Page 12 of Pride, Prejudice, & Pretense

"And you'll take my word for that?" She knew her tone was doubtful.

Darcy did not react to her tone. "Kellynch said you were the one for the job. And here you are." He paused, meeting her eyes. "One word from you will decide it."

Lizzy accepted that, although she wondered if it would be true when the time came. "So, let's talk more about how we met. We need a meet-cute story. Almost all couples have one."

"I suppose it makes the most sense for it to involve books. Why don't we claim we met at a used bookstore in the city, both of us searching for a copy of the same book?"

"That sounds good. Very rom-com. But what's the book? Is there any book that Wickham likes?"

"Marquis de Sade," Darcy whispered grimly, his mood darkening again. He exerted himself and shook his head, managing a wavering smile. "Sorry, that's not productive. Not even a little."

"Okay, so what book would bring Fanny and Ned together in New York City?"

He sat back down, his eyes focused in the distance, thinking. "Nothing too rare or too expensive?we'd have to explain that."

Lizzy leaned forward. "Speaking of expensive, what about these clothes?especially that black Versace mini? That costs more thanIcan afford, and I'm no librarian."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot." He shuffled the files again and handed one to her, embarrassed. "More backstory. Fanny is from a wealthy family, although she's determined to make it on her own. Her family's not crazy rich…wasn't that your term? But she has a trust fund, money, quite a lot more that will be hers when she marries. Until that happens, her parents are paying for her apartment to make sure she lives in a safe neighborhood."

"That's sounds a little Regency England," she said, taking the file.

Darcy smirked. "Yes, but it's another way of interesting Wickham. Just in case your…charms don’t reel him in fast enough. There's information in the file about fake bank accounts the CIA have created for Fanny Prince. And Kellynch has provided us a generous bankroll of real cash, should we need it. There’s more backstory on Fanny in the file along with the financials. College, high school, hometown. The standard litany."

She put that file down on the bed, too. "Okay, so Fanny is a librarian who's a covert and reluctant heiress and, despite being in a serious relationship, is unknowingly ripe for temptation by the wrong sort of handsome devil?"

Darcy's eyes flashed and his lips compressed. "Yes, that's the one-line synopsis," he said tightly, with a certain finality.

They sat for a brief time in silence.

"So, what's the book? Fanny and Ned's shared lodestone?" Lizzy asked.

Darcy, who had dropped his head, lifted it with a quick grin, an idea. "An old edition of Elizabeth Gaskell'sWives and Daughters."

She knew the book, having read it in a class at Haverford and liking it. She hadn't thought about it in years. She hadn't thought about any book in years. Not really. "Gaskell? MaybeFanny'shunting for that, butNed? Won't it make him seem, I don't know, a little…soft?"

He smiled with some humor this time, though the smile remained grim on its outer edges. "All the better—especially if Wickham believes that or picks up on it. It will make him more sure of himself. More sure that Fanny's ready for arealman."

They talked for a while longer, going over many more details, their talk not moving in a straight line but zigzagging over various relevant topics in the backstories. They spent some time imagining the whirlwind romance of Fanny and Ned in the city, deciding the general contours of their relationship, its typical dynamic. The details of the dynamic they decided to play by ear. They were both experienced agents, and it would be best if their interactions were guided in part by Wickham's real-time reactions. Over-prepping for the moment often resulted in missing the moment when it came.

They had ordered in pizza and ate it as they talked. Darcy ferried three slices to Charlie’s room before he and Lizzy ate theirs. Charlie had just returned from overseeing that the set-up of Lizzy's apartment was right?that the bugs, audio and visual, were planted in the appropriate spots and the signals were working, that everything could be heard and seen in the apartment across the street.

When Darcy finally left, Lizzy closed the door and sighed. She still wasn't sure what to make of the man. He was hard to read, at times inscrutable, even for her with her long-practiced skills of observation. At least he now seemed to believe she could do the job?if notquitethat, he was at least willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. For now, that was enough.

What troubled Lizzy the most was Darcy in relation to Wickham. His dislike of Wickham felt personal. Perhaps she was wrong. She knew how it could go: trail and surveil a mark for long enough, witness enough of what they are willing to do, and it's possible to come to hate the mark with a real hatred, motivating and strong.

Darcy's hatred of Wickham, however, had some element in it that disturbed her.

In the bathroom, she drank some water and smirked at her blonde hair, then took the black dress off the hook and replaced it in the garment bag. Walking back to the bed, she picked up the files he had left with her, deciding to study them for a few more minutes before she prepared for bed.

***

Friday, October 16

The next morning, they took separate taxis to the apartments. Lizzy and Darcy took one?all her packages with them?and Charlie went in the other. Although Darcy seemed less grim, he had shaved, which might account for the change. He was pleasant company on the ride, chatty. When they reached her apartment building, he toted most of the packages while Lizzy only carried the two garment bags. They went inside, past the CIA-supplied security guard at a small desk who spoke to her as if he knew her, calling her Miss Prince, and they boarded the elevator. Her apartment was on the tenth floor: 1019.

Charlie had given her the keys, so Lizzy unlocked the door and held it for the encumbered Darcy. The apartment was nice—not grand, but certainly beyond what any librarian could afford. She followed him through the foyer into the living room. It was large, the furniture comfortable-looking and colorful. To one side of the living room, divided from it by a long marble counter with stools on the side closest to them, was a kitchen filled withgleaming stainless steel. To the other side was one door, open, to the bedroom, and another, closed, which Darcy said was the bathroom.

The view from the large living room window was impressive. Lizzy walked to it and stood looking out while Darcy put the packages on the bed before joining her. "What do you think?"

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