Omega’s Gambit by Flora Quincy

Viola

It.Was. All. Too. Much.

I maintained a carefree bearing until I made it to the safety of my bedroom, where at last I could confront my reaction to the duke while wearing my own clothes. He’d scented me as Viola, and I had melted like butter, feeling more like an omega than ever before. Rejoicing that an alpha as great as the Duke of Orley had responded to my scent.

Not for the first time, it struck me how dangerous an alpha like the Duke of Orley could be to an inexperienced omega like myself. Tall, broad, strong, unrelentingly attractive. Hair like honey washed throughout with red sheen. Intelligent eyes that flashed beneath heavy brows giving him the look of a perpetual scowl, even when he was amused or pleased by something I had said. He possessed an unfashionably firm jaw with full lips, though you wouldn’t know it for how frequently he pressed them together in annoyance. He thought his broken nose ugly, but to me it revealed a dangerous element. That twisted nose manifested his primal and feral strength. His every look and word demonstrated that he could master anyone, omega, beta, or alpha, and come away the winner. And then I had to contend with how his scent thickened when his temper sparked and he put out more of that alpha musk. I covered my face with cold hands in hopes of calming the heat that suffused my body.

I dreaded facing my physical reaction to the duke. The cloths folded with sawdust that unmated omegas wore to absorb unexpected slick were nearly soaked. Yet the duke had not reacted as most alphas might. His self-control was nearly as intoxicating as the rough sound of his voice. I threw the cloths away for the maids to deal with as if removing them from my sight would banish the shame of reacting so strongly to an alpha. It had not been the same at the club, or even the first time we had met. I could only conclude that his reaction to my real scent had triggered such an embarrassing rush of slick. His own scent had become heavy with arousal, and as I’d left I’d seen how his erection had pressed against his breeches. My fingers traced along my breasts, down my stomach to press against my exposed sex. I snatched them away at the final moment before I gave in to my temptation to touch.

“It is not your fault,” I told myself. He was, after all, an alpha responding to the traces of my scent on the dress, the muted smell of slick that had flooded between my thighs. Any unmated omega would cause an alpha to release a strong scent of his own seeking out a receptive home for his knot. There was no blame on either side. We were trapped by our natures. Nothing was more natural, and yet I recoiled from my own body’s response. Could I really have felt desire for him? An alpha who’d ordered me to ferret out information on the woman he intended to marry. As if a duke’s secretary shouldn’t be focused on writing letters and conducting business for the duchy. Then I’d been so bold as to suggest I woo her in his place. He wished to marry another omega, I reminded myself. Not me, another.

My body betrayed me at the memory of his cock and fresh slick gathered between my thighs. That alpha scent so much richer than any I’d experienced before. Like sun-warmed leather and cloves, playing my every nerve raw. Not knowing whether I wished to stay in touching distance or run, had me hanging upon his words and slipping out of the guise of Iris and back to Viola. Young, naive, and for the first time alone with an alpha I was not related to. While I had learnt how to be an alpha amongst alphas, learnt the way they behaved, I had no good knowledge of how omegas should behave with alphas. Was the rush of slick normal when in such near proximity? Should I perhaps end my plan? My fears battered at my resolve. I reached for pen and paper to write a letter to my mother seeking her advice. Yet I could not find the words. Mama was loving and kind. She would urge me to be honest and not play about like this when I could instead be straightforward. She would tell me to appeal to the duke, to put forward arguments to convince him of my position without once putting me in danger.

But Mama, an alpha, would not understand.

I wish I had spoken with my sisters about being an omega around alphas they were not related to. For now, I knew the depth of my ignorance. How was I to temper my response when an alpha looked at me the way the duke had been staring at me? Was there some trick? Beatrice would know. She was the oldest, eight and twenty. She had been out in society, danced and supped and flirted with alphas before claiming she had no interest in marriage or mating. Her knowledge would be invaluable. But she was in Paris with our Mama. My shoulders slumped. How had I forgotten that Mama was no longer in the country?

