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“As to the soldier manning the pickets, I’m afraid I don’t know his name. Miss Bennet was in quite a rush, you understand, and I was under the impression that Colonel Forster wished us to do everything possible to aid the local populace.”

He smiled innocently at the man whom he been cuckolding for months.

“I fear that Lieutenant Sanderson’s words should be taken with a grain of salt; I’m afraid that the young man harbors unrequited affections for Miss Bennet, but as the young lady has something of a crush on me, his jealousy drives him to…

well, I would prefer not to speak ill of a fellow officer but I’m sure you understand. ”

If Wickham had hoped that his words would prompt feelings of compassion from his commanding officers, he was to be disappointed. He glanced at Darcy and was further disconcerted at how calm that gentleman appeared.

Colonel Forster spoke up. “Sir, there are several points in the Lieutenant’s story that are inconsistent with facts I’ve collected.”

The general raised a finger. “Lieutenant Wickham will finish his statement, and then you may respond.”

By now, Wickham was feeling decidedly unsettled.

Darcy was not acting as expected. Even Richard Fitzwilliam had contributed nothing.

George deemed Forster to be a friendly, even jovial man of middling intelligence who tended toward mediation and compromise, not suspicion and accusations.

For an instant, Wickham considered the unpleasant prospect that Forster might suspect something of his wife’s affair, but brushed it aside.

Surely the man would not embarrass himself by airing such an accusation?

In truth, Richard Fitzwilliam was working very hard not to laugh out loud with glee at Wickham’s verbal wriggling.

For years he had watched the boy and then the man gull his Uncle Darcy and then blacken the Darcy name, crowning his miserable life with the attempted seduction of little Georgiana.

Her brother had never been able to get his revenge without endangering her reputation, but Wickham had finally made a major miscalculation.

By signing on to the militia, he had made himself subject to the rules and regulations of a world with which Richard was intimately familiar.

Wickham cleared his throat and attempted to regroup.

“Sir, you should know that Mr. Darcy and I have a long history—his father showed me great favor as his godson and I fear that the son’s jealousy has prejudiced him against me, even as an adult.

When he saw me at Buxton, he threatened me and I feared for my life. ”

Darcy’s lips tightened, but just as he was about to protest, the General’s adjutant spoke.

“You made this accusation when I interviewed you yesterday, Lieutenant. However, you have not yet provided any witnesses to confirm this abuse. Colonel Forster’s man has brought statements from the innkeeper and his stableman, the latter confirming that you tried to steal another man’s horse in your attempt to flee. ”

“Mr. Darcy is rich and powerful—he probably paid them off!”

Pickering had a very small smile on his face. “Sergeant Dunn interviewed them himself, and I assure you, he caught no hint that any payment had been offered other than that which was due for the lodging. ”

The General nodded, trusting his aid’s thoroughness.

“Lieutenant Wickham, you have been given the chance to name witnesses who will support your version of the story, yet you have declined to do so. I will ask you again: if we delay this trial by a day, can you give my aid specific names or descriptions of people who were present at Meryton or Buxton and could be brought to testify in your favor?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam had to look down at the table to hide his amusement. Wickham was clearly astonished by the concept that his story would not be taken for granted.

After the defendant hemmed and hawed for some minutes, the General finally waved him to silence. “I shall take that as a no. Very well… we shall leave disciplinary offenses for now and move on to the charges of criminal misconduct. Pickering?”

Arlington’s adjutant obediently brought out a thick file, topped by a familiar ledger that prompted Wickham to lunge forward, crying, “That’s mine! My private property—you can’t go through that!”

Colonel Forster could not help himself. “Stand at attention, Lieutenant! You are an officer in His Majesty’s militia and have not been given leave to speak!

In response to your accusation, the moment you put on that uniform, your rights to privacy changed!

Perhaps you do not take military regulations seriously, but I assure you, sir—we do. ”

Wickham’s eyes had widened during Forster’s brief speech. Not only had he caught a whiff of the fury that was bubbling just beneath the surface, but also he was finally starting to comprehend that the red coat he wore might signify more than just a way to attract the ladies.

After that exchange, things went rapidly downhill for Lieutenant Wickham.

