63 Ola and the Sea Wolf by Barbara Cartland

you drink claret or brandy?”
    “I think claret,” she replied, “but only a very little.”
    The Marquis half-filled the glass in front of her.
    “I shall join you,” he murmured and filled his own.
    Ola reached for her glass, but as she moved she gave a little cry.
    “Oh, my brooch!” she exclaimed. “I could not have fastened it properly and I heard it fall beneath the table.”
    As she spoke, she dropped the diamond brooch she held in her hand down beside the hem of her skirt.
    “How foolish of me,” she continued. “I should not have worn it, but it looked so pretty with this gown.”
    “I will pick it up,” the Marquis offered.
    He pushed back his chair, looked down and saw that the brooch was out of reach of his hands unless he went down on his knees.
    As he did so, Ola bent forward to tip the contents of the little cut-glass bottle she had hidden beside her into the Marquis’s glass of claret.
    She had emptied it by the time he retrieved the brooch and emerged from under the table to sit in his chair again.
    “There you are,” he said.
    As he held out the diamond brooch towards her, he said,
    “It is certainly a very beautiful piece of jewellery.”
    Ola smiled.
    “It was one of my mother’s smaller brooches. My father loved her so much and gave her magnificent jewels on every possible occasion and anniversary.”
    “Then you must keep it safe,” the Marquis admonished,” and, if you sell it, be careful you are not defrauded.”
    “I will be,” Ola said taking the brooch from him.
    She set it down on the table and lifted her glass.
    “To The Sea Wolf !” she proposed, “and may she find wherever she sails, new horizons and eventually happiness!”
    “A charming toast, Ola!” the Marquis exclaimed.
    She knew that he was surprised not only at the words but in the sincere way she had spoken them.
    She smiled at him and the smile seemed to illuminate her face.
    “No heeltaps,” she said and lifted her glass to her lips.
    Because he was prepared to humour her, the Marquis tipped the entire contents of his glass down his throat.
    But when he had swallowed and put his glass down on the table there was a frown on his forehead.
    “I thought – that wine tasted – a little strange – ” he began.
    He reached out his hand as if he would take hold of the decanter, but before he could do so, he leaned back in his chair as if the effort was too great and after a second or so closed his eyes.
    Ola watched him anxiously.
    She knew that she had given him a very large dose of laudanum and she was not certain how soon it would act and whether he would have time to call a Steward to his assistance.
    It was soon obvious that he would not do so, though quite a long time passed while he sat with closed eyes, before his head fell to one side and she knew he was fast asleep.
    Fortunately the chair he was sitting in, which was battened to the deck, had a wing-back and his head rested against one of the wings, so that Ola knew it would be impossible for anybody coming through the door to know whether he was awake or asleep.
    Just as she had planned, because she felt the Stewards outside would be listening in case they were required, she went on talking.
    Because she did not dare try to imitate the Marquis’s voice, she made deep humming noises when he should have spoken which made it sound, she hoped, as if he was speaking in a lower tone than she was.
    After ten minutes had passed, she rang the gold bell that stood on the table for a Steward.
    As she had guessed, he was waiting outside and, as he opened the door, she called out in an excited tone, as if she was speaking to the Marquis,
    “Oh, let me send the order! It’s so wonderful of you! I am so happy!”
    Then she turned her face towards the Steward who stood just inside the door.
    “Will you please inform the Captain or the First Mate, if he is now in charge of the yacht,” she said, “that his Lordship says that as the weather is better we will