Promised to the Swedish Prince - Sasha Cottman Page 0,55

read all his letters, including the one you brought with you.”

Erika put a hand into the pocket of her skirt. “Take this please. I have no further use for it.”

Christian held out his hand as Erika dropped an object into his palm. She closed his fingers over it and gave a soft sigh. By the time he unfurled his fist to see what it was, Erika had already made it out into the hallway.

The tiger’s eye ring glistened as it came into the light and his heart sank. Their betrothal was at an end.

Erika is going to marry Gustav.

He let that painful thought settle in his mind for a moment. The trip to London had always had two goals. One being the trade agreement with Britain—something vital to his country’s world interests. But the second had come to be just as important to him.

Erika.

After all he had been through, he was not going to fail when it came to be winning her heart. Unless she told him straight to his face that she was in love with Gustav and would never be his, Christian wasn’t giving up. Not now. Not ever.

Chapter Thirty

As soon as she reached her bedroom, Erika dismissed her maid for the evening, explaining that she would handle her hair and toilette herself. The second the door closed; she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

If she let the tears come now, they would never stop. On the slow sea voyage home to Sweden, in the privacy of her cabin on board the Northern Lion, there would be plenty of time for crying. For moments of regret and fear for the future which lay before her.

Taking a seat in front of the dressing table, she slowly, methodically pulled out the pins and ribbons which had held up her hair. The repetitive nature of the task helped to calm her mood.

As the last of the ribbons were removed, long blond locks tumbled down her back. She checked her reflection in the mirror. A sad young woman stared back. With brush in hand, Erika began to tease the light tangles from her hair.

What had Gustav said in his first letter about a woman’s looks?

A wife should be respectfully and demurely dressed. Her hair worn in a tight braid and pinned out of the way.

Prince Gustav had an opinion on every subject. She was certain that her future husband would make sure that she was well versed in all of them.

A knock roused her from her musings. She turned as Christian stepped into the room and closed the door quickly behind him. There was a soft click as the key was turned in the lock.

He stood for a moment silently holding her gaze, then lifted his hand and held out a letter. “I brought this with me from Sweden. I think you should read Gustav’s most recent missive.”

She took the letter and broke the wax seal before handing it back to Christian.

“You may as well read it to me. We both should hear what he has to say,” she replied.

Christian unfolded the paper. It took only a moment for his face to screw up in anger. “Among other news, this is what my dear brother has felt the need to impart.”

Despite my protestations, Christian has been sent to London to understudy your father and Baron von Rehausen. I find this a most alarming development.

He ran his finger over the page humming as he did. “Gustav talks a lot about his military appointment and its importance. Ah! And now he goes back to me.”

My brother fancies himself in love with you. I trust you find this as disturbing a notion as I do. Countess Erika, you must resist any and all attempts on Christian’s part to win your favor. The agreement between my father and Count Jansson must be upheld.

He glanced up from the letter and their gazes met. Erika’s heart pounded at a fierce rate in her chest. For Gustav to have such concerns about Christian being in love with her, there had to be some truth to the rumor.

Was this why he was here? She could only pray it was.

“And do you fancy yourself in love with me?” Erika turned in her seat. She couldn’t bear to look at him if the answer was no.

He crossed the floor in two quick strides and came to stand behind her. Their gazes met once more through the mirror.

“No, I do not fancy myself in love with you. I know. I have had