadow world where evil is routinely done so that good may come, or so it is claimed. Even worse, if good does come, then the Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service, my boss, or the director of the CIA, yours, Kellynch, will tell you that the evil youdid was not, after all, really anevilsince good came from it." He shook his head and stopped talking.

As he paused, Lizzy recalled her past honeypot missions.The Pauline Principle.

He glanced at her, looking as if he had just realized how much he had said and how long he had gone on. "Sorry. I guess checkers provides me an opportunity for musing about all that, trying to understand it. Maybe to reconcile myself to the decisions my profession requires of me."

Lizzy did not respond. They sat in heavy silence for a long moment.

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