This was Jason’s day off, and Abigail knew he would be returning soon from the markets, where he had gone with his friends at their insistence. He had promised to share the midday meal with her, though, so she expected it when she heard the sounds of his approach. What she did not expect was the sound of someone else’s with his.
By the time she managed to stand to go investigate whom he had brought him with him, Jason had appeared in the doorway to the room, hand-in-hand with a small boy. Abigail’s brows flew up of their own accord, and her eyes shifted from the beautiful, terrified child to the man who stood before her smiling.
The boy could not be more than six. His eyes were wide, flecked with gold, his hair burnished curls that fell over his forehead. His features were remarkable, finely chiseled and arranged, though he looked as though he had not had a decent meal in quite a while. He stared up at her, soulful and forlorn.
Abigail tore her gaze away from the child and focused it on her husband.
“His name is Samuel,” Jason said by means of introduction. “I just purchased him. I thought we would need the extra help when the baby comes.”
Abigail replied in Latin because she knew the boy would not understand her. “Jason, we do not need a slave.”
Jason kept his countenance neutral and his words in Latin. “His mother was desperate, my love. She would have sold him as a catamite to another if I had not stepped in.”
Her questions turned to sympathy, softening into pride for her husband. When had he become so gentle and considerate?
The boy spoke in Hebrew, drawing their attention back to him. “I am strong. I will work hard.”
Abigail lowered herself slowly to her knees so she was on a level with him. His eyes, so serious and intense, reminded her of herself as a child, when she was sold by her supposed family. She tried to keep her face serious, though she wanted to smile. She suspected, however, that this tiny child would be wary of mercy.
“Do you speak Greek?” she inquired in her native tongue.
“Yes,” he replied in the language he spoke of.
“And have you begun your lessons on the Law?”
Samuel hesitated. “I have learned of Passover, and the commandments.”
Abigail nodded solemnly. “It is a start. You will be expected to study with me, Samuel. I will not have an uneducated boy in my house. You will have to learn how to read and write, in both Hebrew and Greek, and then we will have lessons on Latin as well.”
Samuel seemed to fluctuate between confusion and acceptance. “My mother said I would be a slave, that I must do as my masters bade me in all things.”
She smiled. “Well, I bid that you learn.”
He hesitated a heartbeat more, then nodded.
Her heart broke. It had not been so long ago when she had been in his place, a waif of a child with too much knowledge of the cruelties of the world and not enough faith in its goodness. A tear slipped from her eye, and she put her small hand on his smaller shoulder. “Samuel, you will be well taken care of. I am glad you have come.”
Samuel solemnly reached out and wiped away her tear. “Have I made you cry, Mistress?”
“No.” It was true enough. Nothing he had done, nothing he had any control over elicited her tears. It was his situation, her own, and the kindness this house offered. It was unbelievable to her that she had come full circle, that there was now someone who called her what she still tried to call Ester.
Seeing that his eyes had fallen to her abdomen, she took his hand and put it where the baby was moving, watching the wonder that moved over his face. “There is a babe in there, Samuel. He will be born soon, in just a few weeks. Have you ever been around a baby?”
Samuel shook his head, curls bouncing.
Abigail smiled. “Neither have I. But you will aid me, will you not? I may need you to help me care for him. I have heard it said,” she continued, pitching her voice down in conspiracy, “that every new child needs someone to be his older brother. Can you do that, Samuel?”
Samuel, eyes wide with the seriousness of his promise, nodded once more. Then paused. His golden brows drew together. “What will I have to do?”
Abigail’s smile only grew. “Well, you may have to sit beside him sometimes and make sure he stays where he needs to. Perhaps sing to him. And as he gets older, he will need to know how to play games.”
The little boy studied her intently. “I will do all I can to help you, Mistress.”
“I believe you will, Samuel.” She brushed the curls from his forehead, though they fell onto it again the instant her fingers moved away. She smiled at the errant locks, wondering how any mother could part with such a child. “Come, I shall show you to your room.”
Getting up proved to be more of a challenge than going down, however, and Jason ended up practically lifting her from the floor. She rewarded him with a sweet smile, trying to let him know he had done the right thing in bringing the boy home. She held out her hand to Samuel, who put his in hers with perfect trust.