Promised to the Swedish Prince - Sasha Cottman Page 0,48

and wrapped it around her shoulders. She stepped out onto the tiny balcony which overlooked the street and took a seat.

“Damn,” she muttered.

While she resented them, the tears were not a surprise. She along with everyone else had clearly wanted to believe that what she had with Christian was real. Yet he seemed to be the only person who actually had the truth straight in their mind. Their engagement was a ruse. nothing more.

Maybe, Christian, you are a stronger diplomat than I gave you credit for. You certainly appear to know what you are doing. And who you need to seduce in order to get what you want. Damn you, Prince Christian Lind.

She wiped away the tears with the corner of her shawl. Her despondency at having to leave the party on her own was compounded by the knowledge that she was certain Christian didn’t love her. If he did want her, he wouldn’t have gone so willingly with another woman.

Things were right back to where they had been before Christian’s arrival in England. The two of them were merely friends, and her future, whether she liked it or not, was to never find true love.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“I agree with the first four paragraphs of the proposed trade agreement, but I am not prepared to move on your demand to give you another five-year option at the end,” said Christian.

Sir Vincent gave a heavy sigh. “It’s a standard part of most international agreements. I can’t see why you would refuse it. I am more than happy to guide you through the wording if you feel you need assistance.”

Christian picked up his glass of brandy and took a sip. He had been nursing the same drink for the past two hours. If the British thought he was some wet-behind-the-ears, young royal, they were sadly mistaken. He had read many contracts and agreements over the past two years.

I don’t need you to act as my mentor and offer to help me save face. I know exactly what you are doing.

Options were something to hold firm on when it came to finalizing agreements. If he agreed to them too easily, he could lock Sweden into long, unfavorable contract terms. The British were doing their utmost to grind him slowly down, but Christian resolutely held his ground. “Gentlemen, it is late. I suggest we conclude the talks for tonight. I shall confer with the rest of the Swedish delegation tomorrow morning. Let us agree to meet and hopefully finalize the agreement in the next day or two.”

Sir Vincent looked to the other members of his party, and they all nodded. Papers were shuffled and collected up.

After the rest of the gathering left, Sir Vincent and Christian sat and finished their drinks.

“Well, you’ve had a busy time since you arrived in England. A betrothal and now leading the trade negotiations. Your fiancée will be happy to see the agreement finalized, then she might stand a chance of getting you in front of a priest,” said Sir Vincent.

“There will be time for that later. Countess Erika knows that serving our king comes first,” he replied.

His and Erika’s engagement was still fresh and new in the eyes of London society. It was also fragile. If his fake fiancée did end up returning to Sweden, Christian would have to make it appear as if her leaving was nothing unusual. He would hide his broken heart behind the veil of doing his duty.

A short while later, Christian finally made it back into the main ballroom. He was quietly pleased with the progress that he had made with the trade negotiations. In the morning, he would meet with Baron von Rehausen and Count Jansson and fill them in. Then they could agree on the final strategy for getting the deal concluded and signed.

There was still a good number of guests mingling around the various rooms and he set out to locate Erika. To his annoyance, Lady Lynch quickly found him and began to haunt his steps. He was just leaving the supper room after yet again failing to find his elusive fiancée when she caught up with him. Her hand was on his arm before he had the chance to sidestep around her and leave.

“Don’t tell me you have misplaced your sweet little turtledove?” she asked.

He stifled a sharp retort. Whatever affections he may hold for Erika, she was still a noblewoman and didn’t deserve to be referred to in such a patronizing manner. If the trade deal was not so