One thing though was as plain as the nose on my face. I would not dress as an omega around the duke. If he responded so strongly to a whiff of my true scent when I was wearing fresh clothes, then what would it be like if... It didn’t bear thinking of. Dammit.

You liked it though. You liked when he looked at you with hunger, my traitorous heart taunted. You liked the desire reflected in his eyes.

How could I not? He was the first person, male or female, alpha or beta or omega, who had looked at Viola with desire.

I shoved the thoughts aside. Something would have to be done, but first I needed to change out of Iris’ clothes. I regretted leaving my favourite dress with the duke, but I could not trust my omega instincts that wanted to hoard the dress that would have carried the virile alpha’s scent. What if I had attempted to build a nest around the smell? I could have found myself in dangerous waters… No, I would not think on it. I changed quickly into my own things, hoping that skirts would help me return more to myself. I could get some writing done, I decided. Clear my head a bit.

* * *

An hour later I came down the stairs to find my uncle’s butler hovering.

“A visitor for you, Miss. A Mrs Markham.”

“Oh!” My hand fluttered near my mouth. Would she be able to tell the difference between me in my dress and how I had appeared to her the other day? Or would my disguise prove weak against a woman as watchful as she? “Is she... Has she been waiting long?”

“Just arrived. I ordered tea,” he smiled.

“Thank you. I am not sure if I would have remembered that,” I admitted. It struck me that I’d never received guests on my own.

“Go in, Miss Viola. She is not so frightening.”

I had to laugh at that. How could I be afraid of Mrs Markham when I had spent two evenings surrounded by alphas? When I’d spent every day for near three weeks with an alpha I lusted for? I straightened my shoulders. If I could be an alpha amongst alphas, I could be an omega with another omega.

“Mrs Markham, I am sorry for keeping you waiting,” I smiled and dropped a slight curtsy. “I am afraid my aunt is out and cannot be here to greet you.”

“Worry not, child. It was you I wished to speak with. Your sister Beatrice is a friend of sorts. I have wanted to meet you alone for quite some time. And to see up close if your eyes are as striking as she has claimed. They are. Quite remarkable, my dear. Quite remarkable.”

“My eyes!” I laughed at the absurdity. “Would anything about my appearance be remarkable if not for my violet eyes? Forgive me! I am all mirth and no...”

“I know Beatrice well enough to expect, nay, hope that you are as singular as she. Come forward. Let me see you better. I admit my first visit… I had my reasons.”

My eyebrows jumped that she spoke with an open intimacy, going so far as to imply her behaviour that first time we met was an act—though to what end, I did not know. I walked towards her and knew we were assessing the other. Before me stood a middle-aged woman, whose beauty had faded attractively. She carried herself with an omega’s grace and floated rather than walked, which when paired with her sharp, direct eyes made her something out of the ordinary—she was dashing. Alphas would look twice at her on the street, but something more compelling than beauty held my attention. What she saw in me, I was less sure of. Surely not much beauty—at least not the type that most omegas dreamt of. Now that we were alone I saw her for who she was: she presented as a typical, flighty omega, but it was an artifice. Now in a more private setting, she was plain speaking. I saw how she and Beatrice could be friends. Regardless of these duelling personas, my impression that she was crafty proved accurate. She as good as proved it by coming here knowing my aunt was out. And then there was the business of announcing she knew Beatrice, was on familiar terms with her.

“You pulled off the act quite well,” she murmured so low that I almost did not catch her words.

Denial was all that I could do.

“No, child. Fear not. I am sure you have your reasons to dress as an alpha—pretend to be your sister Iris. But it is a dangerous game. Especially if you are living here where people will visit and know you. Though you are not out…”

“I am aware of the risks,” I told her, not quite believing that she believed me. “My reasons are noble. Unlike you, who wishes to match Orley with Lady Clare despite knowing her intentions never to remarry.”

“Orley? Are you so familiar with the duke?” she questioned. I flushed. No secretary addressed their employer—especially a duke—in such an informal manner. A slip of the tongue, I told myself. Nothing more.

