Promised to the Swedish Prince - Sasha Cottman Page 0,13

and headed to her room. She had sensibly not made mention of Prince Gustav’s monthly letter of instruction. If her father was ever to discover that after receiving the first few of them, she had stopped opening the dry, boring tomes, he would have a fit.

Stepping into her bedroom, Erika smiled at the sight of the vase of Swedish wildflowers which sat on a table in front of the window. She quickly crossed the floor and picked it up. The beautiful bluish-purple harebells with their delicate cups spoke of long summer days walking the paths around the palace gardens, and of nights spent laughing with friends. Friends she hadn’t seen for several years.

She missed home. Whoever had sent this precious gift knew exactly how to touch her heart. The day when the Northern Lion arrived into London dock was always a day of celebration in the Jansson household.

I wonder what flowers our mysterious benefactor will send me this time.

London docks

* * *

Christian could smell London long before he caught sight of the docks. When he turned his face up at the stench, one of the other passengers laughed. “Welcome to England and the biggest, dirtiest city in Europe. Prepare to have more than just your delicate nose assailed.”

The thick grey blanket of tainted air which hung over the city was like nothing Christian had ever seen before. The pale morning sun was mostly hidden behind clouds and haze. When he was a young boy, he had seen the forests burning around the iron mines of northern Sweden, but even the smoke from those fires hadn’t blocked out the sun.

His first view of London was not favorable; rather it left him with the opinion that the English capital was an unholy, disgusting city. He dreaded to think what it would be like when he actually set foot ashore.

He gave an unsure smile to his fellow traveler. “I can see it is going to be an interesting place.”

At least his English was improving. On the journey from Sweden via Denmark, he had spent days studying and practicing, but he was still uncertain as to how well he would be able to converse with the locals. As soon as he got settled, he would engage the services of a language tutor and set to work on making sure his English was up to the mark.

The only consolation to the long sea voyage and disappointing initial thoughts of England was the prospect of seeing Erika again. Two and a half years had felt like an eternity. He had only glimpsed a snippet of a rare letter from Erika to his mother in all that time. While she had politely mentioned Gustav and his letters in that correspondence, Erika hadn’t spoken of him at all. Her thoughts and best wishes had been sent to the whole Lind family.

He couldn’t blame her for not mentioning him. He hadn’t kept his promise to write. The gift boxes which had gone to London each month had been sent anonymously.

Apart from their long friendship and memories of her smile, the hope that he would see her again someday had been the only thing Christian had been able to use to keep his heart warm through that time.

I cannot wait to see Erika. Being able to talk to her will be wonderful.

Throughout the long sea voyage from Sweden, he had done his best not to think about what he would do if he discovered Erika had changed over the past years. That she no longer welcomed the idea of his affection. He couldn’t bring himself to even consider the notion that she may well have resigned herself to becoming Gustav’s wife.

His head and heart both refused the idea. It was impossible. It had to be.

As he stuffed his hands into his pockets, his fingers touched the edge of a piece of paper. He took the note out and unfolded it.

Baron Gotthard Mauritz von Rehausen.

17 Manchester Square

Marylebone, London, England

The Swedish envoy was hopefully going to be in for a pleasant surprise. A prince of the realm was shortly to arrive on his doorstep, official letters of introduction in hand. While King Charles had entrusted Christian with the task of securing the trade agreement with Britain, the baron and Count Jansson’s assistance would be crucial.

Christian let out a slow breath. He had left Stockholm with all manner of grand plans and intent, but now, seeing the sheer size of London, a sense of uncertainty threatened.

Trust in yourself but work closely with the