Free Murder in the Paperback Parlor by Ellery Adams Page A

this brigand become the hero Lady Cecelia secretly desires? Could there be more to him than avarice and villainy? Is he really a thief or is he a member of the nobility in disguise? That’s for you to decide, dear readers. And now, I give you
The Lady and the Highwayman
!”
    The image of a book cover filled the screen. Jane recognizedLady Cecelia Fitzroy—a dark-haired beauty in a torn ivory gown—gazing up at a large and powerful-looking man with a close-cropped beard and stunning blue eyes. He was dressed in black breeches and a black coat and held a shiny dagger in his hand. The tip of its blade hovered seductively over the last scrap of fabric holding Lady Cecelia’s gown in place. The audience responded with favorable gasps of delight, followed by cheers of approval.
    â€œOne of you will choose the highwayman’s name,” Georgia said, clearly pleased by the response to her cover. “As long as it fits the era, of course.”
    The bidding war was fast and furious. Jane was astounded by how much the women were willing to pay to name a fictional character, but was thrilled that the money would go to such a worthy cause.
    After several minutes, the price escalated to a shockingly high amount. There were only a pair of bidders duking it out and one of them was Mrs. Pratt. Concerned that Mrs. Pratt was being reckless with her savings, Jane shot Eloise a worried glance, but Eloise responded with a thumbs-up. The rest of the Cover Girls were openly egging Mrs. Pratt on. Jane even heard them chanting, “Eugenia! Eugenia!”
    Their rallying cries notwithstanding, Mrs. Pratt could not compete with the other bidder. The lady wore a diamond necklace that was probably worth more than the entire contents of Jane’s house and simply refused to back down. In the end, Mrs. Pratt had to lower her bid card in defeat.
    Jane felt sorry for her friend and fervently hoped that her dashed spirits would be restored by Rosamund York’s announcement. Rosamund accepted the microphone from Georgia and wasted no time informing the crowd that she had advanced reader copies of
Eros Steals the Bride
to give to anyone willing to donate a minimum of twenty-five dollars to the literacy fund. The response from the audience was deafening. And when Rosamond’s book cover, featuring a half-naked man with a chiseled torso and a wry grin appeared onscreen, the noise increased to the point where Jane feared that the theater’s crystal chandeliers would shatter.
    Sinclair reclaimed the microphone and tried to convince the women to settle down. When they’d finally stopped screaming and clapping, he said, “Please form an orderly line in front of the desk to my right, beginning with the first row. Mr. Lachlan will accept your donation and—”
    Suddenly, a woman bolted from her chair in the middle of the room and started running up the center aisle.
    â€œI want that book!” she cried. Jane recognized her as the passionate young woman from the dining room.
    What are you doing, Maria
? she thought and then gasped in alarm as more women leapt from their seats.
    â€œLadies!” Sinclair admonished from the dais, but they paid him no mind.
    Chairs went skittering. Women shoved one another in their eagerness to reach Lachlan’s desk and several ladies were pushed to the ground. No one stopped to help them up. The other women just jumped over them, such was their rush to get their hands on Rosamund York’s new book.
    Jane watched the pandemonium in horrified disbelief. But her shock was instantly replaced by a desire to act. If she didn’t do something quickly, her guests could be seriously injured. An idea flashed in her mind and she ran to the bank of light switches and turned them all off, plunging the room into darkness.
    Several women screamed, but the sounds of the crowd’s chaotic scuffling ceased.
    Jane counted to three and then turned the lights back on.
    Throughout