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Elliot was intrigued despite himself. He dearly loved reading but his access to good reading material was limited to his papa’s collection—most of which he had read—and whatever was available in the small library in Meryton’s receiving rooms.
“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these,” Mr. Darcy said.
Miss Bingley laughed. “Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.”
“I wish it may also.”
“I would also advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood. We would be close to dear friends.”
“Netherfield is just as charming,” Mr. Bingley said. “And we will have dear friends here.” He smiled at Elliot.
“Certainly, you seem to think so, Charles,” Miss Bingley said, leaving no one in the room in any doubt that she did not agree. “Talking of dear friends…is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? Will she be as tall as I am?”
Elliot already knew that Miss Darcy was the sister. He had picked that piece of gossip up from Charlie Lucas. She was also heir to a significant amount of land and monies and was likely to be a highly sought after match. He wondered how her suitors might fare with Mr. Darcy as they sought to secure permission for her hand.
“I think she will be uncommonly and impressively tall,” Mr. Darcy said. “She is now about Mr. Bennet’s height.”
Elliot shot Mr. Darcy a quick look. He had not imagined that the alpha had noted his height.
“How I long to see her again!” Miss Bingley said. “I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”
That too caught Elliot’s attention because the musical arts were usually the province of the omega class, not the alphas.
“It is amazing to me how young men and women these days can have the patience to be so very accomplished as they all are,” Mr. Bingley said. “Especially omegas who are all accomplished in their own, artistic ways. Though they need to be, do they not, to snare a mate!”
“All omegas accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?” Louisa Hurst asked.
“Yes, all of them that are part of polite society, I think,” he said. “They seem to be very industrious, writing poetry and novels, making art, designing gardens and homes and the like. I scarcely know of any omega who does not have such an accomplishment and I’m sure I have never heard a young male or female spoken of for the first time, without being informed that they are very accomplished.”
“The word is applied far too liberally,” Mr. Darcy said. “I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen omegas in the whole range of my acquaintance that are really accomplished.”
“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.
Elliot thought of Jack, who had been working on reviewing and cataloguing historical papers alongside his papa for some years. Of Marc, whose skill on the pianoforte was average at best but at which he worked diligently and constantly. Of Christian, who was skilled in the culinary arts to the point where his desserts had been banned in almost their entirety by Mrs. Bennet lest they fatten her up, and even Louis, who was an accomplished water colourist when he bothered to apply himself. Elliot’s own skills were less impressive, being entirely focused on horticulture, but he had recently managed to hybridise a new rose species and was not that a small accomplishment?
He doubted the people in this room would think so because what were the achievements of omegas? Elliot had always known there was a gulf between the experience of an alpha and the regard of an omega, but he had never felt it quite so singularly as he did in that moment, and it vexed him.
“You must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished omega,” Elliot said after a moment.
Mr. Darcy looked angry once more, fixing his dark gaze on Elliot until Elliot once again felt quite uncomfortable. “Yes. I do comprehend a great deal in it.”
“Oh, certainly,” cried Miss Bingley, who else? “Given their rank and their position in society, an omega must work harder than anyone else to ensure an advantageous match. A thorough knowledge of music, drawing, dancing, the modern languages, and at least one particular artistic expression is necessary to deserve the word.” She paused and shot Elliot a satisfied look. “And something else also, something in the air and manner of walking, the tone of voice, address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”
“All this they must possess,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “But perhaps most important of all is the substantial improvement of the mind by extensive reading.”
Elliot suddenly felt as angry as Mr. Darcy looked. There was no discussion of what qualities an alpha needed to have. No list of the accomplishments they should be busy nurturing. No, their rank alone was supposed to be enough even when they were as unpleasant as Miss Bingley!
“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished omegas,” he said. “I rather wonder now at your knowing any at all.”
“Are you so severe upon your own class as to doubt the possibility of all this?” Mr. Darcy asked and their eyes met once more. He did not look angry this time but something closer to intrigued. For some reason that displeased Elliot even more than the anger had.
“I never saw such an omega. He or she would be a fearsome thing to behold with so very many accomplishments.”
Mr. Bingley laughed heartily. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of this, insisting they knew many such omegas, but at that point Elliot began to doubt that they knew any at all. Perhaps they spent all their time in their own alpha-filled bubble with only the odd beta like Eleanor Hurst admitted for variety. He looked down at his plate, which now held a dessert he did not wish to eat and was filled with a sudden anxiety about what this might mean for Jack and his hopes, and then another, unnamed anxiety, which he did not want to consider.
That anxiety stayed with him as he read to Jack from one of the few novels in the Netherfield library, as he tried to sleep in the far too opulent guest bed, and again the next morning as he urged his brother on to a speedy and complete recovery, because the sooner they escaped Netherfield the better!
Fourteen
