I truly despise large gatherings and avoid them as often as I can because even with my ear plugged with cotton or beeswax, I could still hear what sounded like hundreds of conversations at once. I eventually trained myself to ignore most of them and allow my ears to pick out a name or something else of importance. I used soft cotton to plug my ear in those situations. It did not work as well as beeswax, but I could remove it in a moment in case of need.

The need came up when I least expected it. I heard a name important to me and removed the plug with alacrity. With the plug in, I could not distinguish direction very well, but once my ear was free, and I moved to the right location, I could hear the conversation between the two redcoats as easily as an ordinary person a couple of feet away.

"What about Miss Elizabeth? You must admit she has impressive assets and a fiery disposition. A man could wait a long time to find such a fine specimen."

"While she would be a fine one to bed, I doubt she could be brought to the point voluntarily. She seems too sensible. Miss Elizabeth is as likely to give you a drubbing as a tup. In my extensive experience, you need someone younger and stupider."

"Such as Miss Loosey Lydia!" Lieutenant Carter said with a backslapping laugh.

"Aye… not much challenge there. She does have the right assets, seems keen to put them to use, and is not especially bright!" Lieutenant Wickham replied.

I had heard that sort of talk more often than you can imagine. Most of the time, it was just idle boasting, what I called 'boys being stupid', or in my less charitable days, 'stupid boys practising being stupid men'. As I said, my malady did not allow one to naively keep a good impression of our society without a great deal of effort—which I was mostly unwilling to expend.

I listened carefully for quite some time. They had other friends join and leave, but they kept coming back to the main topic.

The coup de grace came when they welcomed 'Miss Lydia' to their company, and Wickham started plying her with the exact words they had rehearsed earlier. It was as if the two rakes had worked out the script for a play in their earlier discussion, and they were playing it out on stage.

After she left, the two curs kept talking furtively about her, along with another half-dozen of the younger and sillier girls in our little community. When they made a substantial wager on the outcome and pulled another officer over to witness the wager and write it down, I knew what to do.

Fortunately, most houses in the neighbourhood purchased laudanum by the pint, so it was easy enough to obtain. My acute hearing made me a good spy and I could move like a cat when I felt the need. It was child's play to drop a bit of laudanum in their drinks, and I naturally dosed the scorekeeper while I was at it; and Colonel Forster for good measure, just for running such a loose ship.

Since the two men were not only working on the next week's conquests, but in their minds, the following month or two, they mixed freely and made quite the impression of two savage lunkheads who could not hold their liquor. They staggered and swaggered and braggered their way through the assembly, leaving disgust in their wake from all the sensible people, and prodigious bouts of sighing stupidity in many the sillier young ladies.

Towards the end of the night, a whisper in the ear had both hurrying downstairs with the expectation of something they might truly enjoy in the form of an enterprising maid. Unfortunately for them, stairs are a bit tricky for inebriated men—especially when someone trips one man at the top and shoves him down on top of the other.

They went down the stairs with a most diverting bit of clash and clamour, noises and grunts. They landed at the bottom with a resounding thunk, and I was steps behind.

Lieutenant Carter was dead as a doornail with a neck broken bad enough to be at a most sickening angle, but Lieutenant Wickham stared at me with malevolent, hate-filled eyes. He even managed to threaten the most severe retribution once he got back on his feet.

To tell the truth, I was somewhat enjoying his taunts, but I did not have all night. With a sigh, I grabbed the side of his head and his chin. A quick twist of the wrist, a grunt, and a nice resounding crunch put an end to all his wagers.

After that, I simply made a huge fuss. When Sir William appeared, an appropriate amount of babbling incoherency was all it took to establish my innocence. I thought it best to make a report to the magistrate (Sir William) while he was half-disguised, and my 'discovery' was accepted as exactly that.

Back in my bed I fell easily into the dreamless sleep of the just with one last thought:

Lydia is safe!