Notwithstanding their agreement on public displays of affection, Erika could have cheerfully kissed Christian right there and then. The disapproving sneer which appeared on Lady Lynch’s face had Erika smiling broadly. She held out a hand, graciously offering it for shaking.
Get back in your cage, vixen. You might be helping Christian, but you don’t own him.
There hadn’t been much of a relationship between the two women until now—they had been nothing more than mere acquaintances. But the more she saw Lady Lynch, the less she liked her. It was clear the woman was determined to sink her claws into Christian.
“Countess Erika, may I escort you into the main reception hall?” asked Lionel Lynch.
“What a splendid idea, Lionel dearest. Prince Christian, there are some people I would like you to become better acquainted with. You and your sweet fiancée can meet up a little later,” said Lady Lynch.
Erika let her jealous heart have its way. She already disliked Lady Lynch, but her emotions were quickly moving toward hate.
The Lynches were clearly seasoned social creatures. They knew how to operate both within and outside the boundaries of etiquette. Erika was trapped, unable to refuse their host’s offer. With a brittle smile on her lips, she let the younger Lynch lead her away.
She chanced a look back at one point, only to catch Christian and Lady Lynch heading toward another part of the house. Her life in the royal court had taught her that this was how things were done. Favors were exchanged, markers earned and then called in when required. If they were going to get the trade agreement with Britain finalized and signed, sacrifices would have to be made.
It hurt to know that one of those losses might well be her heart.
Where is she taking him?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lady Lynch steered Christian through a door and into a sumptuously decorated drawing room. To his instant and immense relief, he discovered that they were not alone. The minute Lionel had stolen Erika away and Lady Lynch had taken his arm, he had started to worry as to exactly where he would end up this evening.
His father had taught him a great deal about diplomacy, but none of the lessons had ever covered the subject of what to do when a powerful woman offered you her body. Cash and metal were the forms of currency he was familiar with—the trade in sexual favors was something new.
He had never been the kind of man to lie with an experienced woman purely for the sake of it, and most certainly not for political gain. And especially not when he was trying to keep his head clear about the negotiations and Erika. Both situations were precariously balanced.
I wonder where Erika is, and what she is thinking. She certainly didn’t seem happy.
There were four other gentlemen in the room, all who stood at his approach. To his relief, Sir Vincent was one of them.
Lady Lynch released her hold on Christian’s arm. As she did, her hand drifted down his back and slid seductively over his ass. He might not be spending time alone with her this evening, but she was making her position crystal clear. The bill for having helped him gain entrance to the Carlton House set would eventually fall due. Payment was to be made in full.
“Your Highness, may I introduce the members of the British trade delegation. Of course, you know my husband.”
Christian pushed his concerns about Erika and Lady Lynch to one side. Both problems would have to wait. The cunning English had suddenly dropped the trade agreement negotiations in his lap. Without any support, he was going to have to go it alone and secure the deal for Sweden.
Erika was eventually forced to accept that while Christian was off with Lady Lynch, doing lord knew what, she had no other choice but to continue with her designated role of future Swedish princess. With the end goal of the trade agreement in mind, she put her efforts into working the room and trying not to think about the man she loved.
Lionel might barely be in his early twenties, but he had been well trained by his parents. He was possessed with an almost encyclopedic knowledge of people, positions, and power. By the end of the first hour, Erika had learned more about the workings of London society than she had garnered in the previous two years. Her evening was not a total waste.
Her and Christian’s upcoming wedding was of course the perfect icebreaker when it came to making conversation and keeping people’s interest.
“Are you planning on marrying in England or in Sweden? It would be wonderful if King Charles was able to attend. I’m sure the Prince Regent will be there.”
Erika gave the wife of the Spanish ambassador her brightest smile. The woman was all a fluster over the prospect of a royal wedding.
“We haven’t decided as yet. The betrothal was rather spontaneous.”
The other female guests all softly sighed at once. It was odd to think that the usually jaded diplomatic community had taken her and Christian’s supposed romance to heart.
Nice to see that some people still believe in the power of love.
“And where is Prince Christian this evening?” asked another lady.
The same question I have been asking myself.
“He is here somewhere. I am sure he will join me soon,” replied Erika.
That soon eventually became well overdue and Erika finally reached the end of her patience. She excused herself from the group of diplomatic wives she had been talking to and went in search of Christian. Moving from room to room, and finding no sign of him, a horrible sense of dread descended.
Please don’t be with her.
The idea that Christian was spending the evening conducting a sexual liaison with Lady Lynch while she made polite chitchat had her on the verge of tears.
You are a noblewoman, and you deserve to be treated with respect. Only a cold heartless rogue would abandon you for the evening.
“Countess Erika are you lost?”
Erika painted a winning smile to her lips and turned. Lionel Lynch stood a few feet away. The hard lines of his face telling her that he did not approve of having found her alone wandering about the house.
“No, I was looking for the supper room,” she lied.
She wasn’t going to tell anyone, let alone the man who had shadowed her for most of the evening, that she was in fact searching for Christian.
He offered her his arm. “Please, let me show you the way.”
Years of navigating social events had taught Erika the wisdom of hiding one’s disappointment when in public. With no other choice, she accepted Lionel’s overture and let him lead her to the supper room. Hurt and humiliation left her with scant appetite.
She silently chastised herself for letting her emotions get in the way. Christian, it seemed, had not fallen into the same trap she had and lost his heart to her. To him, their fake betrothal was exactly that—a means to an end.
Her sadness had slowly morphed into a simmering anger by the time she had finished her small plate of food. Lionel Lynch had remained by her side the whole time. She was not going to be left alone again.
