Promised to the Swedish Prince - Sasha Cottman Page 0,6
sake, but it only served to make him feel even worse. Why couldn’t she and the count depart next week? If he had more time, then he would be able to show her how truly sorry he was and how much he regretted her leaving. “I know you might be looking forward to your new life in England, but for me, today is a very unhappy day. I have been thinking a lot about you of late,” he said.
“Have you?”
He reached out and took hold of her hand, hoping that his brother was too busy to notice. “I just wish you and I had more time to talk. To perhaps take a different path to the ones that we are both now setting out on. It saddens me that the roads of our lives diverge at this point. That we may never see one another again.”
His fingers itched to pull her into his embrace and leave a long, lingering kiss on her soft pink lips. If Gustav hadn’t been standing a mere three feet away, he would have thrown caution to the wind and done just that.
Erika closed her eyes and dropped her head. A tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away with her free hand. “The English writer William Shakespeare said, ‘parting is such sweet sorrow’ and I think he was right. I shall yearn for the wild beauty of Sweden, but I will especially miss you, Christian. I will do all I can to come back to my homeland, hopefully sooner rather than later. My only concern will be the possible circumstances of my return.”
His brother and Count Jansson were shaking hands, making their final farewells. It was now or never. He leaned in and brushed a kiss on Erika’s cheek, then whispered, “Would it be acceptable if I wrote to you in London?”
Her gaze shifted to Gustav, then back to him. “Yes, but don’t tell your brother. I don’t think he would appreciate it. Your father and mine spoke at length last night. It would appear that Gustav is set on me eventually belonging to him, and they are in agreement.”
His heart missed a beat. Had he left things too late? “And have you given any sort of approval of that understanding?”
“No. Not yet anyway.”
Christian let go of Erika’s hand. He stepped back a mere second before Gustav pushed between the two of them and towered over her.
“Countess Erika, I wish you a safe journey to England. I know you will make a success of your work in assisting your father. You do your king and your country proud by serving them,” he said.
“Thank you, Prince Gustav. I hope I shall be up to the task,” she replied.
Gustav cleared his throat and Christian’s stomach dropped. What the devil would he do if his brother suddenly got down on one knee and proposed to Erika right there on the dockside?
“I have spoken with your father and he has agreed.”
Oh no, please no. I couldn’t bear it.
“That from time to time, I shall be able to send you letters of guidance and instruction. I think you will find my insights into animal husbandry and the running of an estate to be most illuminating. I trust that you will read my correspondence and in time come to a decision as to how best to use those lessons,” said Gustav.
What?
A look of dumbfounded shock and surprise appeared on Erika’s face. Gustav wanted to train her to be a wife. This was the best thing he had heard all day. So much for being the grand romantic and wooing a woman—Gustav wasn’t even going to bother with trying to win Erika’s heart.
“Yes, don’t you think this is a marvelous idea, Erika? I am sure that you will find Prince Gustav’s advice to be of great use. Especially for when we return to Sweden,” said Magnus.
“Yes. I mean . . . of course . . . Thank you, Prince Gustav,” she stammered.
Christian kept his face as placid as possible, desperately hiding his glee at his brother’s ham-fisted words. He let out a long slow breath of relief.
Thank goodness he didn’t propose to her.
His new affection for Erika had only been a recent thing, but by the time that he’d realized it was more than just a passing fancy, it was too late. Her father had already accepted the position in London and Erika was determined to go with him.
Gustav had unknowingly just bought him four years. Time in which he could