63 Ola and the Sea Wolf by Barbara Cartland Page A

not now put into Plymouth as arranged, but sail with all possible speed towards the South.”
    She was obviously so delighted with the command and her pleasure was so infectious that, as she smiled at the end of what she had to say, the Steward smiled back.
    “I’ll give the order to the First Mate right away, miss,” he said and went from the Saloon closing the door behind him.
    Ola went on talking as she had done before, lowering her voice to impersonate the Marquis’s responses.
    Then she lifted the decanter of claret and, moving from the table, poured the contents down behind the sofa.
    As that piece of furniture was also battened down, she knew the wine was most unlikely ever to be discovered since it would have seeped into the wood and be practically indiscernible.
    Then she put the empty decanter back on the table and went on talking.
    Nearly an hour later she rang the bell for the second time and when the Steward answered she said, in a hesitating rather nervous little voice,
    “His Lordship has fallen – asleep – I think perhaps he is – very tired.”
    The Steward came quickly to the table and Ola saw him glance at the empty decanter before he said,
    “I’ll fetch Gibson, miss. I expect you’d like to go to your own cabin.”
    “I think that would be a good idea,” Ola agreed, “and thank you very much.”
    A little later she heard the Marquis being carried towards the Master suite past her cabin door.
    When she climbed into bed, she knew with a little leap of her heart, that she had got the better of the Marquis!
    ‘At least by the time he wakes it will be too late to go back to Plymouth,’ she told herself in delight.
    She closed her eyes, determined that she would not worry as to what would happen when the Marquis awoke, but would try to sleep.
    *
    The Marquis stirred and felt as if his head was filled with fog and he had a fleeting memory of walking through the darkness to The Sea Wolf .
    He opened his eyes with an effort and somebody rose from the other side of the cabin and came towards him.
    “If you’re awake, my Lord, I thinks your Lordship should have somethin’ to drink,” he heard Gibson say and felt a glass pressed against his lips.
    He took a few sips, then turned away petulantly to say in a thick voice,
    “Leave – me alone, I am – tired!”
    *
    When he awoke again, he was aware that there was sunshine coming through the portholes and now his head felt clearer although his mouth was still dry.
    Once again Gibson came to his side and this time he asked,
    “What is the time? Where are we?”
    “Sailing down the coast of Portugal, my Lord.”
    It took the Marquis a moment to understand what had been said.
    Then with an effort, clutching at his memory, which seemed to be trying to escape him, he demanded,
    “ Portugal ? You mean – Plymouth!”
    “No, my Lord. Portugal. We’re already well past the Bay of Biscay.”
    The Marquis forced his mind to assimilate the information.
    Then in a voice that was a little stronger he asked,
    “What the devil are we doing here? I gave orders to dock at Plymouth!”
    “I understands you countermanded that order, my Lord, and told the Captain to sail South as quickly as possible. We’ve had the wind behind us all the way and it’s been the best passage I’ve ever known in the Bay. It’s a pity your Lordship weren’t awake to appreciate it!”
    There was silence for a moment.
    Then the Marquis asked,
    “Are you telling me that I have been asleep since before we were due to reach Plymouth?”
    “Yes, my Lord. I’ve never known your Lordship sleep like it,” Gibson replied. “And I’ve never known claret, not even a whole decanter, to have such an effect.”
    “I was drunk ?” the Marquis snapped.
    “I’m afraid so, my Lord. And it’s the first time I’ve seen your Lordship so foxed!”
    “How long have I been in this state?”
    “Three days, my Lord!”
    “Three days! I don’t believe it!”
    The Marquis forced himself