A/N: Enter Le Scoundrel! (and yes, I think of my ex completely as a Lt. Wickham. He's Lt. West. It works. And it doesn't ruin the book boyfriend I've always loved after Mr. Darcy... mmmmm Colonel Fitzwilliam ;-). Enjoy - Elizabeth Ann West

Elizabeth Bennet welcomed dawn cringing slightly to the musty, humid smell filling the air. The regiment had camped down for the night in a swarmy place the soldiers called Muddleswood. When the carriage stopped so close to Brighton, even Elizabeth felt confused as Lydia loudly complained about another camp night, instead of resting in a town with an inn. Mrs. Forster explained they would stop outside the ancient village of Hassock the night before so that they did not arrive in the dark to the barracks. While Elizabeth understood the logistics of the army were paramount, her younger sister found it difficult to recall her pleasure was not the priority of the trip.

"Lydia." Elizabeth called her sister's name to the sleeping form in the folding camp bed across from her. But there was no response.

"Lydia!" Elizabeth flung her small pillow over at her sister's head where it bounced off, but tugged slightly at her rolled hair pinned to her head.

"Mmm, no," Lydia groaned, and Elizabeth released an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, we have to get up. I hear people outside," she explained, as she rose, saw to her meager toilette and donned the last sensible gown from her trunk for the day's travels.

Pulling her shawl around herself as she stepped out of the tent, dressed for the day, Elizabeth watched with fascination as the many men and women in the caravan readied wagons and horses all around her. The morning's mist made the whole operation eery, and she shivered with a chill looking up at the cloudy sky stubbornly hiding the sun.

The proper army and shadow army, as she had come to call in her mind the various men and women who traveled seamlessly with the soldiers, created a noisy orchestra of chaos. Elizabeth understood many wives travelled even abroad with their husbands, stopping only a town or two away from battlefields, from the times she had studied wars with her father in his study.

With such a ruckus for any kind of troop movement, it suddenly made more sense how grand armies marched within mere miles of each other, knowing well the other's location. And yet, they would wait for dawn and meet on a battlefield in the middle, rarely using the element of surprise to turn the tide. She had not been much older than Lydia when she and Mr. Bennet read the accounts of England's greatest battles. Her father had attempted to explain the military's shared sense of honor. Seeing with her own eyes the immediate community and kinmanship knitted together in a caravan of traveling regiments, a small inkling of the concept her father had tried to teach her so long ago took hold. Camp was home; and it was very much in poor taste to ransack someone's home like a thief in the night!

"Lizzie-" Lydia said sleepily, as she stumbled out of the tent the two sisters had shared with the Forsters. The Colonel had long left his camp bed to order the troop movements and oversee breaking camp. Mrs. Forster had left shortly after to see to the needs and assignments for the other officer wives traveling with them. "La! Everyone is always so busy!" Lydia remarked as she stretched and looked around her.

Elizabeth clucked her tongue and tucked her shawl securely under her arms as she reached up to button the last fastening on the back of Lydia's gown that she had missed.

"Would you go fetch your Spencer? You are not decent to be out," Elizabeth scolded, as her sister was not in her dressing gown, thankfully. But choosing a white frock for the day, the translucent fabric covering her decolletage looked improper in the meager dawnlight.

"You don't have a Spencer," she countered.

Elizabeth lifted her shawl to reveal a plain earth brown frock made of solid calico. "Then put on your walking gown and put the silk away. Honestly, Lydia, we still have the dust of the road to contend with, at least ten more miles! Do you wish to ruin such a lovely gown?"

"But I wanted to arrive looking my best!" she whined, but re-entered the tent with a low grumble.

Mrs. Forster returned with her friend, Mrs. Warrender, married to a Lieutenant-Colonel in the regiment that had ridden out to meet Forster's own battalion. To Elizabeth's dread, two lieutenants in Colonel Forster's regiment accompanied them: Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny.

"Miss Bennet, has Miss Lydia awakened?" she asked, brightly, and Elizabeth nodded.

"Yes, and our trunks are packed. We are ready to depart. I am eager to reach our lodgings at the Preston Barracks," Elizabeth explained, and Mrs. Warrender shook her head and giggled.

"Right-o, fetch the trunks, gentlemen, if you would," the woman ordered and Elizabeth stepped directly in their way.

"A moment if you please, my sister is still readying herself in our tent," Elizabeth explained, disliking the smirks both officers couldn't hide at such intelligence.

"Silly me, I forgot there are two of you. And you shall not stay in the barracks, my dear. I couldn't possibly allow those dreadful arrangements to stand when I heard Mrs. Forster was bringing her friend from Hertfordshire! The old colonel will have to make use of his horse," the woman paused to share a knowing look with her friend. "But I said for my friend Harriet, only the best! The Forsters must be next to the Warrenders and Harringtons, right on Kings Road!" Mrs. Warrender said, and Elizabeth slowly nodded to be polite, but she had no idea what this new woman was saying.

"Forgive me, this is Mrs. Maryann Warrender, who brought her carriage from Brighton just to catch me this morning." Mrs. Forster made the hasty introduction. "But it is true, she conspired with Penelope and Harriet, and now we are staying seaside! It's such a great honor!"

"Nonsense! The terror is how long you poor dears have been traveling!"

