Bittersweet by Colleen McCullough Read Free Book Online Page A

and waiting to see if he wouldjust thunder by without acknowledging her presence, or stop to greet a fellow rider.
    The overcast day meant he wore no hat; slowing, he lifted his hand to his brow, fingers curled as if they gripped a brim that wasn’t there. No film star, he, but to Edda he was better than one of those artificial gentlemen, with their pancake make-up, mascaraed lashes and lipsticked mouths. A true Corunda landsman, and beautiful in Edda’s adolescent eyes. Displaying good manners, he halted, dismounted, then helped Edda down, for all she didn’t need helping.
    “This old lady needs turning out to pasture,” he said after introducing himself, patting Thumbelina’s nose.
    “Yes, but now Daddy has a motor car, she’s the last horse left in the Rectory stables.”
    “I’ll trade you.”
    The hooded pale eyes widened. “Trade me?”
    “The Rector, really. My home paddock is too small for a good young horse, but it would suit your old lady just right. I’ll take her in exchange for a four-year-old mare named Fatima, provided you keep her exercised,” said Jack, rolling a cigarette.
    “If Daddy says yes, it’s a bargain!” Edda cried, feeling as if in a dream. A horse worth riding as well as a lush little paddock for Thumbelina! Oh, pray Daddy said yes!
    At the time Jack Thurlow was just thirty years old, tall and well built without seeming clumsy or lumbering; his thick, waving hair was streaked between golden and flaxen, his face was handsome in a masculine mould, and his eyes were a stern blue. A Burdum to the core, Edda thought, from hair to eyes.
    “I’m old Tom Burdum’s heir,” he said gloomily.
    Her breath caught; Edda laughed. “You’re complaining ?”
    “Darned right I am! What would I do with all that money and power?” he demanded, as if money and power were disgusting things. “I’ve managed Corundoobar for old Tom since I was eighteen, and Corundoobar is all I want. The fat lambs bring in a steady income, and the Arab horses I breed for lady’s hacks are beginning to win me prizes at some important country shows. Anything more would swamp me.”
    A man with finite ambitions, thought Edda, fresh at that moment with the heartbreak of learning she couldn’t do Medicine. If old Tom Burdum gave me £5000 to do Medicine, he wouldn’t even notice a pinprick in his wealth, while his heir is of a mind to renounce everything except a pinprick. Corundoobar is 5000 acres of magnificent land, but it’s not even the biggest or the best of old Tom’s properties. What circles we run in!
    That had been the start of a curious friendship limited to rides along the Corunda River, a friendship that Edda was surprised to find her father did not oppose in any way, from Fatima the gift horse to the unchaperoned nature of his daughter’s contacts with Jack.
    For which, blame Maude. The ready-reckoner in her mind began to hum and then to click as the indignant Rector informed her of Jack Thurlow’s cheek in scraping an acquaintance with his virgin child, and there would be no Fatima in exchange forThumbelina, and definitely no more rides for Edda along the bridle path …
    “What utter piffle!” snapped Maude, astonished at the Rector’s stupidity. “You will drive me out to Corundoobar this evening, Thomas, and thank Jack Thurlow very prettily for his kindness in giving Edda a decent hack. Oh, what fools men can be! The man is very comfortably off, a Burdum by blood, and at the moment old Tom Burdum’s only heir. You ought to be down on your knees at the high altar thanking God for throwing Edda in Jack Thurlow’s direction! With any luck as well as plenty of good management, she’ll be his wife within three years.”
    A tirade that all four girls overheard, and discussed many times over those three years. The object of it, Edda, took it better than her sisters, as success meant Fatima and a new friend. The one who cringed and flinched at such naked determination was poor Kitty; if Maude