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As Wickham exited the inn and headed toward the camp where he would be issued his regimentals, he saw a carriage stop with a coat of arms that he did not recognise.

A group of ladies exited the coach and entered a shop.

He had never seen so much beauty in one place, and better than that?

He could tell by the clothing and jewels that they were wealthy, very wealthy.

If it were not for four huge footmen that watched the ladies like hawks, he would have approached them.

As he walked toward the camp, he was almost salivating as he thought about how to charm one or more of the ladies into his bed.

They seemed a little older than he preferred, but for that kind of wealth and beauty he would make exceptions.

As Lady Elizabeth and her sisters entered the modiste’s store, Elizabeth who made it a point to be observant when she was off Bennet land most especially, turned and watched as the man that had leered at them continued on his path.

Yes, she had said that she would try and reserve judgement, but that man made a cold shiver travel the length of her spine.

“Are you well, Lizzy?” Lady Mary asked her sister.

“I am, thank you, sister.” She then turned to all four of her sisters “Did anyone of you see how that man was leering at us, or was I imagining things?”

“No, Lizzy, it was not your imagination. I, too, saw it,” Marie agreed with her younger sister. “That is not a man who we want to know.”

“Make sure that none of you venture out alone without at least two footmen, sisters,” Lady Jane reminded them. All sisters nodded and agreed that they should mention the lecherous man to their parents.

The subject of their worry reported in and handed the Colonel’s note to the men to issue him regimentals at the appropriate cost with the rank of ensign.

He spied a captain he correctly guessed was part of the advance party.

Once he was in uniform and looking very well in scarlet regimentals, he approached the Captain with his idea of a salute.

Once he introduced himself, the man introduced himself as Captain Carter.

With some subtle questions, Wickham learned the information that he craved.

He had just seen the daughters of the Duke of Hertfordshire, who, if stories were to be believed, had dowries that made the mouse’s look like a pittance.

On Thursday evening the Phillips’ had a reception to welcome some of the officers, led by Colonel and Mrs. Forster.

Harriet Forster was the oldest of four daughters, whose father was a country squire in Herefordshire with an entailed estate.

When she was introduced to the Bennet daughters, they all laughed about the coincidence that her maiden name was Benet but was spelled with one ‘n’.

The three oldest Bennet daughters looked at each other and smiled, as hers was the family that Mr. Darcy had assumed theirs to be.

Mrs. Forster was a genteel lady who was between the oldest Bennet daughters and the middle daughter in age.

She seemed to be a very sensible lady, one that the Bennets would not object to getting to know.

The Duke and Duchess were sitting with Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, their discussion quiet and most amusing.

All their sons had been invited to Netherfield to have dinner with Bingley and Hurst and so were not present.

The three oldest were sitting with Charlotte, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Hurst when Mrs. Forster approached them and asked if she could introduce a new ensign to them.

Before they looked at the man, Marie inclined her head in acquiescence.

She immediately regretted her decision when she saw Lizzy staring at the man with disdain.

It was the man from the street. The Bennet ladies signalled each other that they would wait and see what the man was about.

“Ensign George Wickham, it is my pleasure to present Ladies Marie, Jane, and Elizabeth Bennet to you. Mrs. Pierce is the parson’s wife, and finally, Mrs, Hurst and Miss Bingley of Netherfield.

Ladies, I present Mr. George Wickham, the newest recruit in the Derbyshire Militia. ”

It was worse than she imagined. Lady Elizabeth was looking at a seducer of maidens, manipulator of young girls, leaver of debts, and all-round blackguard.

She politely excused herself from the group and as unobtrusively as she could joined her parents, uncle, and aunt.

She requested that her uncle ask the Colonel to join them.

When he did, she spoke quietly so no one would hear her words outside of their small group.

“Mama and Papa, do you remember the name of the blackguard that Mr. Darcy told us about?”

The Duke looked confused but answered, “Why, yes I do, George Wickham.”

As soon as the Colonel heard the name, he almost yelled the name, but regulated himself just in time. “What is this man accused of?”

Between the Duke and his middle daughter, Forster was informed of the character of his new officer without mentioning Miss Darcy’s name or anything that would identify the family.

Lady Elizabeth then proposed a plan whereby she would mention something negative about Darcy in the debaucher’s hearing, and they would be able to gauge if he was the same man by his reaction.

As she walked back to her group still being ‘entertained’ by Mr. Wickham, the Colonel quietly posted officers at each possible exit from the room.

As soon as the man took a break in his chatter, Lady Elizabeth asked, “You are from Derbyshire correct, Mr. Wickham?”

“Yes, my lady. I used to live in that county.” He affected a sad mien.

“Do you know the Darcys, by any chance?” She inquired, and thankfully the rest of the ladies in her party did not ask any questions.

“W-why do y-you ask,” he asked as his pallor changed to a shade of white.

“The disagreeable and rude man was here. He was run out of town,” Lady Elizabeth laid it on thick to draw the man in.

‘ What luck! Darcy was here and they hate him. I will be able to garner much sympathy! ’ he told himself and then proceeded to unfold his version of events to the ladies. He was so enjoying himself that he did not notice that he was the only one talking and all were listening to him.

When he was done with what the Bennets knew to be pack of lies but for little kernels of truth here and there, Elizabeth drew him on a little more.

“How despicable to ignore his father’s wishes.

” The dastardly man looked incredibly sad and nodded his head in agreement.

Just as he felt like it was all going his way, she pounced.

“Ensign, you told us that your godfather put his desire that you receive the living in his will, did you not?” Thinking that he would garner more sympathy, he allowed that it was so.

“Then why did you not seek legal redress?” she asked with feigned innocence.

His face fell as he tried to come up with a plausible excuse, “I did not want to harm the son in honour of my godfather.”

Before he could spout any more contradictory lies, the lady with the finest eyes he had ever seen proceeded with her prosecution.

“Could the reason be that you refused to take orders and were paid three thousand pounds then signed a legal document resigning all claim to the living in exchange for the pecuniary advantage that you received?”

“H-h-how could you…” he stammered, his mind reeling, and he could not fathom how the lady could have this knowledge.

“Not only that, but you also received an additional one-thousand-pound legacy from your godfather, leaving Pemberley with four thousand pounds. Please tell us how you wasted the money in two years and then wrote to Mr. Darcy demanding the living that you had no claim over?” She arched an eyebrow.

“And ‘Mr.’ Wickham, pray tell us about all of the ruined maidens and debts that you have left around the country.”

Wickham had no idea what had hit him, the chit knew all about him, but how, if she hated Darcy?

To add insult to injury, she was laughing at him.

He was about to lunge for her when he felt himself being gripped and restrained by two of the officers.

The Colonel was about to speak when Lady Elizabeth told him one more thing.

“My sisters, the beautiful blond ladies here,” she pointed at Ladies Jane and Marie, “are betrothed to the brothers Fitzwilliam. I understand that my soon-to-be brother, Richard, would like to speak to you.” Wickham had been scared before, but now he was petrified.

What he heard next from the Colonel would bring him pain, but at least he would be able to leave and be gone before Colonel Fitzwilliam got his hands on his person.

“You will be escorted to the camp where you will be stripped of your rank, and you will not receive any returned money as stated in the Pledge of Honour that you signed. For untruths on said pledge, you will receive thirty lashes and be sent on your way. Your name and description will be disseminated to all militia units, so I would not try to ply your lies and manipulation with any of them if I were you,” the terribly angry colonel warned the dissipator.