Author's note: I appreciate everyone who pointed out some inconsistencies with previous chapters. That's what happens when I go too long between writing! So, I changed the conversation about Mrs. Bennet insisting Elizabeth come home to be about marrying officers instead. I may redo it in the final version a bit, but Mr. Bennet teasing his wife in Chapter 11 about Mr. Collins (and her not knowing about) will stand.

I also added into the timeline a couple of days of Elizabeth just being in bed at Netherfield resting her feet. Nothing of significance happens, other than she can walk to Longbourn much better.

And now, let's get to know Wickham a bit better - and see what subtle (but important) changes happen when he and Darcy meet.

Chapter 12

Elizabeth looked appraisingly at the new major being introduced by Denny. His appearance was greatly in his favor, and he had all the best parts of of a handsome man: a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address.

"Are you staying long in Meryton, then, Mr. Wickham?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, all winter," he replied. "I have just been transferred in from a regiment in Staffordshire, my home county. I know many of the lads here in this group from my childhood, and I look forward to becoming reacquainted with them."

"And lording your authority over all of us, eh?" Denny added, elbowing his friend in the ribs.

"Watch your tone, Denny, or I shall have you cleaning the barracks for a month," Wickham retorted with a smile.

"But where is your red coat, if you are a major?" Lydia interjected with a pout. "You cannot be that good of an officer if you aren't wearing your uniform."

"Lydia," Elizabeth admonished, her voice quiet but sharp.

"I'm afraid it was quite unfit for wearing after my travels, and it is currently being washed and repaired," Wickham said with a small smile.

"Unfit for wearing?" Denny laughed. "What my good friend here is too modest to admit is that on his journey, he - along with a few other soldiers who were also being transferred - came upon a stagecoach being robbed by highwaymen!"

The ladies all gasped, and Wickham's face turned red. "Now, Denny, I do not think we need to share all the details, please."

Denny ignored his friend and continued the story. "Wickham bravely ordered his men to surround the thieves, and they were quickly apprehended."

"Fortunately, all we did to do was display our uniforms, and they were quick to surrender," Wickham interjected wryly.

"Not all of them!" cried Denny. Ignoring the look Major Wickham gave him, he continued on. "As Wickham approached one fellow to tie him up, the man pulled a knife from his boot and lunged at him!"

"Denny," Wickham said sharply, but it was too late.

The ladies' reaction was quite audible, and Kitty was near tears. "Are you very injured, then?"

"Will you have a scar?" Lydia asked, boldly eying Wickham's chest.

As much as Elizabeth's curiosity burned to hear the remainder of the tale, she was quite aware of the many different improprieties of the situation. "I think that is quite enough," she said firmly, putting her arm around Kitty. "We shall make our farewells, gentlemen, and wish you all a good day."

"But I want to hear the rest!" wailed Lydia.

"You could have been killed," said Kitty, beginning to sob into Elizabeth's shoulder.

Mary looked severely at the group. "As it tells us in the Good Book in Ephesians, 'Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.' This was hardly uplifting."

Elizabeth frowned at both of the officers. Denny looked around at the others, confusion on his face, and he turned to his commander for help.

Wickham's expression caused the junior officer to straighten bearing and stand at attention. "I believe, Lieutenant, that it would be best if you returned to the camp now. I will speak with you after tonight's evening meal." The major's voice was laced with steel, which was reflected in his ice-blue eyes.

"Yes, sir." Denny saluted, then turned and marched away, looking back only once with uncertainty.

Wickham watched until the younger man was almost out of sight, then he turned his attention back to the Bennet sisters. "Ladies, please accept my sincerest apologies for my subordinate's behavior. I assure you, it will not be repeated."

Elizabeth tightened her grip on Kitty's shoulder, who was still weeping softly. "Thank you, Major Wickham."

"Miss… Catherine, was it?"

The younger girl sniffed and raised tear-filled eyes up to the handsome man. She flushed slightly when he fixed his gaze directly on her face. "Yes, sir. But everyone calls me Kitty."

