63 Ola and the Sea Wolf Read online

  “I shall pray for your happiness.”

  Then to the Marquis he added,

  “You may kiss the bride.”

  Ola felt herself stiffen, feeling perhaps that the Marquis would refuse to do so, but he lifted her veil from her face and threw it back over her head.

  Then, as her eyes met his and widened a little in fright, he looked down at her before his lips sought hers.

  It was a very brief kiss, more a symbolic gesture, and yet it gave Ola a sensation she had never known before as she felt her mouth possessed by the Marquis and her lips made captive by his.

  The Marquis offered her his arm and they walked slowly down the aisle.

  Above her, where the light of the candles did not reach the shadows of the roof, Ola, looking up, felt they were not alone, but were being watched by celestial beings wishing them happiness.

  When they reached the porch, she gave a little gasp of surprise, for outside, lining the way to their carriage, was a Guard of Honour consisting of the seamen from the yacht.

  She knew that the Marquis was surprised as well, but he smiled as he led Ola through the ranks of his own men, dressed in their smartest rig.

  The carriage was no longer closed and, as they reached it, Ola saw that the hood was decorated with white carnations like those inside the Church and the horses had gone.

  Instead there were two lines of seamen to draw them and, as soon as Ola and the Marquis were seated, they moved off with the Guard of Honour following them.

  “Did you know this was going to happen?” she asked.

  “I had not the slightest idea,” the Marquis replied. “In fact I thought the only people who knew our secret were the Captain and Gibson.”

  Ola gave a little laugh.

  “I am sure that it was Gibson who thought of something so exciting and so dramatic. It is just what he would enjoy.”

  “Are you enjoying it too?”

  The Marquis’s voice was deep and it made her a little shy so that she could not look at him as she replied,

  “Of course – it is very – exciting for me and could we have a more – wonderful setting for our – wedding?”

  She looked up, as she spoke, at the stars brilliant overhead and, as they drew nearer to the harbour, they could see the moonlight shimmering silver on the sea and the masts of The Sea Wolf silhouetted against the whole glory of the Heavens.

  The Marquis’s eyes were on the rounded softness of her neck as she looked up, but he did not speak and Ola gave him a little shy smile.

  “Thank you, thank you!” she said to the seamen as they brought the carriage to a standstill at the gangplank.

  Then, as she smiled at them, they cheered her and the Marquis, waving their caps above their heads until they had reached the deck and disappeared inside the yacht.

  “How can they have thought of such a lovely surprise?” Ola was asking as she went into the Saloon and found that the surprises were not at an end.

  There were white lilies standing in huge vases on each side of the sofa and there were lilies on the Marquis’s desk and a profusion of white flowers decorated the table at which they were to dine.

  Ola clapped her hands together.

  “Who can have thought of anything so lovely?” she asked.

  “I will see that everyone is thanked in the most practical manner,” the Marquis smiled.

  She heard him ordering the Stewards to serve rum to all the Ship’s Company and champagne to be sent to the Captain and the other Officers.

  It was time for dinner and the chef had excelled himself in producing a meal that was better than anything Ola had eaten since she had been aboard The Sea Wolf.

  Finally when dessert was put on the table, the Stewards carried in a large wedding cake.

  “I am prepared to claim credit for this,” the Marquis volunteered. “I bought it today when I was choosing your gown.”

  It was certainly a very impressive cake of three tiers, decorated in the traditional manner with horseshoes and artificial orange blossom, surmounted by a tiny but very French-looking bride and bridegroom under a silver canopy of lovebirds.

  “We must cut it together,” Ola proposed.

  Then she wondered if the Marquis would think such a demonstration of unity was unfitting.

  But he agreed, saying as they rose,

  “I should really have brought my sword with me, but I did not think it would be necessary on this voyage.”

  Ola glanced at him quickly to see if he was talking bitterly, but he was smiling as he handed her a long sharp knife, saying,

  “I am sure this will be far more effective.”

  Ola put her hand on the knife and the Marquis covered it with his and once again she felt the strength of his fingers.

  They gave her the same strange feeling she had known when he had kissed her, but she told herself that it was only because she was feeling shy.

  The cake was cut and the Stewards, having left two slices on the table, carried it away to offer the rest to everyone aboard The Sea Wolf.

  A decanter of brandy was set before the Marquis and it made Ola think of the night she had drugged him.

  As if he was thinking the same thing, he said after a moment,

  “We have been through some strange experiences together, Ola, and perhaps the strangest of them all has happened today.”

  She thought he was reproaching her and, after a moment, she said in a small voice,

  “I – am – sorry.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “For what?”

  “Having brought all – this about, I know – what you must be – feeling.”

  “I rather doubt that.”

  “But of course I know,” she insisted. “You had sworn never to marry and you told me that you hated women as I hated men and yet because I – forced myself upon you I am now your – w-wife.”

  It was somewhat difficult to say the last word and she stumbled over it because it sounded so intimate.