"There's our luck, Wickham," Denny teased his friend, earning a curious look from the two married women present.

"Your luck, sir?" Mrs. Warrender asked.

Denny blushed. "Only that Miss Bennet and Miss Lydia were bright spirits at many dinners and dances in Meryton. If they will be so far as the seaside, I fear we shall not see them as often."

Elizabeth frowned as she had no inclination to see Mr. Wickham at all, and if Mr. Denny were part and parcel to the presence of the former, she had not a care to see him, either. But to the two married women, such flirtatious words were a happy circumstance.

Elizabeth watched as Mrs. Warrender reassured both gentlemen that there would be plenty of diversions for their unit on King's Road after their training as as Lydia finally reemerged from the tent.

"There! Are you satisfied now-" she stopped fussing at her sister when she noticed the new company and immediately changed her tone to a conciliatory one. "Good morning, Lieutenant Wickham," she said, batting her eyelashes and giggling. When he tilted his head to his new ally, Mrs. Warrender, Lydia turned her attention to the new friend of Mrs. Forster's. "I'm Miss Lydia Bennet," she said, dropping to a slight curtsy.

"Mrs. Maryann Warrender, at your service," the stranger introduced herself to more giggles, this time from Lydia and Mrs. Forster, but returned the head nod.

"Indeed, Mrs. Warrender has seen that we are moved to Kings Road, directly seaside in our lodgings," Elizabeth explained to her tardy sister, suddenly recalling the map she had studied in her book. "Shall we be close to the Old Steine Gardens?" she asked.

Mrs. Warrender leaned in conspiratorially after dispatching the lieutenants to their duty. "Just two blocks away. And Mrs. Fitzhurbert is in residence this summer at Steine House. We shall have so many glorious diversions," she said, clapping her hands to applaud their small triumph, drowned out as a small group of soldiers in full uniform trampled by in a double-march to meet their brothers in arms. The ground around them was quickly losing it's sturdiness as the dew and many feet turned the main through-fare of camp in a sludgy, muddy mess.

"Lydia,perhaps you should put on your boots," Elizabeth remarked, as Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny re-emerged from the tent, a trunk each on their backs. "Wouldn't a private or footman be more appropriate?" Elizabeth asked, suddenly struck by the odd efforts of officers to carry ladies' trunks.

"And trust a lowly private or footman with Miss Lydia's personal belongings? You must be more careful, Miss Bennet, an army camp is no place to risk one's favorite items to hands that would lessen your load with no remorse," Mr. Wickham explained, to the approval of Mrs. Warrender and Mrs. Forster.

"Come, we shall have your things added to my carriage and be off," she said to Mrs. Forster. "We can allow the sisters space to ride just the two of them in your carriage, and get home in plenty of time to rest and ready ourselves for tonight." Mrs. Warrender issued orders like the practiced officer wife she was.

"Why? What is tonight?" Lydia asked, trying to keep up with the conversation, but understanding the development to be a good one. Ignoring her sister was only a mild positive addition. "And who is Mrs. Fitzhurbert? I shall be glad to make her acquaintance," she said, off-handedly.

Mrs. Warrender suddenly stopped in her movement to call over the young private assigned to the Colonel's family as a sort of footman.

"My dear, one does not make acquaintances with Mrs. Fitzhurbert," Mrs. Warrender started, bewildered that Lydia knew nothing of the current politics of the Crown.

"I shall explain this matter to my sister in the carriage. But you mentioned an engagement for this evening? After all of our travel, we can't be expected-" Elizabeth was cut off by Mrs. Forster gently placing a hand upon Elizabeth's arm, before her friend Mrs. Warrender could feel further offense.

"Oh, we shall arrive with plenty of time to rest. But it is tradition for a large fete the night a new regiment arrives. There will be a dinner and dancing at the Old Ship Inn in the assembly rooms." Mrs. Forster received a well-earned nod of respect from Mrs. Warrender. Even though Mrs. Forster's husband outranked Mrs. Warrender's husband, the later held more years as an army officer rank and had taken Mrs. Forster under her tutelage. The two Bennet sisters were ushered to the waiting carriages.

As Elizabeth boarded the carriage she had previously ridden in with Mrs. Forster and Lydia, at the last minute, Lydia pulled a stunt.

"Lizzie, why don't you ride alone and rest and I shall ride with Mrs. Forster and Mrs. Warrender," she said, to the amiable responses of the two officer wives.

Elizbeth felt uneasy, as they had not even stepped foot into Brighton proper, and Lydia was already pushing to separate. As though she sensed the protectiveness of an elder sister, Mrs. Forster reached out for Elizbeth's hand and squeezed it.

"She shall be fine, with me. And your carriage will be directly behind us."

Trusting Mrs. Forster, Elizabeth agreed and felt slightly happy to ride alone for the last leg of the journey. She could read and rest in peace. Plus she would be spared what she imagined would be a very irritating show of antics by her sister to impress the new and interesting Mrs. Warrender.

For the first time since she had agreed to come and protect Lydia, Elizabeth slightly regretted her decision and felt homesick. She also wondered what their sister Jane was doing, and so she resolved to think about a letter to her elder sister as soon as they arrived in Brighton. From the way Mrs. Warrender took charge, it felt like once they were in Brighton, there would not be a moment's peace to be had!