He gave her a gentle smile. "Please be assured that Mr. Denny greatly exaggerated the situation. The 'man' who lunged at me was nothing more than a youth, and the knife was little more than a pen knife. The only damage was a cut of about three inches to the outer lining of my coat. No blood was shed, and there was no real peril."

Kitty returned his smile with one of her own, and Elizabeth nodded her appreciation. Lydia, in an irritated tone of voice, broke into the conversation. "No sword fight or wounds? No danger? Sounds rather boring, if you ask me."

"Lydia Bennet!" Elizabeth's reproach was met with a toss of curls by the youngest Bennet girl.

Wickham watched the exchange with a slight frown. "I, for one, am grateful for the lack of excitement," he said. "After spending time on the Continent and seeing my share of battles, I am ready for a quiet winter of training and exercises."

Lydia huffed and flounced away towards the window of the haberdasher's shop, where she began to intently study a new bonnet that had been placed on display. Her darting eyes revealed her continued interest in the conversation, however, and no one was fooled by her pretended indifference.

"Please forgive my sister," Elizabeth said, feeling her cheeks turn warm.

"She is young," Wickham said kindly. In a slightly louder voice he added, "I hope that, in turn, you will forgive Mr. Denny. Not every officer is a gentleman, of course."

"What do you mean?" As quickly as she had left, Lydia was once again standing with the group. "I thought all officers were considered gentlemen."

"By profession, perhaps," Wickham said. "However, you know nothing of a man's background when he is in the militia. While most militia officers are chosen from local gentry, the rank of lieutenant is the most difficult to fill, and many times the property ownership qualifications are simply ignored by the colonel if the man is handsome enough."

"Surely Colonel Forster wouldn't -" Lydia began to protest.

"I'm afraid, Miss Lucy -"

"Lydia!" The fury in the girl's voice reminded Elizabeth of a three-year-old child, and she wouldn't have been surprised to see her youngest sister stamp her foot in her indignation.

He continued as if she hadn't spoken. " - that it's quite prevalent in every county in England. That's part of why some of us who are unable to continue in the Regulars are assigned to oversee training in the militia. Many of the junior officers are in just as much need of training in society and etiquette as they are in field maneuvers and weaponry."

"Well, it is very good, then, that there are those who are doing their part to ensure the lieutenants are being taught to behave as gentlemen ought," Elizabeth said with a pointed look and raised eyebrows. "I trust you and your fellow commanding officers will be taking the responsibility seriously."

"Indeed, Miss Elizabeth," Wickham said with a low bow. "And now, may I escort your ladies to your destination?"

"Oh, we are just going on to my Aunt Philips to hear about her card party - her house is just down there,

Lydia said, pointing.

The group began walking that direction, with Lydia once more prattling on about nothing at all. Her annoyance towards the handsome gentleman seemed to have vanished even more quickly as it had arrived. No doubt due to his uncommonly beautiful appearance, Elizabeth thought with a private smirk.

At the end of their short walk, Lydia entreated Major Wickham to come inside. He demurred, stating that he had not been introduced yet to the lady of the house, and would have continued on, had Mrs. Philips not thrown up the parlor window and loudly seconded the invitation of her youngest - and most beloved - niece.

Lydia, Kitty, and Mary quickly went into their aunt's house through the front door, leaving Elizabeth behind with Wickham, who was patiently waiting for all of the ladies to enter. Just as Elizabeth was about to go in, she heard her name called in greeting.

Turning around, she spied Bingley and. Darcy on horses, making their way down the street. Upon seeing her, the two gentlemen changed direction and came directly towards her. They began the usual civilities, and Bingley said he was just on his way to Longbourn to call on Mr. Bennet. He gave her a particular look when he made this statement, and she responded by shaking her head ever so slightly in the negative.

Bingley's shoulders slumped forward slightly at her indication that no approval had been granted, and he looked awkwardly at his friend for help.

For his part, Darcy had corroborated Bingley's statement with a bow, and he was determinedly attempting to fix his gaze on any object other than Elizabeth. It was then that he happened to catch sight of Major Wickham, and Elizabeth witnessed the the countenance of both as they looked at one other.