“I am his secretary.”

The older woman frowned and led me to the window.

“What do you see outside?” She asked. I shook my head not understanding. “Look. What do you see.”

I looked. “Betas, a few alphas.”

“What else?”

“What else?” I frowned. “Carriages, horses, houses. The rain,” I smiled as the pavement began to darken with fat drops.

“And who owns it?” she pressed

“Alphas.”

“And do you see any unaccompanied omegas?”

“Of course not!” I scoffed. “They do not let us—“

“Yet you wander the streets in your disguise without fear. Your world has been one of privilege. You have been taught more than most omegas. More than most alphas and betas too. For some reason, you have decided to dress as your twin and go out into the world. Risking everything, I might add. Yet when you looked at me, here in the perfect safety of your uncle’s house and with an omega, you hesitated. When we first met your guard was up. Why is that?”

“You didn’t want me to see the injustice in the fact that as an omega I cannot go about my life like one of them?” I asked, confused.

“You know all that. Have been raised with your eyes open to injustice. But do you know why you are afraid to be an omega?”

“I’m not—“ I snapped my mouth shut as I remembered how desperately I had wished for an omega to talk with, air my concerns, and ask for advice. “I… At home, I do not know many strange omegas. And our neighbours in Hertfordshire rarely acknowledge us because of our family’s reputation.”

“Do you respect omegas who are less educated than you?” she asked.

My cheeks heated in embarrassment. I would have never aired such thoughts out loud, but the memory of how I so easily dismissed my aunt and her friends, even Mrs Markham when we first met, spoke louder than I had ever expected.

“You have never been confronted by your own prejudices. Tell me. Have you spent more time in the company of alphas or omegas since your arrival in London?”

“Alphas,” I admitted. “I’m not out in society. I’ve not been presented. Any omegas I meet are here when I am with my aunt, and she is quiet.”

Her lips thinned and her face folded into a frown. I looked away, back to the street, which had mostly cleared because of the now steady rain.

“I would like to offer you my help,” the older omega said. “Your aunt is well-meaning, but I fear she cannot give you the guidance that perhaps you need. I offer my help as a friend to your sister. I can prepare you to go out in society in your natural dynamic. You needs must learn how to be an omega.”

“Mrs Markham… I do not care to be a good omega. Or a good alpha, for that matter! I am nothing but who I am and I take pride in that.”

“The world does not take pride in dynamics acting out of turn.”

“Dammit. Why!” I bit my lip, embarrassed at my outburst. She claimed some friendship through my eldest sister. Her quick eye, her experience in the world made me certain that if there was an omega I could open up to, she could be the one. Yet Mrs Markham had purposefully provoked me to respond by talking about the duke’s plans as if he were uncaring, which I now knew to be untrue...

“He is going to marry her with no intention of taking her as a mate. But I understand his reasons,” I decided to see what her response would be to my position. “They are honourable. He is honourable.”

“Is that all?” she gave me an ironic smile.

“Could there be another reason?” I narrowed my eyes. A stab of uncertainty cut through me. Was I revealing too much and to a near stranger?

“Perhaps.”

“Or not.” I allowed the bite to enter my voice. I would not be played the fool by her.  “You were the one who raised the issue, madam.”

“We both want the countess taken care of,” she sighed. “I recommended her to the duke. Perhaps I was hasty in doing so… I meant it for the best.”

“I have every intention of helping the countess. And convincing the duke to give his support to the Omega Property Rights Act. That is the reason I entered his employ.” I kept my eyes focussed on her face. I caught the flash of surprise when I revealed my motivation for approaching the duke. “I dressed as an alpha, because he would not meet me as an omega.”

“And how do you intend to help the countess while you are persuading him of your politics?”

“I haven’t thought of a solution,” I lied. “Perhaps I will encourage her to consider his proposal. I can go as myself.”

Mrs Markham threw back her head and laughed. “So lie to him and pray that your plan will just emerge? You are a greater fool than your sisters combined, and believe me when I say that they are fools of the highest order.”