  She felt the colour rise in her cheeks.

  “I think we have a great deal to learn about each other,” the Marquis said, “and, as we are both intelligent people, we are both well aware that what we said yesterday does not necessarily apply to today.”

  Ola gave him a little smile.

  “You are being kind to me,” she said, “but I want to say something to you.”

  “What is it?” the Marquis asked.

  He had made no effort to help himself to brandy. He was sitting back in his chair, his eyes on her face and he seemed relaxed yet almost as if he was seeing her for the first time.

  “We are – married,” Ola said in a small voice, hardly above a whisper. “I know it was – necessary and there was, as you said, nothing else we could do in the circumstances. But I want you to be happy and I will do – anything you decide, when we return to England.”

  “What do you mean by that?” the Marquis enquired.

  For a moment Ola could not reply.

  She was trying to find words to express the thoughts that were in her mind and yet would not formulate themselves as clearly as she wished.

  She said after a long pause,

  “If you want me to live – apart from you or if we are together at times because people would think it strange if we were not, I will try to – please you and behave in a way that the wife you would have chosen for yourself would behave.”

  The Marquis did not speak and Ola, in the light of what she had said, thought perhaps he was considering her suggestion that they might live apart to be a good one.

  She glanced at him and thought how handsome he looked and that there was something about him which would make him stand out in whatever company he was in and however many men there were around him.

  ‘He is so distinguished,’ she told herself, ‘and, in a way, magnificent.’

  It suddenly swept over her that he was her husband, she bore his name and she was his wife.

  Then, almost as if a voice from Heav
en spoke to her, she knew that she did not want to leave him. She wanted to be with him, she wanted to talk with him – to listen to him.

  She wanted – she could hardly express it herself – she wanted him to kiss her again!

  As the whole idea was so revolutionary, so different from anything she had ever thought about the Marquis before, she felt her heart beating tempestuously in her breast!

  In a panic she wanted to run away from the room in case he should be aware of what she was thinking.

  As if he had made a decision, the Marquis asked,

  “Give me your hand, Ola.”

  He put out his own as he spoke and obediently she put hers on it and felt his fingers close.

  “I think there should be no misapprehensions and misunderstandings between us,” he said. “I should tell you now exactly what I want of the future and what I feel about you at this moment.”

  He felt her fingers quiver as he went on,

  “It may be hard to make you believe it, but, as we married just now, I knew it was what I wanted and that you were, in fact, the wife I would have chosen for myself had we met under different circumstances.”

  Ola was so surprised she could only stare at him, her eyes very wide in the light of the candles.

  “Do – you – mean that?” she whispered.

  “I mean it,” the Marquis replied, “and it is true. Perhaps I should explain to you, although it seems unimportant now, why I said I hated women and why I came on this voyage in the first place.”

  “No!” Ola said quickly. “No, please don’t tell me! I have felt, in fact I am sure, you have been hurt and wounded and it was a woman who did it, but I would rather not know!”

  The Marquis looked at her in surprise and she went on,

  “What has happened in the past has nothing to do with me, except that you were there when I needed you most! So if it is possible – I would like us to start our life together anew – with none of the – miseries, the problems and the – difficulties that happened before we – met each – other.”

  She made a little sound, which was almost a sob as she added,

  “I have called you my Good Samaritan and that is what you were. If you had not taken me in your yacht when I was – desperate, my life would have been very – different. It would have been a – horror I cannot bear to – contemplate!”

  “I understand what you are saying,” the Marquis replied, “and I think there is no other woman who would be so sensible.”

  He smiled and it seemed to illumine his face as he added,

  “But then you have always been very original, Ola, and extremely unpredictable ever since we met.”

  “I know,” she agreed, “but I will try, I will try – desperately hard, not to do anything – outrageous again, but to be quiet and – well-behaved so that you will be – proud of me.”

  “I have a feeling if you tried too hard to alter yourself it might be rather dull,” the Marquis said. “After all, I have grown used, by this time, to dramatics and I have a feeling I might miss them if they were no longer there.”

  He was teasing her, but his hand still held hers closely as Ola said,

  “You – know I want to – please you.”

  “Why?” the Marquis asked.

  She was surprised at the question and she felt that he was waiting for an answer as she said,

  “You have been so – kind and it is only – right that I should want to – please the man who is my – husband.”

  “Is that all?”

  She looked at him enquiringly and then, because of the look in his eyes, felt her heart beating even more violently than it had done previously.

  What was more, it was impossible to look away and, although the Marquis did not move, she almost felt as if his hand was pulling her nearer and nearer to him.

  She did not speak and after a moment he said,

  “I think, Ola, it would be impossible for you not to feel very strongly about anything one way or another and I am therefore asking you what you feel about me? Not as a Good Samaritan or as a sea wolf, which you told me I was, but as a man and your husband.”