You are my keeper, while your mother and Christian are heaven knows where.
Being treated like a child who had to be continually watched made her blood boil. Who the devil did Christian Lind think he was? She didn’t care that he was a prince, he still had no right to leave her while he went off with Lady Lynch. And how many people at this ball knew the truth of where her supposed fiancé was?
People must be laughing themselves sick behind my back. What a fool I am.
The time had come to take what was left of her dignity and leave. Christian clearly had no use for her this evening other than to make pretty with the rest of the guests; and she had well and truly played her part. She was done with being used by him. All that was left was the question of whether she really knew Christian at all anymore.
“Could you please have my carriage brought around to the front Lionel, I am tired and wish to go home,” she said.
Erika did her best to ignore the self-satisfied smile on Lionel Lynch’s face as he e
scorted her to the door and bid her a good night. He had done his job and kept Erika at bay, no doubt his mother would be pleased.
As the carriage pulled away from the party, Erika leaned back on the bench and closed her eyes.
“Fancy thinking that he might actually have feelings for you. Erika Jansson, when are you ever going to learn that this is all one big game and players like Christian will do anything to get ahead?”
Her mood was so dark by the time she got home, that Erika didn’t bother to call in and see her father in his study on her way up to her room.
After closing the door of her bedroom, she picked up a thick woolen shawl 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 heavily dependent on the likes of this evening’s hostess, he might have said something less than polite in response. “Countess Erika Jansson is proving a little hard to find,” he replied.
Lady Lynch chortled. “Well of course she is. Her carriage left over an hour ago.”
It took a great deal of Christian’s diplomatic training not to show his disappointment. The haughty superior look on Lady Lynch’s face almost begged him to respond. He could tell she was testing him, wanting to see if he would drop his guard.
This is not the first time I have dealt with your kind. You are mistaken if you think the Swedish court is full of lightness and loyal friends—far from it.
The political battle that had waged a few years earlier over who the eventual heir for the childless King Charles would be had taught Christian a great deal about the matters of courtly intrigue and game play. He was not as innocent in the machinations of politics as Lady Lynch might think.
“Ah, yes. Erika has an early appointment in the morning. We did agree that she might possibly have to leave before me. Thank you for the reminder,” he replied.
Christian quickly headed toward one of the supper tables, picked up a plate and began to pile food on it. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but the pantomime had to play out. If the British thought for one minute that there was any sort of discord between the Swedes, they would pounce and capitalize on it.
As he took a bite of a cold pork pie, he made a silent promise. Come the morning, he and Erika would be having words. And while his fake fiancée may not like what she was going to hear, he was damn well going to make her listen.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Why did you abandon me last night?”
Erika wheeled round at those words and glared at Christian. How dare he? How bloody dare he?
“I abandoned . . . Oh! You were the one who went off crawling into dark corners, leaving me to smile and make pretty all evening,” she replied.
The middle of Manchester Square gardens was hardly the place for an argument, but if Christian wanted a fight, she was more than willing to give him one. She let Freya from her leash and the dog bounded off in the direction of a nearby shrub.
Christian hurried his steps toward her, stopping only a matter of a yard away. Erika straightened her back. She was not going to be intimidated. Six foot three and strongly built, Christian had a presence about him. As far as she was concerned this morning, he could take his handsome, heart-stopping self elsewhere.
“Go away. I am trying to have a peaceful morning stroll in the gardens with Freya. If you wish to discuss last night, you can wait until I am home.”
“No. We talk now. I wanted to speak to you at home, but you had already fled. And what do you mean by accusing me of crawling into dark corners?” he replied.
She huffed and moved closer. “Don’t try to tell me your lies. You and Lady Lynch were gone for several hours last night. And her son did his best to stop me from going looking for you.”
He shook his head. “You have it all wrong, Erika. I wasn’t with her.”
“Really? Are you going to stand there and lie to my face?”
When he scowled at her, Erika thr
ew up her hands in disgust. She wasn’t stupid. It was obvious he was trying to come up with a plausible story to tell. To placate her. To keep her silent. “Don’t bother explaining anything of last night to me. I am honestly not that interested. All I would ask is that in future if you intend to abandon me at a social function, that you at least have the manners to tell me beforehand.”
“The British sprung the trade agreement negotiations on me last night. That’s where I was,” he replied.
She caught sight of a well-dressed couple as they entered the gardens by a nearby gate. They waved to her and Erika smiled at them as they approached. “Oh please, you don’t really expect me to believe that you negotiated a major trade agreement on your own, do you? You would need my father and Baron von Rehausen to hold your hand through the whole thing. Don’t feel that you have to lie to me, Christian. As I said, it doesn’t matter. Do what you will. I’m just sorry that I thought that you might be that one person who could rise above the fleshpot of London society.”
“What?”
Erika took one more step closer to Christian.
“I might be an innocent when it comes to some matters of the world, but even I know the three Fs of diplomacy. Fawning, farthings . . . and you know the last one.”
If the other couple hadn’t been in Manchester Square gardens, Christian would have stopped Erika and tried to settle things with her. But he dared not risk anyone witnessing their argument. He was left with no other option than to plaster a smile on his visage and fall into step alongside her as she called Freya to heel.
After some introductions and the requisite amount of small talk, Erika’s friends made their farewells. Apart from the occasional remark, Christian said little. He was still stunned by her words. He bent and patted Freya, but even she shied away from him. It was clear where the dog’s loyalties now lay.
Promised to the Swedish Prince Page 12