Darcy turned white, and Wickham's turned red. They both stared at one another for several long moments, not making a sound. Elizabeth almost expected Darcy to turn his back and ride away, but it was as if he were frozen in place.

The silence might have continued indefinitely had not Bingley cleared his throat and said, "Miss Bennet, might you introduce me to your friend?"

"Certainly, although I have only made his acquaintance myself this afternoon. Mr. Bingley, may I present Major Wickham? He has recently joined the local militia."

"Pleased to meet you, Major," Bingley said with a grin, just as Darcy blurted out, "Major?"

Wickham's return smile at Bingley froze, and he turned towards Darcy. "Fitzilliam, it is good to see you again. Yes, I am a major in the militia."

"I would not have expected that. I had thought you had… other ambitions."

"Well, fifteen years is quite a long time. Things have changed since we were boys, and we are clearly no longer the same people we once were."

"No, no we are not." Darcy's voice was troubled.

An awkward silence fell over the group, but it was quickly interrupted when Mrs. Phillips' voice echoed shrilly from the parlor. "Elizabeth! Are you not coming in? Tell Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy they are welcome to join us as well!"

"Mr. Darcy?" Lydia's screech of excitement followed her aunt's cry out the door.

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from laughing as Darcy's eyes widened in what she could only deem to be panic. "Bingley, as it appears your call to Longbourn is no longer required, perhaps we should return to Netherfield?"

"What? Oh, yes, of course! I should ensure that all of my guests are still comfortable. Miss Elizabeth, shall I inform my sister you will be returning in time for dinner?"

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth replied.

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Major," Bingley added with a bow before turning his horse.

"George." Darcy's nod was brief, as was Wickham's returning, "Fitzwilliam."

Mrs. Philips and Lydia repeated their cries for Elizabeth and Wickham to enter the house, and the pair made their way into the parlor where Mrs. Philips and the three youngest Bennet girls were gathered. Wickham's attentions were immediately monopolized, and there was no opportunity for Elizabeth to sate her curiosity as to the history between the soldier and Darcy.

At length, the conversation turned to local gossip. Lydia, in her typical dramatic fashion, said in a loud whisper, "You will scarcely believe what I heard yesterday about Mr. Harwood!"

"The blacksmith's son?" gasped Mrs. Philips, ever ready for new tidbits of local news. She leaned closer to her niece. "Do tell!"

Lydia, hardly able to contain herself, said, "I heard from Miss Long, who heard it from Mary King, that Jenny Lamb - you know, the butcher's daughter - has declared that she will follow Mr. Harwood to London for his apprenticeship, and her father has locked her in her room to keep her from going!"

Kitty, always eager for romantic tales, sighed. "How utterly romantic! But what will they do? She must be heartbroken."

"Apparently, she tried to climb out of the window and sneak out to see him, but she ended up falling down into the bushes! She made such a fuss that people were coming out of their homes to see what the matter was."

Mrs. Philips chuckled, a gleam in her eye. "Such determination! But poor Jenny, thwarted by both love and gravity."

Lydia bounced on her seat, thrilled by the drama. "Yes, and now everyone in Meryton is talking about it. Imagine, being the talk of the town over a love affair!"

Mary frowned severely. "Unhappy as the event must be for Jenny, we may draw from it this useful lesson:—that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable, that one false step involves her in endless ruin, that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful, and that she cannot be too much guarded in her behavior towards the undeserving of the other sex."

"Well said, Miss Mary."

Everyone turned to look at Wickham, who had gone quiet once the conversations had turned its focus towards local people and not the gentleman himself.

Mary flushed scarlet and murmured her thanks, looking down at her tea cup. Lydia gave a snort of laughter, and Kitty merely said, "I don't… I don't think I understand."

Wickham gave her a gentle smile. "I think that is a question best answered by someone more closely related to you. All I will say is that I have known of more than one woman whose entire life has been destroyed by nothing more than idle gossip."

