Chapter 20
The first day of tutoring young Benjamin finally arrived. I had been unable to meet him on the day I signed the contract, as Baron Fondy had conveniently forgotten to inform his wife of the arrangement, and she had whisked the boy away on an outing. Truly, communication in noble households could rival that of a barnyard.
The room prepared for our lessons was a modest study. Not grand, but certainly not lacking in comfort. Across the table sat Benjamin, a seven-year-old with the demeanor of someone who had just lost their favorite toy. His shoulders slumped, his expression vacant, as though his very soul had fled the premises.
"What is wrong, dear?"
"Jim isn't here," he sighed.
"And who is Jim?"
"My slave."
Ah, yes. Nobles and their penchant for owning people. Blasted practices of the aristocracy. Still, I was working, and professionalism was required. So, I softened my voice and said, "You will see him soon, after your lesson."
"No," Benjamin said firmly, his face set in defiance. "I want him to learn with me. The last few tutors wouldn't let him come in when I had lessons either. I just don't understand why all of you do that. It is so mean." Then, without a shred of hesitation, he looked me squarely in the eye and declared, "You are heartless."
I blinked, utterly taken aback. Did this small, spoiled brat just call me heartless? Granted, it may not have been the wildest accusation ever made against me, but how dare he? Today was my very first day here, and he didn't even know me! What kind of manners, or lack thereof, was this child being raised with?
I leaned back in my chair, feigning a calm I did not feel. "You cannot accuse someone without evidence, Young Lord."
"The evidence is right here," he declared, throwing his arms wide and looking at me as though I were the dimmest creature alive. "Look around the room. It is just us two because you forbade Jim from coming in."
"And when did you hear me declare that he was not allowed in?!" I snapped.
"How dare you raise your voice at me?" he shot back, his chest puffing up in righteous indignation.
For a fleeting moment, I pictured Baron Fondy storming into the room, outraged at my supposed cruelty, shoving my hard-earned silvers back into his pocket, and dismissing me from his employ. The vision was vivid enough to make my palms sweat.
I coughed delicately to compose myself, clearing my throat as though the outburst had been a mere slip. "Apologies, Young Lord," I said in my gentlest voice. "I had intended to say more, but you interrupted me," I added with a serene smile. A lie, of course, but one delivered with impeccable grace.
Benjamin's eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced, but I pressed on before he could argue further. "Bring him in. I shall teach the both of you together."
His eyes widened with disbelief. "Are you certain?"
"Quite."
Without another word, he bolted from the room like a hound after a hare. Moments later, he returned, triumphantly dragging in a boy who must have been Jim. It turned out the poor child had been waiting just outside the door.
Hand in hand, Benjamin beamed with uncontainable joy as he dragged the visibly anxious Jim into the study. "Mrs. Woodstone said you can learn with me!" he proclaimed, his face alight with triumph as he practically shoved Jim into the chair beside him. "You can finally learn!"
Watching them, I was momentarily transported back to those days when Cecilia and I were forced to endure lessons together. Though, in our case, our instructors possessed all the warmth of a winter frost and the patience of a hungry lion. Truly, these two had no idea how fortunate they were to have me. Granted, I may not be the embodiment of benevolence, but at least I did not discriminate against slaves or raise my hand against children. My poor Cecilia had suffered the sting of both.
Thus, our lessons commenced. To my mild surprise, Benjamin proved to be quite the eager tutor, offering explanations and guidance to Jim whenever confusion clouded his eyes. Despite already knowing the basics, Benjamin displayed a patience I scarcely possessed, happily revisiting rudimentary concepts for Jim's sake.
To both Benjamin's and my astonishment, Jim absorbed knowledge at a pace that would make even the most accomplished scholars envious. This intelligent, enslaved boy was destined, I imagined, to one day mastermind a grand revenge against the Fondy family for keeping him in chains. And, quietly, I rooted for him from the sidelines.
In what seemed like no time at all, a few weeks later, Jim had not only caught up to Benjamin's level but began surpassing him in certain subjects.