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“I am talking generally,” she said. “After all, it is the duty of all omegas in polite society, with their advantages, and certainly those with the very best familial connections, to try and secure as advantageous a match as possible.”
“It is,” Elliot said. “But that is due to the restrictions of society also.”
“Restrictions?” Darcy turned in his chair and looked up at Elliot. The other man had crossed his arms now and looked exceedingly uncomfortable. Caroline Bingley knew it. Had, in fact, arranged this to happen, and hoped for an outcome which would show both her brother and Mr. Darcy the folly of mating with an omega when other choices were available.
“There are few options for advancement for omegas,” Elliot said softly, “other than through mating and marriage to another. We can be celebrated artists, celebrated writers, we can in fact dominate the arts, but it matters not, unless we mate with a beta or an alpha.”
“I have often wondered why omegas are simply not content with their situations,” Bingley asked.
“I suppose those in polite society generally are,” Elliot said, “unless there is an entail involved. As you know, omegas cannot inherit if there is a relative who is a beta or an alpha.” He shrugged. “They may lose their homes and their means in those circumstances.”
“But you are able to follow your interests,” Bingley said. “And your work is celebrated.”
“Yes,” Elliot replied. “But as alphas you are able to do whatever you want and rarely do you face the censure of society for any of your choices.”
He moved slightly and caught Darcy’s eye. A sizzle of excitement shot through Darcy at the contact and for the first time he really began to consider what that meant.
“Perhaps,” he said. “But as alphas, the leaders of our society, we have a responsibility to ensure it is administered properly and we maintain our traditions.”
“The self-appointed leaders,” Elliot said, and Miss Bingley gasped in delight. This was better than she had hoped for.
“Nature has made it so,” Darcy said.
Elliot smiled and pointed to the column of trees outside the window. The leaves were a riot of beautiful greens where just weeks before they had been absent entirely.
“Nature changes every day,” he said.
Darcy stood up, his letter now forgotten, that same excitement dancing through him. “You question the very fabric of how our world works?” he asked, and he did not know if he was intrigued or outraged.
“I question everything,” Elliot said with a smile. “It is a character failing of mine. But what of you, Mr. Darcy,” he asked. “What are your defects?”
“I have faults enough,” Darcy said. “But they are not, I hope, of understanding. You sense that I am an alpha the moment you walk into this room, just as I sense you are an omega. Those crude cave drawings we spoke of from times past have recorded the very same thing. An alpha commands. An omega obeys. There are no exceptions to this.”
“There are always exceptions,” Elliot said softly.
Silence filled the room.
Elliot withstood it, that small smile continuing to play around his lips. In doing so, Darcy’s regard only increased. He realised then that every conversation he had with Elliot, no matter how brief, showed a new facet to his character that Darcy had not expected and in which he was rapidly beginning to find bewitching. He even began to believe that, were it not for the inferiority of Elliot’s connections, he should be in some danger, and he understood then the continued folly of paying Elliot too much attention and resolved to cease immediately.
“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind showing us your accomplishments.”
Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened and Darcy, after a few moments, was not sorry for it.
Fifteen
After that conversation Elliot resolved to avoid Mr. Darcy as much as possible. He feared that he had said far too much in that drawing room and likely given the alphas a fright! It was Mr. Darcy’s fault entirely, of course. He seemed to goad a response from Elliot that was not appropriate, and Elliot was unsure why he was not able to properly conduct himself around the other male. Perhaps it was the dislike, of which Elliot was still quite convinced he was experiencing for the other man!
On that basis Elliot had spent the better part of the next morning with Jack, who was still unwell though now insisting he could be removed to Longbourn as soon as possible as he was loath to continue to accept Mr. Bingley’s hospitality.
“I fear I am not giving quite the impression I would like to give,” he said as Elliot aided him in removing the stubble on his face. Jack did not enjoy a full beard, keeping only his very neat moustache.
“And you are confident that you can withstand the journey?” Elliot asked.
A coughing fit followed but Jack would not be moved. He wanted to return home. “Indeed, and if you could secure use of Mr. Bingley’s carriage we can be on our way by luncheon.”
Elliot did just that, seeking our Mr. Bingley who agreed to bring the carriage around whenever Jack wanted to use it. He seemed disappointed by Jack’s decision and there was no doubt now to Elliot that Mr. Bingley had developed feelings for his brother. The flowers, the little delicacies he had asked his cook to send up to tempt Jack’s appetite, his insistence that Jack remain at Netherfield until he was well, they were all clear signs, and Elliot found himself wondering if Mrs. Bennet’s scheme might not come to fruition after all!
Their plans so set, Elliot took a quick walk around the gardens, breathing in the fresh air that always came following a significant downpour. He wished he had enough time to do a proper tour of them, to spend whole days tromping over the grounds, but it was not to be. The winding pathways that he stuck to ensured that Elliot could easily be found if needed, and it was not long before someone did find him.