  Now there was a depth in his voice that made Ola feel as if she listened to music. She felt too that there were vital vibrations passing from his hand to hers.

  “What can I – say?” she asked a little helplessly.

  “The truth!” the Marquis replied. “That is what I want from you, Ola. The truth now – and for ever. I cannot bear to be lied to.”

  The way he spoke told her that a woman had lied to him in the past and left a wound that was not yet healed.

  Because she had no wish, as she had said, to think of what had happened to him before their meeting, she merely said simply,

  “I will never lie to you. But what I feel is difficult to put into – words.”

  How could she describe to him, she asked herself, the feeling she had now in her breast, which seemed to be rising into her throat and moving towards her lips.

  How could she tell him that she wanted him to kiss her again?

  Perhaps he would be shocked that she had such thoughts! Perhaps he would think her fast and immodest, or in Giles’s words, behaving like a strumpet!

  Because she was suddenly agitated in a manner that she could not understand, she released her hand from the Marquis’s and rose from the table.

  “I think – perhaps it is – getting – late,” she said a little incoherently. “It has been a – long day and I – should go to – bed.”

  The Marquis did not move, but merely looked at her standing in the centre of the Saloon, her red hair gleaming beneath her veil, the exquisite line of her figure revealed by the clinging white gauze against which her hands, wearing only the gold ring that he had put on her finger, moved restlessly.

  “I am waiting for an answer to my question, Ola,” he said.

  “I do not know – how to – reply. I cannot find the – right – words.”

  The Marquis rose from the table.

  “Words are often quite unnecessary.”

  He moved towards her as he spoke and, as she looked up at him, very conscious of his closeness, his arms went round her.

  He pulled her against him, saying,

  “Let us express our feelings in a far easier way!”

  Then his lips were on hers.

  As he kissed her, Ola knew that this was what she had wanted, this was what she had longed for, for a very long time.

  But, as his lips held her captive, it was impossible to think of anything but the wonder of his kiss.

  She felt as if the silver of the moonlight on the sea rippled through her body, as the strange sensations that had been in her heart seemed to move from her breasts into her throat and onto her lips.

  She was not certain whether she gave the wonder and the beauty of them to the Marquis or he gave them to her. She only knew that they were joined with a rapture that was too perfect to find an expression in any other way.

  What she was feeling was love. The love she had thought she would never find.

  The Marquis’s arms tightened, his lips became more demanding, more possessive and she wanted to be closer to him, so close that she lost herself in him. She was his completely and was no longer alone and afraid.

  He raised his head.

  “I love – you! I love – you!”

  The words seemed to burst from Ola’s lips.

  “That is what I wanted you to say, my darling,” he answered.

  Then he was kissing her again, kissing her fiercely, passionately and with an insistence that made Ola know he dominated her and yet she was not afraid.

  She felt as if her whole body had come alive and she was no longer human, but was flying through the sky towards the stars. She was part of the Universe and life itself and very much a part of the Marquis!

  ‘Why did no one tell me,’ she wondered, ‘that love is so majestic – and so – irresistible!’

  *

  The sound of the anch
or awoke Ola.

  As she realised where she was, she gave a little cry of joy.

  She was in the Marquis’s arms, her head was on his shoulder and she could feel his heart beating against hers.

  “I love – you,” she murmured.

  Then, as she looked up to see him in the pale sunlight coming between the sides of the curtains that hung over the portholes, he was smiling.

  “It is – true? Really – true?” she asked. “I am – here in your – arms and you – love me.”

  “Do you still doubt it, my darling?” he asked.

  “I thought I must have been dreaming.”

  “You are awake,” he said, “and if you have been dreaming about me, then it is true!”

  She gave a little laugh, which was one of sheer happiness and moved closer to him.

  “Were we – really married – last night?”

  “I hope so!” he replied. “Otherwise I can only think, my precious, that your behaviour at this moment is somewhat reprehensible!”

  She kissed his shoulder with a passionate little gesture that brought the fire to his eyes.

  “No one could be more adorable,” he sighed,” but why did I not recognise the moment I saw you that you were what I had been seeking all my life, but thought did not exist?”

  “I am – ashamed, too, of being so – unperceptive,” Ola said. “But even though you hated women you were kind to me and as really kind men are few and far between I was very – very lucky to find – one.”

  The Marquis kissed her forehead, his lips lingering against the softness of her skin before he asked,

  “Am I still a sea wolf in sheep’s clothing?”

  “A very magnificent, exciting and – demanding sea wolf, who I – love very much.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I might have known you would give me a different answer to the one I expected! So let me tell you I shall be a very ferocious sea wolf and a very jealous one! If I see any other man admiring your hair or wanting to touch the softness of your skin, I will kill him!”

  “There will be no need for you to be jealous,” Ola said in a soft voice. “I still hate all men except you and I love you so much there is no room for anyone else in my mind, my heart or my soul.”

  “And I possess all three?”

  “You know you do.”