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She tried to think what to do. The only other recourse was to apply to Matthew Bering, Viscount Byford, for a loan. "Oh, God, I cannot," she said.
"Cannot what, my dear?"
Omega jerked her hands away from her face and opened her eyes. Matthew was standing quietly in the doorway. He was dressed carefully in the elegance of a country gentleman again, stock neatly tied, coat smoothed across his shoulders without a wrinkle. He walked slowly to the other end of the table and sat down. "Cannot what?" he asked again when she did not seem disposed to reply.
There are moments when only the truth will do. "I cannot ask you for a loan to quit this place, Matthew," she answered. "And I dare not tell Alpha my whereabouts, for he would surely challenge you to a duel. I hardly need scruple to describe the outcome of that to you, sir."
Matthew considered her predicament. "If you cannot apply to me to bring you up to scratch, and you don't want to risk Alpha's health, whatever will you do?"
He was teasing her. There was a twinkle in his eye as he leaned back in the chair and regarded her. He was playing with her emotions like a musician with an instrument. How dare he? She rose to her feet slowly, horrified by the intensity of her rage. Had there been a pistol within easy reach, she would have shot him.
He saw the anger in her face. The twinkle left his eye and he sat up straight again. "That was unthinkable of me," he said. "I have no business being unkind to you." He waited a moment. "Oh, say something, Omega!"
She could think of nothing that would do justice to her feelings. There weren't enough words in the language. She could only shake her head and hurry to the door, desperate to get belowstairs again.
There was another look in Matthew Bering's eye that she couldn't identify. A chill settled around her heart. She got to the door first and stepped into the hall in time to narrowly avoid Twinings, who was hurrying to the front door.
Hugh had returned. Thank God. That would be sufficient diversion to allow an escape. Besides, there was much to do belowstairs. Omega Chartley chose discretion over valor, and fled to the safety of the servants' hall.
