Promised to the Swedish Prince - Sasha Cottman Page 0,39

the end of the first hour, the back of Christian’s shirt was soaked. Little wonder gentlemen all wore black evening dress. It wasn’t just fashionable—it was practical for hiding sweat stains.

He drew her to one side. “Would you care to take a stroll in the conservatory? I could do with a spot of fresh air.”

“Yes, and I would kill to take the weight off my feet and my knee,” she replied.

He guided her toward a door which led out to the glass conservatory. The rear of Carlton House overlooked St James’s Park, affording a lush green vista. Perfectly manicured lawns and English plane trees were set against the backdrop of dirty, grimy London. The conservatory itself was oddly devoid of plants. Instead a painting of a landscape had been hung at one end, and a small stone fountain had been installed in the center.

As soon as they stepped out into the cool night air, Christian took a deep breath. Erika let go of his hand and made her way over to a nearby bench, where she settled.

“Oh, that is grand,” she sighed.

Christian took a seat next to her. It bothered him that she was still in near constant discomfort because of his stupidity. If he hadn’t been so foolish with the sleigh, she wouldn’t be dealing with her injury.

“Have you seen any other specialists about your knee?” he asked.

She nodded. “I have seen everyone. There is nothing which can be done. I have learned to live with it. Please don’t let it bother you.”

“But it does bother me. I feel so guilty. And so helpless. I wish I could do something,” he replied.

Erika reached out a hand and placed it over his, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “You are doing something. This opportunity to help with the trade agreement is important to me. You mightn’t realize it, but the life of an unmarried noblewoman can be very repetitive and dare I say boring.”

Christian’s gaze came to rest on where their hands were still joined. The gold of the tiger’s eye ring he had given to Erika shone in the light from the bright candelabras which hung overhead. If only the ring was a single band of gold.

They sat in silence for a time. Her head was bowed, turned slightly toward him. He would have bet every penny in his pocket that Erika’s gaze was also locked on the tiger’s eye ring.

I wonder what you are thinking.

Approaching footsteps on the tiles caught his attention. It was the Prince Regent’s private secretary, Sir Richard Sandy. “Prince Christian, His Royal Highness the Prince Regent has commanded that you and Countess Erika gift us all with a dance.”

Christian met Erika’s gaze. With her injured knee giving her pain, would she be able to waltz?

Erika rose stiffly from the garden bench. “Of course, Sir Richard. It would be our pleasure. We will come inside in a moment. Could you please instruct the orchestra to play at andante con moto, as I am unable to dance at the pace of a Viennese waltz.”

Christian waited until after Sir Richard had gone back inside, then drew close to Erika. “Are you certain that you wish to dance? I am sure I could speak to the prince and explain the situation.”

“Don’t you dare. The Prince Regent is a hopeless romantic. He is positively smitten with the thought of you and I being together and in love. Us waltzing in front of him and his guests will be the highlight of the evening. We cannot possibly refuse,” she replied.

She was, of course, right. Prinny had stars in his eyes every time Christian caught sight of him across the ballroom. What he didn’t particularly appreciate was that more often than not those royal eyes were locked on Erika. Prinny seemed particularly captivated by her—something which stirred a hint of jealousy inside Christian whenever he thought about it.

Erika is mine. If there comes a day when I am forced to relinquish my claim on her, it won’t be in favor of a man old enough to be her father. And even then, it will be over my dead body.

He had absolutely no intention of letting the lascivious Prince Regent get his hands on his fiancée. Erika might be his in name only, but while they were still technically betrothed, Christian fully intended to defend his claim over her.

And the middle of a crowded ballroom, right in front of the cream of London society was exactly the perfect place to show everyone that