63 Ola and the Sea Wolf

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63 Ola and the Sea Wolf Page 8

by Barbara Cartland


  ‘I suppose I can put her ashore at Marseilles or Nice,’ he thought and wondered whether, if he told her what he intended, she would find another means of circumventing his plans.

  *

  After a good night’s sleep, he felt remarkably well and in comparatively good spirits, except that he was very angry with Ola.

  When he was dressed, he went up on deck and now he no longer needed an overcoat or oilskins for the sun was warm and the sea reflected the blue of the sky.

  “Good-morning, my Lord!” the Captain greeted him as soon as he appeared. “I hope your Lordship’s in better health?”

  The Marquis bit back the angry retort that there had been nothing wrong with his health except he had been drugged without being aware of it.

  But he knew it would be undignified to say anything and he merely replied,

  “I am sorry to have missed so much of the voyage, Captain. Gibson told me yesterday morning that we have had the best passage he has ever known through the Bay of Biscay.”

  “Fantastic, my Lord!” the Captain replied. “The wind exactly right, the sea dropping after the storm and I already feel as if the winter is over and we’ve found the spring.”

  “Yes, indeed,” the Marquis agreed, feeling the Captain was being quite poetic.

  Because he looked surprised the Captain said with an apologetic smile,

  “Those are not my words, my Lord, but Miss Milford’s. We’ve all been thinking she looks like spring herself and no mistake!”

  The Marquis followed the direction of the Captain’s eyes and saw Ola whom he had not noticed before.

  She was sitting on deck protected by a piece of superstructure and looking, although he hated to admit it, very spring-like and undeniably beautiful.

  She wore no hat and the lights in her red hair seemed to dance in the sunlight, her eyes were deep green like the waves as they broke against the bow of the ship and her skin was dazzlingly white.

  As she saw him looking at her, she raised her hand in a wave and the smile on her lips seemed to welcome him.

  He wondered how she dared to appear so unselfconscious about her misdeeds, but he told himself that this was not the moment to confront her with them.

  Instead he made no effort to move towards her, but stood talking to the Captain. As he watched the ship move with a speed that thrilled him, it was hard, despite himself, to continue to be in a bad humour.

  “There’s a little damage I would like to speak to you about, my Lord,” the Captain said, after the Marquis had been silent for some time.

  “Damage?”

  “Nothing very serious, my Lord, but in the storm two of the water butts broke loose and knocked against each other, spilling their contents.”

  “Two?” the Marquis asked sharply.

  “They’ve been repaired, my Lord, and as good as they ever were, but they are empty and I wondered if your Lordship would consider putting into a bay I know of, a bit further down the coast, where there’s a spring of sweet clear water.”

  “You have been there before?” the Marquis asked.

  “Twice, my Lord. Once in the war when I was serving in a brig and we were out of water completely, before we filled up there and very glad we were of it too. The second time was when I was on Lord Lutworth’s yacht, my Lord. Very mean, his Lordship was and, although I told him the water butts were not seaworthy, he wouldn’t listen to me. Fell to bits, they did, when we encountered a storm off the Southern coast of Portugal.”

  “That was unfortunate,” the Marquis remarked.

  “Soon, my Lord, there wasn’t a single drop of water left in the whole ship.”

  “That certainly must not happen to us,” the Marquis said, “so we will drop anchor in your bay, Captain. How long before we get there?”

  “About forty-eight hours, my Lord, and you might like to stretch your legs on shore.”

  “It’s certainly an idea,” the Marquis agreed.

  All the time he was talking he was acutely aware that Ola was watching him and now, almost as if she was compelling him, he walked along the deck.

  “I want to speak to you, Ola!” he said when he reached her.

  He saw the light go out of her eyes as she asked,

  “Here or in the Saloon?”

  “In the Saloon,” he replied and went below without waiting to assist her.

  She joined him a few minutes later and, as she came into the Saloon, he saw that the expression in her eyes was apprehensive even though her hair seemed like a flag of defiance.

  She did not wait for him to speak, but moved across the cabin to sit down on the sofa she usually occupied, saying as she did so,

  “I am sorry – very sorry – I know you are – angry with me.”

  “What did you expect me to be?” the Marquis asked.

  “I had to save myself from my stepmother – and it was the only way I could – do so.”

  “What did you give me?”

  “Laudanum.”

  “How much?”

  “I am afraid – nearly a whole bottle – it was only a small bottle – but I knew it was – a very strong dose.”

  “You might have killed me!” the Marquis countered sharply.

  “There was really no chance of that,” Ola replied, “But you did sleep for a long time. I was glad when we reached the coast of Portugal.”

  “I suppose you realise that your behaviour is so outrageous, so incredible, that I find it difficult to express what I feel about it?”

  “I have said I am sorry,” Ola answered, “but it was the only way I could prevent you from sending me home unless I threw myself overboard. I did seriously think of – that too.”

  “You don’t frighten me with your dramatics.”

