Just This Once Read Online Free PDF

mouth, his very American way of tough direct
speech.
    “Out with it, you sniveling weasel!” Ethan
commanded, and downed the brandy in one gulp.
    “You are next in line to inherit your
father’s title and estates and his position as the Earl of
Stonecliff,” Latherby announced and bowed his head. “My lord,” he
added respectfully, and clasped his hands before him.
    Thunderstruck, Ethan stared at him for
several seconds, then gave a short bark of laughter. “The hell I
am.”
Four

    I’ m no more in line
to be the next Earl of Stonecliff than you are, Latherby.” Ethan’s
sneer widened. “My esteemed brother, Hugh, has the honor of that
particular headache. What the hell have you and Grismore been
drinking, man? You’re on a fool’s errand. I am the youngest son of the late Earl of Stonecliff, and as my father and brother
repeatedly told me over the years, before I left dear old England,
it is as well that I am, for if Stonecliff were to fall into my
disreputable hands, all of our ancestors would no doubt rise up in
horror from their graves.”
    “Then I’m afraid there will be a bit of
milling about in the family graveyard at Stonecliff Park, my lord,
for you are indeed in line to become the next earl, to inherit all
of your father’s properties and lands. The grievous news is that
your brother, Hugh, was killed some six months ago—thrown from his
horse while hunting—a most regrettable incident. That makes you the
only living son of the late earl. I regret the necessity of
carrying to you two pieces of such sobering news.”
    Ethan felt a chill rock him. Hugh dead. And
his father. He braced himself to reveal no outward reaction, but
his legs felt shaky in a way they never had before, not when he’d
faced down Billy Laredo in a gun duel, not when he’d been ambushed
by a war party of Cheyenne in the desert with his horse lame and no
water left in his canteen.
    He turned away from Latherby, mechanically
poured himself more brandy, and drank it without tasting a drop.
Then he paced back to the window and stared down into the
shadow-darkened street.
    The crowds were gone. Night was falling like
a gray shawl over the prairie and dusk softened the harsh outlines
of Abilene. The men and women and children had gone home to their
kitchens and parlors, chatting of the day’s events, of the work to
be done tomorrow, of the thousand little details of their lives and
families.
    And here he stood in a stranger’s office
above a saloon, discovering that the two people most closely
related to him were both departed from this earth.
    Good riddance.
    He closed his eyes, knowing he should be
ashamed of the thought, and in truth, he was. Half ashamed. There
had never been any love lost between him and his father and
brother. The Earl of Stonecliff had been a pillar of respectability
in English society—he moved in the best circles, knew all the best
people, attended all the best parties. And his heir—the thin,
imperious, proper Hugh, who had so closely resembled the tall earl
in his starchily elegant good looks, from his thin dark hair to his
patrician nose and elegant hands—had always been his favorite.
    In truth, Ethan had scarcely known his
father or his brother, who was six years his senior. He’d spent the
early part of his life with housekeepers and tutors and groomsmen,
rambling around the country estate, Stonecliff Park, knowing almost
complete freedom when his father and brother were at one of the
other family homes or in London. And when they were ensconced at
Stonecliff Park, with guests to be entertained, Ethan was always
kept abovestairs, too young to mingle with company, and of no
importance to anyone but his own good friend, Ham, the groom who’d
taught him all he knew of horses, of riding, of the wondrous
outdoors.
    And when he was older...
    Ethan grimaced and stopped the flood of
memories. When he was older, old enough to no longer be hidden away
in the country, the younger, unimportant son of a