time she’d been struck with one. But the blow never fell. Instead, Monsieur Dumont tumbled backward, propelled by the violent blow struck by Lord Montgomery.
“Get out,” the earl growled. “And if you ever darken my door again, so help me, you will not live to regret it.”
“My lord,” the man began, all but groveling, “This is the only way a child can learn. They must fear consequences for misbehavior!”
“Misbehavior? This child has never played an instrument before in her life!” Callie shouted. “And you feel that warrants you striking her every time she plays a wrong chord? You are worse than despicable! I do not possess the vocabulary to adequately describe you!”
“Get out,” the earl repeated. “If I look at you for a moment longer, I will not wait until you darken my door again.”
Monsieur Dumont scrambled to his feet. He didn’t bother to gather his items, but left them as he scurried from the house.
Callie immediately went to the pianoforte and began unbuckling the heavy straps that held the board to Claudia’s arms. Once she’d managed to free the restraints from the terrible device, Callie tossed it aside and hugged the little girl to her. “I would never have let him hurt you if I’d known!”
“It’s my fault.”
Callie looked back to see the earl standing there, his face dark with guilt and anger, much of it self-directed. “It is not your fault. It is mine.”
He shook his head. “The children are my responsibility, Miss St. James. Anything that befalls them is my responsibility, as well.”
Rubbing her hand soothingly over Claudia’s back while the child leaned against her, Callie stated as reasonably as possible, “I daresay when he was interviewed that Monsieur Dumont never stated that beating children was part of his teaching methods.” The words weren’t just absolution for him but for herself, as well. No one knew better than she did the kind of wickedness men such as Dumont, men with power and no conscience, could indulge in.
“Of course, he didn’t… but I didn’t like him from the start and I should have trusted my judgment.”
“Not liking someone is hardly grounds for thinking they are the devil incarnate,” she said. “He is a monster and monsters always hide their faces until they have an opportunity to inflict pain on someone weaker and less powerful than they are.”
Something in her tone must have given away that she was speaking from experience. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. Their gazes locked. She could see the questions in his expression, but she had no intention of answering them. Not today and likely not ever. There were parts of her story, of all the things she’d endured before Effie had taken her in, that she would not share with anyone.
“Where did he strike you?” Callie asked, turning her attention back to Claudia. The earl needed comfort, of course, but he was not alone in that. It was clear that the earl needed reassurance, as well. But for the moment, she had to focus on the child.
Claudia held up her hands. Her palms were blood red and there were other welts across the backs of her hands and her knuckles.
“You’re to go to the kitchen and let the cook put something on them for you. She’ll have a salve that will make them feel better and while you’re there, perhaps she can give you a cup of hot chocolate? Would you like that?” Callie asked.
Claudia nodded but still wasn’t talking. It was obvious that the little girl was struggling not to cry, not to show how much pain she was in and how frightened she must have been. Claudia hadn’t even made it to the door when the new housekeeper, Mrs. Marler, rushed forward, wrapped her arm around the little girl’s shoulders and whisked her toward the kitchen.
When the servants had gone, amid lots of whispers and head shaking, Callie looked back at the earl. He had crossed the room and was standing at the window, staring out at the street beyond. His hands were on his hips and he’d ducked his head. But it wasn’t defeat. She knew that. It was temper. He was furious with Monsieur Dumont, with himself, and quite possibly with her. She had insisted, after all, that Claudia needed music lessons.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said softly.
“Wasn’t it? I took an instant dislike to the man, but I hired him anyway… because it was expedient. Because I wouldn’t have to spend any further time looking for