Christian nodded. “I understand. I will not disobey you, Pappa.”
Only after his father had left him alone in the sitting room did he dare to risk letting out a long stream of curses. Damn. If only he had waited until the day the bag was due to leave Stockholm and then slipped the letter in, he could have got away with it.
“But no, you had to make sure you put it in there as soon as the pouch was on the desk of the King’s private secretary. You really are a foolish boy,” he muttered.
The secretary would no doubt have made mention of the letter to the King, who then would have spoken to his younger brother. At which point Prince Stefan would have stepped in and seized it. And all of Christian’s plans had been laid to waste.
“Well done, Christian.”
How was he supposed to woo Erika from afar if he couldn’t communicate with her?
His problem was further compounded by the knowledge that Gustav would be sending a letter this month. Who knew what he would be telling her in his correspondence? There was a chance that he may decide to sprinkle in some sweet words in amongst his notes of guidance.
He crossed to the window, tracking his father’s progress across the courtyard to the private apartments of the King.
Think. Think. What to do.
He couldn’t write. He couldn’t visit. For Christian to receive the King’s permission to leave Sweden, Prince Stefan would have to support his request which was most unlikely.
But four years was too long a time to wait. He would have to attempt to play catch-up when the Janssens eventually returned to Sweden. And Christian dared not risk hoping that his brother wouldn’t move and seek to secure Erika’s hand the moment she stepped off the boat.
There must be something he could do.
But what if hecouldmake the journey to London? If he was able to secure King Charles’ permission to travel abroad, to serve king and country?
If he couldn’t send messages to Erika via diplomatic channels, he would work those routes himself.
Christian stepped back from the window as the seed of a plan began to form in his mind. He was a minor member of the Swedish royal family, but a prince, nonetheless. Establishing a worthwhile career would solve a great many of his life’s problems. It would end his constant feeling of being nothing more than an afterthought at most public events. Have people view him as a valued member of the King’s household, and finally give him a sense of belonging.
He crossed the floor to the writing desk in the far corner and took a seat. With pen in hand Christian began to put his quickly growing ideas onto paper. Within minutes he had filled several sheets.
It would take work and he would have to prove himself to the members of the royal court. He may well have an impetuous nature, but he did have a sharp mind. Learning had never been a problem when something held his interest.
A diplomatic career could be a life’s work, an endeavor worth putting his heart and soul into and which would further the future of his country.
Christian grinned. He could just imagine being presented at the Court of St James’s in London. His Royal Highness, Prince Christian Lind, Swedish diplomat.
And Erika would be standing alongside him.
“Yes. I can do this—I know I can.”
In the meantime, he still faced the problem of being able to send Erika at least a reminder of home. Something which was not obviously from him.
The memory of his mother sending care packages to his older brothers while they were on military service slipped into his mind. Princess Olga had sent boxes each month with sweets, vodka, and long-lasting oat biscuits, all of which had been gratefully received.
A box of treats from home included with the diplomatic mail wouldn’t raise any questions. If he couldn’t write to Erika, perhaps he could still touch her heart by way of small, thoughtful presents. His gift would be a fond reminder of her homeland, of the people she had left behind and those who waited for her eventual return.
From this day on, he would set to work on finding a way to make the journey to England and win Erika’s love.
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Chapter Five
July 1815
A ripple of applause passed through the gathering. A beaming Prince Gustav shook King Charles’s hand.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall do all I can to serve you and our country,” he said.