The unpaid debts documented by Mr. Darcy over the years, in addition to the notes provided by the Brighton merchants had even the General wide-eyed over the man’s profligacy.

Colonel Fitzwilliam and his man had done a superb job documenting the extent and variety of Wickham’s successful blackmail attempts.

In addition to the demands and receipts tabulated by the Lieutenant in his own hand, there were copies of letters he had written to threaten his victims. Arlington’s face had frozen in a frown when Dunn made his report documenting Mr. Wickham’s repeated use of various unsavory characters to sell jewelry and other valuables received through his nefarious activities.

By the end, Wickham had given up trying to protest and simply stood in rancorous silence, staring at the men at the table.

Each time he tried to charm his way out of a charge, Pickering seemed to be prepared with a fistful of papers contradicting him, making his lies look pitifully stupid.

It was not a feeling to which George Wickham was accustomed.

When the Lieutenant was eventually given the chance to make a final statement defending himself, he did not have the sense to throw himself on the mercy of his prosecutors.

Instead, he spouted off a lengthy monologue regarding how his life’s ambition to become a clergyman had been thwarted by the persecution of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Elizabeth would have found the story sadly familiar, but unfortunately for Wickham, his audience was not in a mood to believe any tale of his, especially after a receipt for four thousand dollars in lieu of the living was produced with his own signature.

Before Wickham knew what was happening, he had been abruptly silenced by the General, who observed, “If you do not have anything relevant to say, then that is quite enough,” and then delivered a guilty verdict on an exceedingly long list of disciplinary offenses and criminal misconduct charges.

Then the discussion turned to punishment.

“The standard sentence for this array of charges is hanging, of course,” commented Pickering in the same dry tone that he had used to reprimand a young Fitzwilliam Darcy for running across a courtyard many years before.

“We can have him taken over to Newgate and they will get the job done in the next day or two. I don’t see any reason to make a public exhibition out of it. ”

Wickham grew pale, his sweat having long since begun to soak through his wool uniform, showing in great, dark patches. Colonel Fitzwilliam almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

The General looked around the room. “Is there anyone who wishes to argue for leniency? Otherwise I will concur with Pickering.”

Darcy had said very little during the trial, but thoughts seemed to flicker through his mind like a flock of disturbed sparrows. Finally, it was Elizabeth’s words that steadied him.

Sighing, George Darcy’s son stood and spoke from the heart.

“For myself, sir, I would ask that Mr. Wickham be transported.” Seeing the confounded look in Richard’s eye, he added, “There are several young ladies who, even if they do not still look upon him with affection, would be disturbed to learn that their own words were used as evidence leading to his death.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam shut his mouth and was forced to agree, though it was done most unwillingly.

After considering the matter for a moment, he spoke thoughtfully to the General.

“Sir, if I might suggest, it would be easy enough to word the order such that if Lieutenant Wickham were ever to set foot in Britain again, he would be executed immediately without possibility for appeal.”

The General turned to his adjutant who agreed readily. “Yes, certainly. And if I may, sir, it strikes a good note between immediate punishment for his misdeeds and opportunity for future redemption, yet still protects his victims from ever having to face him in open court.”

In short order, the verdict was written out by Mr. Pickering and signed by the General, witnessed by the two Colonels.

Mr. George Wickham was stripped of his commission without recompense, branded according to his crimes, and readied for the penal colony in Australia on the next ship, which would be leaving within the week.

He would spend the intervening hours in the regiment’s prison.

Darcy left the building feeling that the entire trial had been rather surreal.

His conflicted feelings over the ordeal made him wish desperately for Elizabeth, but knowing that she was busy with her family, he made do by convincing his cousin to return with him to Derwent House for a brandy.

The Colonel was not fooled but held his tongue and the two men spent some hours in the library reminiscing about their childhoods.

Richard had never particularly liked George Wickham but he understood his cousin’s need to mourn the loss of a boyhood companion; one of the few left who still remembered the Darcys when Pemberley had been home to a thriving family, rather than the two orphans that remained.

Before leaving, the Colonel managed to turn his slightly inebriated cousin’s thoughts toward the future and Richard walked out into the night hoping that Darcy’s dreams would be full of a certain young lady with sparkling eyes rather than Wickham.