Read Heart of Brass for Free Online

safe, Arden?”
    Arden adjusted a pair of driving goggles over her eyes, positioning them so the leather cups fitted comfortably against her face. “Of course it is! You don’t mean to suggest I would ever put you in danger?” She softened her words with a smile.
    Her friend didn’t look convinced, or very contrite. “Not knowingly, of course not.” She peered nervously over the side as she lowered the veil of her hat over her face.
    Grinning, Arden glanced over her shoulder at Annie, who was perched on the small seat in the back of the carriage, bonnet tied securely under her pointed chin. “You snug and secure back there, dear?”
    “I am, ma’am,” the maid replied eagerly. How fortunate Arden was to have an employee with such a spirit of adventure.
    “Excellent. We’re off!” She released the break, adjusted the accelerator lever and wrapped gloved fingers around the steering wheel. The carriage jerked into motion, eliciting a small squeak from Hannah and a burst of laughter from Arden.
    In the country, or late at night when city streets weren’t so terribly congested, she would drive fast—the carriage could reach speeds in the vicinity of 35–40 miles per hour. That wasn’t possible now, not with the streets thick with carriages and horses. Once they left Mayfair it would be even worse, with omnibuses, bicycles and pedestrians added to the throng.
    The new elevated train system would help with congestion and with the unfortunate mess that was the subterranean train system. Who would want to chug through the foul-smelling darkness of belowground when you could zip about above it all? It would be like riding a low-flying dirigible through the city.
    Personal flyers—that’s what the people of England needed. That would truly be exhilarating. Imagine buzzing around town on an ornothopter! Perhaps she would work on a design for such a contraption.
    On the way to Madame Cherie’s Oxford Street location, they passed support structures for the elevated rail system. Arden turned her head to glance at Hannah. “Extraordinary, aren’t they?” The base was big enough for two carriages to drive through side by side, and at least four stories high. There would be hundreds of these bases all over the city, each supporting a large section of track.
    “Yes,” her friend agreed, not looking. Her knuckles were white on her bonnet ribbons and the side of the vehicle, hanging on to both as though her life depended upon it. “A tad fast for my liking, however.”
    Arden smiled and turned her attention back to the street, turning the wheel to avoid a dog that ran toward them barking like mad, tail wagging. Hannah gasped beside her.
    By the time they reached the pretty little storefront of Madame Cherie’s Maison de Couture , Hannah was positively stiff and Arden was having difficulty hiding her annoyance behind amusement. Honestly, did her friend have to be so distrusting as to think she would allow her to come to any harm?
    But Hannah had been raised in a sheltered environment, much different from Arden’s own upbringing in a house ruled by a man dedicated to creating the impossible and a woman determined to make certain her child was fearless. Hannah had been raised to be a proper lady—afraid of most of the world and its wonders—while Arden had been tossed into that world with all the hope and excitement of a penny dropped into a wishing well. It was no wonder they gravitated toward each other in school—each so fascinating to the other despite their difference in class. Of course, once Arden married Luke, class ceased to matter.
    “Come inside, dear,” she cajoled, taking one of Hannah’s stiff hands in her own. “A little shopping will soothe your nerves.”
    Hannah obeyed, and by the time they entered the pleasantly warm interior of the shop with its swaths of beautiful fabric and air that smelled faintly of perfume, some of the color had started to return to the dark-haired woman’s cheeks.
    They