“I am not a fool!”

“Why not seduce him as yourself? He is quite a catch,” she smirked. I nearly rolled my eyes at her absurd understatement.

“I have no plan to marry or mate him. He is… I am his secretary.” The words were no sooner out of my mouth than I saw an image of the duke as he looked at me when I was myself.

“Heavens save me from alphas and omegas both,” she shook her head.

I fiddled with the collar of my dress. “You don’t understand…”

“I understand well enough. Certainly well enough to know anything I say shall only strengthen your resolve to go along with this harebrained idea.”

“Will you help me to woo Lady Clare for him?” I asked.

“Marrying Lady Clare to the Duke of Orley? After what I have learnt today? No, I cannot support that match. Both of them would be miserable. I would like you to sit for me, though. I’ve a mind to catch your portrait before the world knows your face.”

Not help me?Oh, I wanted to scream. I could not understand how her mind worked! “Who are you? There is something illogical about how you jump from here to there with no—“

“I want to be your friend. And help you in any way I can… I couldn’t help Beatrice,” she said as if that explained everything. The clock chimed the hour. “I must be off. But fear not. Consider the matter of whether you need my help or not. Come visit me Thursday next.”

* * *

The next day was a bitterly cold Saturday, but somehow I convinced my aunt to take me along with her to sit with the countess. My aunt had insisted I wear a yellow silk that made me look anaemic, but if that was the price to be granted a meeting with the Countess of Kellingham, so be it.

That Lady Clare would reside at Kellingham House for the entirety of her period of mourning was a boon for her. That the grand residence was directly across from Orley House, courted disaster. If His Grace the Duke of Orley, Marquess of Darenth, Viscount Mote (and many more titles I’d yet to memorise) saw me, chose to greet me, thinking I was Iris, only for my aunt or another member of our acquaintance to contradict him… What then? My lie would be exposed and in the most horridly public manner, embarrassing all, but most especially that proud alpha I’d come to admire so much. I had not appreciated the dangers of visiting the countess when the duke could easily see me in dresses and assume that I was Iris in disguise. But it would be necessary, and surely he would not forever be on the lookout to see who was coming and going. Besides, the square was large enough that he would not know if it was me or merely another nameless omega. It gave me a headache to consider all the possibilities. I’d reached no conclusion when the butler opened the drawing room door and announced us.

“Mrs Florey and Miss Hartwell, your ladyship.”

The countess was a young woman, not quite three and twenty, with fair hair and rich brown eyes, unattractively dulled and made unbeautiful by the dark circles beneath them. Still, her lady’s maid had done what she could, and the countess wore a little rouge on her lips and cheeks. The attempt at livening her complexion was ruined less by the Lady’s looks than by the fact she remained in deep mourning blacks despite the Earl having died nearly a twelvemonth before. If she had been in health, I knew she would be the example of omega perfection. And even in grief, her voice had that magical quality omegas cultivated from their first heat.

“My niece wished to meet you,” my aunt murmured. She’d not been pleased when I’d suggested making the call, and played with her handkerchief more than usual. When the countess did no more than offer a tentative smile, my aunt added. “She is the youngest of my dearly departed brother, Charles Hartwell. Perhaps you have heard of him?”

“I’m sure I have but cannot remember. What is the name again?” came the artless and frankly stupid response.

“Hartwell. My father was Charles Hartwell,” I tried to smile but couldn’t hold it for long. This was the omega the duke had chosen? That Mrs Markham had suggested? Other than her beauty, there was nothing to recommend her. Though I now recognised how my own prejudices coloured my opinion, could the duke, a man of substance and a deep thinker, really be happy with her? Did he desire a stupid bride? One who’d defer to him in all things? We argued daily. I admired how quickly and effortlessly he could produce precedents where some liberal bill had led to setbacks in omega rights. It grated, yet I found my own thoughts sharpening with each battle of wills we engaged in. But many alphas would prefer a stupid omega… He only wants her to breed and give him alpha children, I chided myself. No reason to feel annoyed with his taste, when his reasons for marrying the woman in front of me were to save her from the legal injustices omegas faced.

