The Pleasure Trap Read Online Free PDF Page A

to introduce the topic of Angelo without betraying Colonel Shearer’s confidence. He picked up one of the volumes that lay on the table.
“The Vanishing Heiress,”
he read slowly, “by Mrs. Barrymore.” He looked at Amanda. “I thought you had more intelligence than to read this drivel.”
    Amanda snatched the book from Ash’s fingers and clasped it to her bosom. She wasn’t laughing now. “Don’t mock what you don’t understand. These are
wonderful
stories.” She lifted her chin. “And Mrs. Barrymore is a wonderful writer.”
    There was a lilt in his voice. “Come now. I’m told these stories are all alike. The heroine is abducted by the lecherous villain and is saved by the hero from a fate worse than death in the nick of time.”
    “I didn’t realize you read them,” interjected the dowager.
    “I don’t,” said Ash. “But they’re the talk of my clubs right now.”
    “Men!” scorned Amanda. “What do they know? If you read Mrs. Barrymore, you’d learn something. Her heroines don’t rely on any man to save them. They save themselves.”
    “It’s a fantasy, then?” asked Ash, adding another log to the fire.
    The dowager hastened to smother the flame. “They are enjoyable stories, Ash, that’s all. We know that real life is quite different. Take Mrs. Barrymore’s latest novel. The heroine—I forget her name.”
    “Brianna,” supplied Amanda.
    “Brianna?” Ash sounded revolted. “What kind of name is that?” He gasped when Amanda slapped her precious novel against his chest.
    “Read it, Cousin, before you pass judgment.”
    He chuckled and gingerly replaced the volume on the sofa table. “I know all I want to know about the likes of Mrs. Barrymore and her stories.”
    “Pity,” said his grandmother. “Amanda and I were counting on you to escort us to the Clarendon on Thursday afternoon. All our favorite writers will be there to read excerpts from their books and answer readers’ questions. You did promise to escort us to any event we planned to attend.”
    “Escort you?” Ash was aghast. In his mind’s eye, he saw a roomful of twittering, gushing females and in their midst one solitary male—himself. Not even for Colonel Shearer would he lower himself to that level.
    Amanda said, “You won’t be the only gentleman there. Lots of husbands, brothers,
and
cousins will be in attendance, if only to give their womenfolk moral support.”
    “Don’t exaggerate, dear,” said the dowager. “There may be a few gentlemen present, but no more than that.”
    “You’ve been before?” asked Ash.
    “Not Grandmama, but I go every year without fail,” replied Amanda coolly.
    The dowager said confidingly, “You see, Ash, Amanda is writing a novel, too, so it’s good for her to meet other writers. They spark ideas from one another.”
    Amanda sat up with a jerk. “Grandmama! I told you that in confidence.”
    “Good heavens! Ash is family! He won’t tell anyone, will you, Ash?”
    “Trust me, Amanda.” Ash put his finger to his lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”
    Her good humor restored, Amanda laughed. “Of course it is. You wouldn’t want it to become known in your club that your cousin writes Gothic romances. Think of the ribbing you’d get.”
    That reminded him of Colonel Shearer. “Now that you mention it, there was talk in my club today of one of your tribe, a fellow by the name of Angelo. He has had a few pieces published in the
Herald.
”
    “I’ve read them,” said Amanda, “but I wouldn’t say that he writes in my genre. They are mysteries, and the endings leave me feeling let down. Nothing is resolved.”
    “You don’t think he could be one of your fellow writers?”
    “I don’t know. I think Angelo is a female, but her voice isn’t one that I recognize.” To Ash’s blank look she added, “Her style of writing is different. I think she may be new on the scene. Perhaps we’ll meet her at the symposium. Leigh Fleming will be there. He’s the