63 Ola and the Sea Wolf by Barbara Cartland Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Cartland
haste was deliberate so that she could not interfere.
She saw all too obviously that her stepmother wanted more than anything else the social position of being Lady Milford and to be married to a man who could provide her with the money she had always craved.
The face she showed him was a very different from the one his daughter saw.
Ola supposed that she must have met her father’s new wife in the past, but she could not remember when and it was doubtful if the new Lady Milford would have paid much attention to the young daughter of a neighbour whom she did not often see.
But a child in the nursery or in the schoolroom was a very different one from the stepdaughter with a spectacular beauty and, when Lord Milford died, Ola inherited a large fortune that exceeded a dozen times what had been left to his widow.
The new Lady Milford was at first jealous of Ola, but now she was also envious of her money and her hatred exploded almost like an anarchist’s bomb.
Ola had only very briefly described to the Marquis what she had suffered. It would have been impossible to tell him of the agony she had endured in what was a continuous mental persecution besides being afraid of her stepmother physically.
Because she knew that Lady Milford disliked her good looks to the point where even to see her aroused her anger, Ola had always been nervous that she would find some way of damaging her face, as sometimes in a temper she threatened to do.
Then because she had both spirit and courage, Ola was determined to escape.
She was well aware that it was not going to be easy. As she became more and more a prisoner in the home where she had once been so happy, she knew that somehow, however difficult it might be, she must go away.
Giles had proved to be an undoubted Judas when she had least expected it and that had been a blow, which might have made somebody with less character collapse completely.
Then like a miracle, Ola thought, she had found the Marquis and now in his yacht she was safe for the moment, whatever difficulties lay ahead.
When she had drunk the coffee, being careful not to spill any of it on the fine linen sheets embroidered with the Marquis’s monogram, she lay back against the pillows and tried to think.
She had spoken to the Marquis of the diligences , but she remembered that they were slow and used by all sorts and conditions of people, some of whom might be very rough.
The most sensible thing, she thought, would be to take a post chaise to Paris.
It would be expensive and she would not have enough money to pay for one without selling some of her jewellery.
‘I must talk to the Marquis about that,’ she thought.
Then something fastidious made her feel that it was embarrassing to discuss money with the man who had befriended her against his will and would be wishing to be rid of her as soon as possible.
‘There must be a good jeweller in Calais,’ she told herself. ‘I will ask what he will pay me for one of Mama’s smaller diamond brooches. When I reach the Convent, I will give the rest of the jewels to the Mother Superior to keep safely until I require some more money.’
Then a sudden thought struck her and she opened her eyes to stare unseeingly but with a definite expression of desperate anxiety across the small cabin.
*
It was after midday when the Marquis came down from the deck to where his valet was waiting for him at the bottom of the companionway to help him out of his oilskin coat.
“Your Lordship’s not wet, I hope?” he asked solicitously.
“No, Gibson,” the Marquis replied. “And it is an exhilarating experience to see how fast The Sea Wolf moves with the wind behind her.”
“It is indeed, my Lord,” Gibson replied. “I always said your Lordship be right in choosin’ this type of yacht for what you require.”
“I am always right, Gibson!” the Marquis said half jokingly, but with an inner conviction that told him that it was in fact the truth.
There had been a battle
She saw all too obviously that her stepmother wanted more than anything else the social position of being Lady Milford and to be married to a man who could provide her with the money she had always craved.
The face she showed him was a very different from the one his daughter saw.
Ola supposed that she must have met her father’s new wife in the past, but she could not remember when and it was doubtful if the new Lady Milford would have paid much attention to the young daughter of a neighbour whom she did not often see.
But a child in the nursery or in the schoolroom was a very different one from the stepdaughter with a spectacular beauty and, when Lord Milford died, Ola inherited a large fortune that exceeded a dozen times what had been left to his widow.
The new Lady Milford was at first jealous of Ola, but now she was also envious of her money and her hatred exploded almost like an anarchist’s bomb.
Ola had only very briefly described to the Marquis what she had suffered. It would have been impossible to tell him of the agony she had endured in what was a continuous mental persecution besides being afraid of her stepmother physically.
Because she knew that Lady Milford disliked her good looks to the point where even to see her aroused her anger, Ola had always been nervous that she would find some way of damaging her face, as sometimes in a temper she threatened to do.
Then because she had both spirit and courage, Ola was determined to escape.
She was well aware that it was not going to be easy. As she became more and more a prisoner in the home where she had once been so happy, she knew that somehow, however difficult it might be, she must go away.
Giles had proved to be an undoubted Judas when she had least expected it and that had been a blow, which might have made somebody with less character collapse completely.
Then like a miracle, Ola thought, she had found the Marquis and now in his yacht she was safe for the moment, whatever difficulties lay ahead.
When she had drunk the coffee, being careful not to spill any of it on the fine linen sheets embroidered with the Marquis’s monogram, she lay back against the pillows and tried to think.
She had spoken to the Marquis of the diligences , but she remembered that they were slow and used by all sorts and conditions of people, some of whom might be very rough.
The most sensible thing, she thought, would be to take a post chaise to Paris.
It would be expensive and she would not have enough money to pay for one without selling some of her jewellery.
‘I must talk to the Marquis about that,’ she thought.
Then something fastidious made her feel that it was embarrassing to discuss money with the man who had befriended her against his will and would be wishing to be rid of her as soon as possible.
‘There must be a good jeweller in Calais,’ she told herself. ‘I will ask what he will pay me for one of Mama’s smaller diamond brooches. When I reach the Convent, I will give the rest of the jewels to the Mother Superior to keep safely until I require some more money.’
Then a sudden thought struck her and she opened her eyes to stare unseeingly but with a definite expression of desperate anxiety across the small cabin.
*
It was after midday when the Marquis came down from the deck to where his valet was waiting for him at the bottom of the companionway to help him out of his oilskin coat.
“Your Lordship’s not wet, I hope?” he asked solicitously.
“No, Gibson,” the Marquis replied. “And it is an exhilarating experience to see how fast The Sea Wolf moves with the wind behind her.”
“It is indeed, my Lord,” Gibson replied. “I always said your Lordship be right in choosin’ this type of yacht for what you require.”
“I am always right, Gibson!” the Marquis said half jokingly, but with an inner conviction that told him that it was in fact the truth.
There had been a battle
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