Promised to the Swedish Prince - Sasha Cottman Page 0,32

grateful for the efforts of Baroness von Rehausen—the envoy’s wife had taken on the role of de-facto mother of the future bride and was doing an outstanding job. If they did succeed in securing the treaty, it would be in no small part down to her efforts.

Her other concern at this very moment was a familiar one. Erika’s knee hurt. If she could have punched Christian once for every time her injury gave her grief, he would never heal from the bruises.

“Erika? Oh good. I was wondering when you would be home.”

Speak of the devil. I wish that for one moment you would stop being so handsome. If you did, my heart might stand a chance of surviving this madness.

The tall fair-haired man of her secret dreams inched into her sitting room. There was not enough legroom for him to step, let alone stride. His gaze roamed the small space, over the boxes and gifted furniture. “I think you might have enough to set up a whole house in here,” he remarked.

Erika raised an eyebrow. He was probably right. She took a deep calming breath and did her best to ignore her ongoing pain. “What can I do for you, Prince Christian?”

The smile disappeared from his face. “Why so formal? Are you still mad at me over this whole betrothal business?”

There were one thousand ways she could answer that question—few of them would do her any good. “No, just tired.”

Christian held a letter in his hand. He grinned as he waved it in the air. “Success! We have been invited to dine with the Prince Regent and some select guests at a private dinner at Carlton House. This is exactly what we need.”

Erika may have been feeling a tad out of sorts, but she had to agree with Christian—this was what they had been hoping for following the announcement of their engagement. Entry to the rarified air of the Prince of Wales’s inner circle.

She mustered her own tight smile. “That is good news. Congratulations, Christian.”

“This belongs to both of us.” His head moved from side to side and she tracked his gaze. He appeared to be seeking a way through the maze over to where she stood.

“Can you and I please talk somewhere else? There is not enough room in here. If you like I can meet you in the dining room,” he said.

Erika followed Christian out of the cramped sitting room and down the hall. Once inside the relatively spacious dining room, she dropped into a chair. The instant she took the weight off her knee, she sighed with relief.

“Long day?” he enquired.

“Yes. The baroness is nothing if not thorough in her work. Of course, I am most appreciative to have someone to assist me, especially one who has married off her three eldest daughters and knows all the things that a future bride requires,” she replied.

She wasn’t going to make mention of the fact that no wedding was going to take place. In the days since their betrothal had been made public, Erika had decided it was wise to go along with the lie as best she could. At least when they were in public.

“I will write to King Charles and make sure that the baroness gets the recognition she deserves for her valuable contribution. But that is not why I wanted to speak to you,” said Christian.

He came and stood alongside where she sat at the table, then to her surprise he went down on one knee. She took his offered hand, perplexed as to what he was doing.

He can’t be asking me . . . no that’s silly.

“Erika, I know things are unconventional in this engagement, but there are some aspects of it which need to be kept proper.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small box. It was covered in dark blue velvet and bore the three gold crowns of Sweden’s royal insignia on the top.

From the box he produced a gold ring. In the center of the ring was an oval-shaped piece of tiger’s eye. Erika recognized the ring in an instant. It had once been worn by the Dowager Queen, Sophia Magdalena.

“I would like you to have this. Tiger’s eye is said to gift the wearer with courage. I thought you might like it to remind you of just how brave you are, Erika,” he said.

She stared at the ring as he slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. It was too big and slid back along