Free The Officer's Little Rebel by Ava Sinclair Page A

clapping the tutor on the back. “And, of course, Mr. Sutton will dine with us on the days he comes to teach you.”
    “You’re too kind,” the tutor said.
    “Oh, I insist,” Royce said. “You’re polishing my favorite jewel. It’s the least I can do.”
    The two left then and Imogen watched as Mr. Sutton went through the bag he brought. She was delighted when he produced a slate and some chalk, and even more delighted when he handed her the first book she’d ever owned.
    “This is a primer,” he said. “You’ll learn your letters and then go on to the foundations of reading. You’ll learn to write your letters, too.”
    Next he produced an abacus. “This will help you learn to add and subtract.”
    There would be Latin, too, as well as what Mr. Sutton called ‘moral education.’
    “It’s rather unusual to meet a young lady in such a house just starting her formal education,” he said.
    “I was not raised here,” Imogen said, unsure about how much to offer. “And I did not have the benefit where I came from.”
    “Well, you are a lucky girl to find yourself in the care of a man like Major Kingsley. They say he’s a war hero, you know.” Mr. Sutton settled Imogen at a nearby table as he spoke, laying the open book in front of her.
    “Yes,” she said. “He doesn’t talk much about it, though. I only know that it must have been quite terrible, the things he saw. He lost a man who’d saved him, a young man named Robert.” She paused. “The major is a good and caring man.”
    The tutor smiled kindly. “No doubt that he is. Kindness is such a commodity; my wife and I tell our two daughters that on a daily basis. But enough of this. Let us begin.”
    The lesson went smoothly. By the end of it, Imogen had memorized and written five letters of the alphabet to Mr. Sutton’s satisfaction. He made the lesson enjoyable with his patience and offered little jokes to amuse her. At the end of it, he taught her how to cut out a daisy chain of dolls, which delighted her.
    Dinner that evening was goose with chestnuts, fall greens, turnips, and trifle. Imogen listened as her papa, Miss Quinn, and Mr. Sutton spoke of the goings-on in London.
    “Are you a family man?” Miss Quinn asked after a bit.
    “No,” the tutor said. “I’m a bachelor, for now, but I hope to settle down one day if I can find a wife to abide me.”
    Imogen, who’d been content to let the others talk, now spoke up.
    “A bachelor? Mr. Sutton, you said you have a wife and children.”
    The tutor looked at her from across the table and then gave a laugh. “No, dear, I did not.” He began to put a forkful of goose in his mouth when she spoke up again.
    “But sir, you did,” Imogen persisted. “You said you have two daughters, and said you teach them the value of kindness.”
    The smile faded. “You’re mistaken, young lady.” His tone was less than patient now.
    “You likely misheard, dear,” Nanny Quinn said.
    “But I did not!” Imogen found herself growing frustrated. It was true that she was not learned, but she was a quick study and had a good memory. While working at the inn, she’d always remembered what the patrons wanted, and hardly ever got their requests wrong.
    “Imogen.” Major Kingsley said her name softly, but with an air of authority that got her attention. “If the man says you are mistaken, then you are. It hardly matters, anyway.”
    “I suppose not.” Imogen smoothed the napkin in her lap. “I apologize, Mr. Sutton.”
    “It’s hardly worth the fuss,” he said. “You absorbed a lot today. And this error is quite excusable, given that it’s not on the books.”
    This comment brought laughter from Nanny Quinn and Royce, who quickly steered the conversation on to other topics. Imogen, however, sat staring at her plate, vexed now for reasons she could not quite understand.
    “May I be excused?” she asked a moment later, and Nanny Quinn nodded.
    Imogen was glad to get away from the table. It was