"If you want to discuss it further, Kitty, you and I can speak later," Elizabeth said. "You are more than welcome to call on Jane and myself at Netherfield at any time, or I can come to you."

"You are staying at Netherfield? With Fitz- with Mr. Darcy?" Wickham asked.

"You are new, aren't you?" Lydia laughed. "Jane fell ill while visiting her friends and cannot be moved. Or so says the London doctor. So Lizzy is staying there to tend to her." The girl's face fell to a scowl. As if remembering something. "Some people have all the luck."

Mrs. Phillips, sipping her tea, did her best to smooth things over by saying a few minutes too late, "Well, it certainly adds a bit of excitement to our little Meryton. But let's hope the young lovers find a way to reconcile with her father. Such family disputes can be quite distressing."

At that, Wickham stood from his chair. "I'm afraid, ladies, that it is time for me to leave your most charming company. Alas, duty for king and country awaits me, and I must needs return to the barracks."

"Are you not staying at the inn?" Kitty asked with surprise. "I thought all of the senior officers stayed there or at the public house."

"Many do, but they also come from wealthier families who could afford to purchase them a commission at that high of a rank. My father was a steward, and I only became a major due to battlefield promotions. I do not receive an additional allowance from my family as many of my fellow senior officers do, and I'm afraid even majors are not paid well."

"How much are majors paid?"

"Lydia!" Elizabeth cried.

Wickham chuckled. "It's quite alright, Miss Elizabeth. I earn about two fifty pounds per annum, Miss Libby."

"It's Lydia," the girl growled.

"So little?" Kitty asked with wide eyes.

He nodded. "A lieutenant receives much less - only receives four shillings, eight pence per day."

"That's just eighty-five pounds in a year!" Lydia exclaimed, forgetting her anger in her amazement. "That's hardly more than my pin money. You ought to get more."

"He that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver; nor he that loveth abundance with increase: this is also vanity."

All eyes turned towards Mary, who sniffed with disdain and added, "From the book of Ecclesiastes, chapter five."

"Lord, Mary, no one wants your lectures now," huffed Lydia.

"It doesn't seem fair that you would risk your life for our protection, only to be given so little," Kitty said in a soft voice.

"I quite agree," Wickham said quietly.

The room fell silent for a moment before Elizabeth said, "Well, I believe that explains why so few of the lieutenants are married! Can you imagine, sisters, trying to live on such a small income? I daresay that Lydia would die without having enough funds for a new ribbon at least once a month!"

Lydia stuck her tongue out at Elizabeth, then laughed good-naturedly along with the rest of the room's occupants. This last sally proved to be the final part of the conversation, and everyone began to make their farewells.

As Mrs. Philips pulled Elizabeth into a warm embrace, she said, "I do hope that you will join us for a a card party in a few days. We will be hosting several of the officers, as well as the Netherfield party. It simply wouldn't be the same without you, my dear! Please do say you'll come."

Elizabeth hesitated, then said, "It will entirely depend on how Jane is faring,"

"Of course, I quite understand."

Mrs. Philips then turned towards Wickham and extended the same invitation, which was accepted on the condition that he would not be on-duty the night of the event.

At last, each person made their way through the front door. Kitty and Lydia scuttled towards Netherfield, eager to be the first to share the news of a card party at the Philips residence with their mother.

For her part, Elizabeth continued on her way back towards Netherfield along the main road, her mind full of the charming manners and handsome face of her new acquaintance.

Almost too late, she heard the sounds of a carriage coming towards her. She stepped to the side, grateful to the driver for slowing down as he approached. The coachman - wearing livery that marked him from Netherfield - tipped his hat as the carriage went past.

Through the open window, Elizabeth saw Miss Bingley sitting in the coach. The woman's face was a mottled shade of red, and her face was streaked with tears. Their eyes met and held for a moment, then something akin to hatred crossed the rider's face, and she turned her back as the window snapped closed.

Elizabeth stifled a chuckle and continued on her way, feeling more confident about her stay at Netherfield now that the most pernicious of its residents would no longer be present.