A Clockwork Heart by Liesel Schwarz Read Free Book Online

frowned.
    â€œIt’s just that I never considered the possibility of getting married and having my own home, let alone all this.” She gestured at the opulence of the room around her. “It’s so very different from how I had thought I would end up in life.” The words were coming out all wrong and she watched the hurt spread across his face as she said them.
    â€œI’m sorry you feel that way.” He lifted the second glove, his touch suddenly perfunctory and matter-of-fact.
    â€œThat’s not what I meant,” she said, trying to mend the damage she had done.
    He looked away. “This isn’t enough for you, is it?” He finished buttoning the second glove. “What more do I need to do, Elle? Tell me.”
    â€œNothing, Hugh. I want to be here and be your wife, but I also want to fly and be my own woman. Is it so hard to understand that I need both things in life to be happy?”
    He ran an exasperated hand over his face.
    Elle stood and put her hand on his arm. “Thank you for the jewels. They are beautiful and I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I don’t think I am expressing things quite they way I mean. And I certainly don’t want to argue with you and spoil our evening, I just want you to understand.”
    He pressed his lips together. “Fair enough. Let’s not argue then. Lady Mandeville and her daughters are fine gossips and the last thing we want is for them to start spreading rumors.” He gave her a tight little smile and offered his arm. “Shall we?”
    She picked up her fur-trimmed opera cape and took his arm. “Monsieur Puccini’s La Bohème awaits.”
    The light from the Royal Opera House spilled out of the brightly lit windows and onto the cobbled street below, illuminating the evening rain and fog until the air looked like a fine sheet of spangle.
    The streets around Covent Garden were congested with carriages and steam cars attempting to deposit their occupants as close to the entrance as possible.
    Footmen with large umbrellas stepped onto the cobbles to help glittering ladies in evening gowns and furs negotiate the puddles. Their evening dresses stood out like exotic pastel-shaded flowers in the gloom around them. London society had come out in full force to see Nellie Melba, the world’s greatest soprano, perform Monsieur Puccini’s exquisite work.
    â€œGood heavens, how do you think she manages to breathe between sentences?” Elle whispered to Marsh below the relentless chatter of Lady Mandeville and her daughters as they made their way through the gold trim and red velvet of the grand foyer. Lady Mandeville was a rotund woman in her late forties. Her two daughters, despite valiant corsetry, looked to be heading the same way. And although Elle was about the same age as the Mandeville girls, she found it very difficult to maintain a conversation with them. Their minds were filled with the type of feminine frippery and frivolity that Elle hated. They were also quite clearly in complete awe and envy at the fact that she was married to London’s former most eligible bachelor. To make matters worse, they swooned and giggled each time Marsh paid them the slightest bit of attention.
    Above them, huge crystal chandeliers shimmered brightly. The light caught and echoed in the glitter of diamonds and other precious gems on the people below.
    â€œI honestly don’t know,” Marsh murmured back. “I think your father is starting to regret his decision to join us.” They both watched the professor with amusement as he tried to stem the tidal wave of verbosity aimed at him.
    â€œJust look at the diamonds on the duchess,” Miss Mandeville the elder whispered to Elle.
    Elle looked over to where she was indicating.
    â€œPaste,” she whispered back. Elle was an expert at spotting costume jewelry.
    â€œAre you sure?” Miss Mandeville looked scandalized.
    â€œAlmost as sure as