  “I know that and, as I have abused your hospitality, I am prepared to leave when we reach the South of France.”

  “That is certainly very kind of you,” the Marquis said sarcastically, “and I suppose you will be up against the same difficulties as before – no money and nowhere to go?”

  “I have told you – I will go to Paris.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” he said in an irritable tone. “We cannot go over all that again. For the moment we had best talk of something else, otherwise I shall feel inclined to give you the beating you thoroughly deserve

  She gave a little exclamation, but she did not speak and the Marquis went on,

  “It is obviously a punishment that was neglected when you were young and your over fertile imagination was given too much licence.”

  He spoke not angrily but in the bitter sarcastic tone that Ola thought was almost as wounding as if he actually used the whip he had threatened her with.

  Then suddenly, as she thought of how she should reply to him, she gave a little chuckle.

  “It was clever of me, was it not?” she asked, “I despaired – I really despaired of how I could prevent you from putting me ashore at Plymouth. Then the Steward asked me if I had any laudanum with me as the Captain had toothache.”

  “And you refused to help the Captain?”

  “I refused because I had actually forgotten I had it in my trunk,” Ola answered. “Then I remembered it and suddenly thought of a way to prevent you from sending me home from Plymouth and to contrive that you should take me South with you.”

  She saw the steel in his eyes and put her hand impulsively on his arm.

  “Please – please forgive me – and let’s go on talking together as we did before. It was so exciting for me – so different from – anything I have enjoyed before and, although I know you will not admit it – you seemed to – enjoy it too.”

  The Marquis looked at the pleading in her green eyes and despite his resolution to remain firm and very annoyed, he found himself weakening.

  “I am extremely angry with you,” he said, “but I suppose there is nothing I can do but accept this ridiculous situation, which incidentally is extremely reprehensible from the point of view of your reputation.”


  “I stopped worrying about my reputation long ago,” Ola replied. “Who is to know, who is to care where I am, except my stepmother – who will only be afraid I shall be found, which will prevent her from keeping my fortune all to herself?”

  “It is your fortune, as you call it, that is at the bottom of all this trouble,” the Marquis commented.

  “Of course it is and I was thinking that if Papa had had a son I should not be so rich, then no one would have worried about me. Let that be a lesson to you! When you have a family, have lots, of children, not just one tiresome daughter.”

  “I can simplify things far more easily than that,” the Marquis said, “by not getting married, and not having any children.”

  He spoke bitterly and without thinking, simply because the idea of marriage made him remember Sarah once again.

  As he did so, it struck him that in the days when he had been unconscious and today when he was himself, he had not once thought of her.

  “I have decided never to marry too,” Ola told him confidingly. “I have been ordered about too much in my life and a husband might easily be worse than my stepmother, worse than Giles and worse than you!”

  “You cannot spend the rest of your life alone,” the Marquis remarked.

  “I shall make friends,” Ola replied, “and friends are easier to dispense with than relations and husbands.”

  “You are talking nonsense!” the Marquis snapped. “Of course you will have to marry and the quicker the better so that you will have a man to look after you.”

  “And order me about?”

  “Undoubtedly and what is more, you will have to obey him.”

  “I refuse, I absolutely refuse!”

  Then she was smiling at him mischievously as she added,

  “Although I daresay I shall manage to do what I want to do, one way or another.”

  “I can quite believe that and your future husband will have all my sympathy.”

  He saw her eyes twinkle and had the feeling that she was not taking him seriously and was in fact so relieved that he was not really angry with her that she was laughing at his helplessness.

  “You are an extremely irritating brat!” he said. “God knows what will happen to you in your life, but I refuse to let it worry me!”

  He reached out for the bell and rang it.

  “I am going to have a glass of champagne,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”

  “Oh, yes please! That sounds very luxurious and exciting – especially for me.”

  “You must have had champagne before?”

  “Yes, but not at sea in a magnificent yacht with a handsome Nobleman all to myself!” Ola replied. “What could be a better opening to a dramatic story of adventure and romance?”

  For a moment the Marquis glared at her and then found himself laughing.

  He was right, she was incorrigible, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  He thought he had never in his life expected to encounter a woman who could behave in so outrageous a manner and yet make him laugh at her behaviour.

  “A bottle of champagne!” he said to the Steward.

  When the champagne came, the Steward opened it in front of him and poured the Marquis a glass and a glass for Ola.

  When the man had left the cabin, the Marquis said,

  “I have no intention of taking my eyes off this glass before I drink it, so if you drop anything on the floor, you can pick it up yourself.”

  “I was so afraid,” Ola admitted, “that you would be too grand to lower yourself and would ring for a Steward to find my brooch, in which case everything would have been much more difficult.”

  “It is something I shall remember to do in the future,” the Marquis said. “Especially if there is someone like you about.”

  “You are quite safe now where I am concerned. I would never do such an unimaginative thing as to perform the same trick twice.”

  “You are not going to play any more tricks on me. Let us make that quite certain, otherwise I swear I will throw you overboard!”

