Chapter 60: First lesson
The next day was to be an important and significant event in Ruby’s life — her first lesson with her new tutor, Mr. Christian Lockwood.
This day was special for me, because I had been waiting for this moment for a long time, anticipating it with undisguised interest and excitement.
As I prepared for it, I felt a mixture of emotions: on the one hand, joy and hope that everything would go well, and on the other, a slight excitement and anxiety that did not disappear even after long nights of reflection.
Thoughts about how their lesson with Ruby would go occupied every corner of my mind.
I understood that the first step is always the most difficult.
I knew in advance that this day would be special, and, to be honest, I couldn’t get rid of the slight excitement that had settled inside me since the morning. This feeling was both pleasant and disturbing, like the anticipation of something important and fateful.
Excitement can sometimes be pleasant: it awakens the consciousness and prepares you for important events. But at the same time, I felt a slight uncertainty, anxiety about Ruby’s fate, about how her acquaintance with Mr. Lockwood would go and how she would adapt to her new circumstances.
The night before, I tried to calm myself down, convincing myself that everything would definitely go smoothly and without problems, but despite all my efforts, a slight anxiety still lingered.
In the morning, I woke up earlier than usual, although I usually prefer to lie in bed longer. This was the first time this had happened in a long time, and it was a sign of how strong my excitement was.
Sitting in bed, I stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to understand where this anxiety was coming from. Various thoughts arose within me, and I asked myself: am I thinking too much?
Or maybe I’m just afraid of the changes that are inevitably approaching?
Perhaps I feel fear not so much for Ruby as for myself, for the fact that the changes may affect my life and our usual existence.
Sometimes it seemed to me that I was prone to excessive anxiety all the time, and it was at such moments that I wondered: do all parents experience the same feelings when their child enters a new stage of adulthood?
After all, entrusting the fate of your child to someone else is always a small test. It is a kind of test of faith, patience, and trust in people, especially when it comes to someone you trust, such as a mentor or teacher.
And although I was not Ruby’s mother, she was almost like a daughter to me. I felt fully responsible for her fate, her development, and her future.
Sometimes this feeling of responsibility weighed on me like a heavy burden, but at the same time it gave me the strength and determination to do everything possible for her well-being.
Nevertheless, I tried to convince myself that I was worrying for nothing. I knew Ruby well, her character and abilities, and I was sure that she would cope with the upcoming changes.
The girl was smart and curious, and most importantly, open to new knowledge and experiences.
Her eyes always sparkled with interest, and her smile could melt any heart.I believed that under the guidance of an experienced mentor, she would quickly adapt and begin to enjoy her studies, discovering new horizons for herself. This thought brought me some comfort and confidence.
Before Ruby left for her first class, we gathered together as usual for breakfast in the dining room.
Breakfast was not only a necessity for us, but also a part of our day, an opportunity to chat a little and prepare for the events ahead.
Despite the fact that today was an important day, the girl looked completely calm and even a little carefree.
She sat across from me, calmly eating her morning porridge with berries and showing no signs of excitement.
I involuntarily lingered on her a little longer than I should have, as if trying to catch some hint of anxiety, but Ruby was completely focused on her plate. This brought me unexpected relief: it seemed that I was the only one who was nervous.
I broke off a piece of crusty bread and spread cherry jam on it, enjoying the sweet taste and aroma. At that moment, I felt a pleasant warmth fill me, and how something as small as breakfast could be a source of calm before an important day.
Alas, the eggs and bacon didn’t turn out well this time: Nura, as usual, managed to burn them. So instead of my usual breakfast, I had to settle for sandwiches.
No, I really didn’t understand why I continued to keep such an incompetent maid on my estate.
Even though I had long had the opportunity to hire new servants, I couldn’t bring myself to fire Nura. More precisely, every time I looked into her big brown eyes, I felt as if I were about to throw a homeless cat out onto the street.
Yes, the only thing this girl was good at was playing on my pity.
And yet... I just sighed angrily again as I watched this clumsy creature arrange the plates of food on the table.
Deep down, I just hoped she wouldn’t break another porcelain cup this morning. It seemed to me that even minor household mishaps on a day like this could throw me off balance, so I tried to stay calm.
Meanwhile, since there wasn’t much time left before class started, I decided to turn to Ruby to cheer her up a little:
"Ruby, today is your first lesson. Try not to worry and don’t overdo it. For now, just get to know Mr. Lockwood better."
"Yes, Auntie," the girl smiled and nodded obediently.
"And if anything is unclear, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?"
"Of course, Auntie."
She said it with such confidence that I couldn’t help but smile back. Yes, it seemed that it was just my excessive anxiety after all. Her calmness and confidence were contagious, and I felt the tension gradually easing.
After we finished breakfast, it was time to go to class. I asked Edison to accompany Ruby to the classroom I had specially set up on the estate for their lessons.
Mr. Lockwood was due to arrive in just a few minutes, and the girl needed to arrive a little early to get ready and tune in to her studies.
"Have a good day, Ruby," I said, kissing her on the cheek, which was our usual ritual of support and affection. This small gesture was my way of conveying my care and confidence to her, even if words seemed insufficient.
"You too, Auntie!" the girl replied with a sincere smile and went to class.
After that, the girl and the butler left.
I sighed and stayed in the dining room for a while longer, finishing the rest of my breakfast and being alone with my thoughts.
Various scenarios ran through my head: What if Ruby doesn’t like her new teacher? What if she feels insecure? But I quickly dismissed these thoughts, trying to focus on the positive.
After that, I decided to return to my office and continue working. As usual, I had enough work to keep me busy until at least midday. Well, that’s what I was going to do, anticipating a not-too-exciting workday.
However, as soon as I sat down to review the first document, Edison knocked on my office door. I allowed him to enter.
"Have you already taken Ruby to the classroom?"
"Yes, ma’am," the butler nodded, "the young lady and Mr. Lockwood have already started their first lesson."
"Excellent," I allowed myself a sigh of relief.
I was sure that would be the end of the conversation and Edison would leave immediately. But to my surprise, the old man was in no hurry to leave.
Instead, he slowly approached my desk and paused slightly, as if gathering his thoughts.
"Hmm? Edison, is something wrong?" I raised an eyebrow.
He cleared his throat and, lowering his voice slightly, said:
"Ma’am, you received a letter this morning. I came to deliver it to you personally."
"A letter?" I asked in surprise.
The old man silently took a neatly sealed envelope from his inside pocket and placed it on the table in front of me. I looked down at the thick paper, feeling slightly puzzled and curious at the same time.
The sender’s name was familiar to me, and I froze for a second, feeling slightly puzzled:
"What? Enoch? Why did he suddenly decide to write to me?"
Frowning, I opened the envelope and began to read the letter. In fact, Enoch didn’t send me letters very often. To be more precise, in the last three years, I could only remember a couple of occasions when the heroine’s adoptive father had sent me correspondence.
Nevertheless, the first line immediately caught my attention.
"Lady Weinstein, I am writing to you about Angela..."