It took near an hour before I found the opportunity to sit with her and quickly realised how poorly I had judged her. While her understanding was not great, she blossomed in more private settings, making it a simple matter to direct the conversation to the possibility of her marrying again or looking for a mate. The precariousness of her position had been beaten into her, and she demonstrated a kind of quiet resolve when she spoke of finding her place in society. This strength flickered on and off as if sunlight through clouds. I determined to bolster this by increasing her belief that her life could have meaning, that she could find a mate despite the recent tragedy. If not a mate, a careful husband who would give her kindness and respect.

“The Earl married me because he thought I would give him an heir. Not because he loved me,” she said in a small voice. “My father, a beta… He…”

“Do not distress yourself,” I begged.

“He sold me,” she whispered, distress colour her voice and her scent turning bitter. “The Earl did not love me. Love is not necessary in marriages among the aristocracy...”

“And what would you think of an alpha who did love you?” I asked unsure how hard I should push the clearly distressed woman in front of me.

“An alpha? Oh? I mean. If the alpha was as kind as you have been… Not that you are an alpha,” she offered me a trembling smile. “But alphas are not kind.”

“They can be,” I gave in to instinct and reached for her hand. “My Mama and sister are kind. I… my sister works for the duke of Orley and says he is the best of alphas.”

“Oh,” tears sparkled in her eyes. “Lord Clare… I will not speak ill of the dead. I am sure he did not mean to be unkind. I am weak and stupid. I did not give him an heir.”

“Was he unkind to you?” I asked softly. I moved closer and tipped her face towards mine. I felt so much older than her, which instead of making me feel strong, only made my heartache for the things she must have endured.

“He was so much older. And, I understood what an honour it was that he chose me to be his bride… But he… I think I must have disappointed him a great deal.”

“Olivia!” A sharp reprimanding bark came from the ancient beta companion who had been hired as her companion. “What are you doing in that corner? Come here.”

“Please,” she whispered to me. “Please don’t leave me. Come back. Please. I am so lonely.”

She held my hand until the very last minute before she rushed to the side of the vulture who watched me—no, watched her—with such hatred.

“What do you think you are doing?” a female alpha I hadn’t noticed before snapped at me. Standing I turned to look at the newcomer. She stood tall in her men’s clothing—only her status as an alpha allowed her that privilege without public censure. The stranger’s hair was almost white it was so pale. Then there was her figure, lean and muscled and proportioned so perfectly that I flushed. It was nothing like my reaction to the duke, but there was no denying the fact she was the kind of alpha omegas fought over. A flash of jealousy had me gritting my teeth. In the years since I had presented as an omega, I had come to better understand the drawbacks of my dynamic. The nurturing and supportive home life, stripped away to the cold judgement of society and the restrictions of the nation’s laws. In my few weeks as an alpha, men and women had not given my hurried stride or open manners a second glance. I’d been myself, free of judgement or censure. Even our beta king would not be granted the same instinctual respect and deference as this young alpha.

“I was being friendly. I thought Lady Clare wasn’t permitting any alphas…” I gave a false smile.

“My father is the vicar at Kellingham. I am Caroline Wilson. I’ve known Olivia—Lady Clare all my life. She is mine to protect.”

“Are you staking your claim?” I sneered. How I wanted to strangle every alpha for their unrepentant arrogance when talking about omegas.

“If you were an alpha, I’d call you out for taking that tone with me,” the words weren’t even laced with threat. Just a statement of fact that had my eyes pricking with tears of frustration.

“I’ll take my leave,” I bit out and walked to where my aunt sat with a round male omega. Neither of them looked very happy with the seating arrangement, so I was not surprised when my aunt bounced up and told me she thought it time for us to leave. I was grateful too. But one last glance at the widow, and I knew I could not leave her to this suffocating sadness forced upon her.