  “I warn you, I can swim!” Ola retorted, “and I shall either reach the shore or wait for another yacht to come by which, with my good luck, will contain a handsome, wealthy and unmarried Duke. I intend to go one higher each time!”

  The Marquis laughed again.

  “Perhaps we should confine ourselves to a quieter less eventful life, at least until we reach the South of France?”

  There was silence until Ola asked in a rather small voice,

  “Then what are you – going to – do with – me?”

  “I have not yet decided,” the Marquis replied, “but, of course, much will rest on your behaviour in the meantime.”

  “Then I will be good,” Ola said, “Very very good and perhaps if I am – ”

  She paused before she said quickly,

  “No, I will not say it. It might be unlucky.”

  “You are right, it might be terribly unlucky,” the Marquis agreed. “But you are to promise that there will be no more tricks and you have to swear that you have no drugs, poisons or lethal weapons of any sort hidden amongst your possessions.”

  “Very well then, I promise,” Ola said. “Do you know what I have been doing while you were asleep?”

  “What?” the Marquis asked in an uncompromising voice.

  “I have been reading about the Reform Bill. I found quite a lot of papers about it in a drawer in your desk.”

  She looked up at him quickly as she asked,

  “You don’t mind me reading them?”

  “I presume as I am allowed to have no privacy where you are concerned, I have to accept your somewhat highhanded methods. I realise that nothing is sacred from your curiosity!”

  “If I had found any love letters or anything like that,” Ola said, “I would, of course, not have thought of opening them or reading them, but printed leaflets are different. I could see quite clearly what they were.”

  The Marquis gave up the hopeless task of explaining that he did not expect his guests, whoever they might be, to rifle the drawers in his desk.

  Instead he said,

  “I should be interested to hear your opinion on what has been proposed so far in the amendments, which I expect you have read, that were included in the second Bill.”

  “Quite frankly I did not think they went far enough,” Ola asserted.

  Then, almost despite himself, the Marquis found himself defending the Government, and refuting Ola’s contention of ‘too little and too late’ as if he was speaking to a man of his own age.

  Chapter 5

  The Sea Wolf sailed into a small bay surrounded by high cliffs.

  They peaked so high that they looked like a mountain rising from a small sandy beach and Ola, watching every movement, exclaimed with delight when the anchor went down.

  “What an ideal place!” she said to the Marquis. “I do wish we could swim in this clear water.”

  “I am afraid you would find it very cold,” he replied, “it may look inviting, but the sea can be very treacherous at this time of the year.”

  “There is always some excuse for my not doing what I want to do,” Ola pouted and he laughed.

  “I don’t intend to be sorry for you,” he said. “You get your own way far too much already!”

  She gave him a mischievous glance from under her eyelashes and he knew that she was being provocative in a manner he had grown used to, yet still found alternately irritating and intriguing.

  The seamen had already lowered a rowing boat into the water and, as Ola and the Marquis climbed down a rope ladder into it, other men were bringing the empty water canisters up from below decks.

  “I want to see this spring,” Ola asked, as they were rowed away towards the shore.

  They went to the spring first and it was, in fact, rather disappointing to look at.

  There was only a small amount of water flowing from the dark rock, but, when they tasted it, the Marquis knew that the Captain h
ad been right in saying it was both pure and clear.

  “If we were enterprising,” Ola suggested, “we would start a spa here and sell the water to people with ailments, most of which I am convinced are imaginary.”

  “I think the Spanish might object to that,” the Marquis replied with a smile.

  They moved away from the spring over the soft golden sand and Ola, looking up at the cliffs rising about it, said,

  “Think what a wonderful view there must be from the top, not only over the sea but over the land behind it. I have always wanted to see Spain.”

  “Are you suggesting we should climb it?” the Marquis asked.

  “Why not?” Ola enquired. “It would be very good for us to take some exercise after being cooped up in the yacht for so long.”

  “I admit to missing my riding,” the Marquis agreed, “but I think that you would find it a hard climb.”

  Ola did not answer for a moment. She was looking at the small tracks up the side of the cliff she thought must have been made by wild goats.

  Then with a smile she exclaimed,

  “That is a challenge! And because I always accept one, I am quite prepared to race you to the top and beyond!”

  “Nonsense!” the Marquis replied. “It would be far too much for you. If you would like to sit on the sand, you can watch me climb some of the way up, then I can inform you what the view is like.”

  “I am not going to tell you what I think of that suggestion,” Ola replied, “because it would be rude, but I am certainly not sitting here watching you have all the fun. I have every intention of climbing the cliff. I am wearing sensible slippers and I think you will find it far more difficult in your Hessian boots!”

  “They may certainly prove a handicap,” the Marquis answered, looking down at his feet, “but let me assure you that I am extremely surefooted and if you faint by the wayside or rather on the cliff side, I shall be quite prepared to carry you down.”

  “You insult me!” Ola cried.

  She put down her sunshade as she spoke and looked at the cliff to find where the best place was to start climbing.

 

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