Forster’s office reflected military efficiency, everything arranged with precise order. Maps covered one wall. A desk held neat stacks of correspondence. Forster himself stood as Darcy entered, a solid man in his forties with greying hair.
“Mr. Darcy,” Forster said, extending his hand. “This is an unexpected pleasure. Please, sit. May I offer you refreshment?”
“Thank you, no,” Darcy replied, taking the offered chair but sitting forward with tension evident. “Colonel Forster, I have come to speak with you about Lieutenant George Wickham.”
Forster’s expression shifted immediately, welcome giving way to wariness. He lowered himself back into his chair with careful movements. “I see. May I ask what prompts this visit?”
“I recently became engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn,” Darcy said. “This connexion has made me acutely aware that Lieutenant Wickham will have access to my future wife’s younger sisters, girls who lack the experience to recognise a practiced seducer.”
Forster’s jaw tightened slightly, but he said nothing, clearly waiting.
“I have known Wickham since childhood, as he is the son of my late father’s steward. His character is not what it appears. He presents himself as an honourable gentleman, but his true nature is that of a man who cannot live within his means, a fortune hunter who preys on young women with expectations.”
Forster’s expression had gone hard. “That is a serious accusation, Mr. Darcy.”
“It is a statement of fact,” Darcy replied, meeting the Colonel’s gaze steadily. “I do not bring you tales of ancient history. I speak to you now because I observed Wickham not twenty minutes ago in the high street, paying marked attention to Miss Lydia Bennet outside a milliner’s shop. His behaviour suggested familiarity that concerned me. The girl is but fifteen.”
“Wickham is popular with the local ladies,” Forster said slowly. “That alone is not grounds for discipline.”
“No,” Darcy agreed. “But I would suggest you make inquiries among the local shopkeepers about whether Lieutenant Wickham has been accruing debts. Ask specifically aboutpromises made and not kept, about bills left unpaid. I believe you will find a pattern of behaviour that reflects poorly on the regiment. And if you ask the shopkeepers about their daughters, I suspect you will find he has engaged in other behaviour unbecoming of an officer.”
Forster’s fingers drummed against the desk in a rhythm that suggested suppressed anger. “You are asking me to investigate one of my officers based on childhood acquaintance and current suspicions.”
“I am asking you to protect the reputation of your regiment,” Darcy said, his voice dropping lower with intensity. “And to prevent potential scandal. But I understand your hesitation to act on my word alone.”
He paused, then added with careful emphasis, “I would be happy to provide references regarding Wickham’s character from those who know him well. My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and my uncle, the Earl of Matlock, are both particularly well acquainted with Wickham’s history.”
Forster studied Darcy’s face for a long moment. Finally, he nodded slowly and stood, moving to a cabinet behind his desk. He produced a key and opened the cabinet, withdrawing a slim folder that he placed on the desk.
“These are Wickham’s letters of recommendation,” Forster said, opening the folder. “They were most impressive when he applied for his commission.”
Darcy reached for the papers. He scanned the first letter quickly, recognising immediately the exaggerated praise that marked false testimony, bought and paid for most likely. The second letter made his blood freeze.
The signature at the bottom purported to be that of his uncle, the Earl of Matlock. Darcy’s finger traced the flourish beneath the name, his jaw tightening with cold fury as he recognised the forgery. The hand was similar to Lord Matlock’s, close enoughto fool someone unfamiliar with the Earl’s true writing, but the pressure of the pen was wrong. The loops too elaborate.
“This is forged,” Darcy stated, his voice emerging flat with absolute certainty. He looked up to meet Forster’s gaze directly. “My uncle, the Earl of Matlock, is well aware of George Wickham’s character. He would rather shoot the man than write such a letter. I can provide you with his direction in London so that you may write to him directly to confirm this.”
Forster took the letter from Darcy’s hand, his face darkening as he studied the signature with new attention.
“Forgery of references is a court-martial offence,” Forster said, each word clipped with barely contained anger. “If this is false, if Wickham obtained his commission through fraudulent means, he will face military justice.”
“I wish I could say I am surprised,” Darcy said, “but everything I know of Wickham’s character makes this nothing more than I would expect, Colonel. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
Forster nodded, his jaw set in a hard line. “I will investigate these matters personally and thoroughly. If what you say proves true, Lieutenant Wickham will find himself drummed out of the service and answering to his creditors without the protection of his uniform. Debtor’s prison will be his fate, most likely.”
Relief flooded through Darcy’s chest. He rose from his chair and extended his hand to Forster, who took it with a grip that conveyed both respect and shared determination.
“Thank you, Colonel. I know this is not a pleasant duty you face.”
“No duty involving dishonour ever is,” Forster replied grimly. “But it is necessary. I will not have my regiment’s reputation tarnished by a scoundrel, regardless of how charming he may appear.”
“I would ask that you waste no time,” Darcy said delicately. “I have just come from Longbourn, and I believe Mrs. Bennetwill be eager to share some news she has just received. I hope you will congratulate me on becoming engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Forster’s eyebrows flew up, and he offered his hand for Darcy to shake. “Indeed, sir, my congratulations; Miss Elizabeth is a fine young woman. And your, ah, future mother-by-law is a redoubtable lady.”
“She is, and once the news is generally known, the younger Bennet sisters become very tempting targets to Mr. Wickham,” Darcy pointed out.
“I take your point, Mr. Darcy,” Forster nodded, understanding dawning. “I will have Wickham confined to quarters while I investigate, and if what you say is true, which I already suspect it to be as I have no reason to doubt your word, he will have no opportunity to impose himself on those young ladies. You may rest assured that they will be safe under my watch.”
