Max placed the handbell back on the desk. “Victor, do you remember the location of the village where Bennett once lived?”

“Bennett, m’lord?”

Max pointed at Bennett. “Her.”

“Oh, yes, m’lord.”

“Right,” Max said, shooting a quick look at Bennett. “Tomorrow, Victor, I want a wagon loaded with fresh fruit and vegetables and take one of our cattle and two of our pigs as well. Travel to that village when the sun goes down and find the children of Bennett and Warrick, son of Archer. I’m sure somebody took them in. You are to learn the name of that family and then give them the produce and livestock. When they question your motive, tell them they now have a benefactor, and as long as the children of Warrick and Bennett are treated well, deliveries such as this will occur twice a year. Do you understand?”

“Um…y-yes, m’lord.”

“Then be on your way.”

“Yes, m’lord.”

As soon as Victor left, Max peered at Bennett. “Satisfied?”

Bennett wiped the tears in her eyes away with the cuff of her shirt. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Well,” Max said, rubbing his hands together. “Now that that’s settled, where would you like to begin?”

“You’re leaving that up to me?”

“My dear Bennett, in the years to come, I have every intention of driving your curriculum…um…your studies in many directions. I think it only fair I allow you to choose the first.”

Bennett took her time in answering, looking around the study as she did. “I’d like…I’d like to learn how to read.”

Max’s smile reached his ears. “Excellent choice, and with reading comes writing.” Max grabbed the handbell and shook it once, the loud clang bringing another grimace to his face. As Max stood to refresh his brandy, Victor came into the room looking slightly bedraggled from his continual jaunts up and down the stairs.

“Yes, m’lord?”

“Victor, I’m going to need all the parchment you can find, and we’ll require quills and ink as well.”

“Yes, m’lord.”

Max looked at the brandy in his pewter goblet. “And Victor,” he said, turning around.

“Yes, m’lord?”

“Bring us a pitcher of water fresh from the well, too. The taste for brandy is an acquired one, it seems.”

***

In a matter of days, Bennett’s situation began to change. They moved her from her cell in the dungeon to a small antechamber off the kitchen. Instead of sleeping on a dirt floor, she now had a straw mattress, and while its thickness was scant, its comfort was not.