Arranged to be Yours

Chapter 11

The crisp evening breeze nipped at my skin and sent a shiver running down my spine as I wrapped my coat closer around myself, adjusting my scarf so that it covered a bit more of my face and obscured my identity as well. Not that anyone would recognize me anyway, since no one was out on the streets at that time of night, the numbers on my phone indicating 23:54, but still, I couldn't be too careful. 

The park was empty save for me, the streets completely silent as the only audible sounds were that of the night. The rustle of leaves on the trees, an owl hooting somewhere in the distance and the rickety squeak of the rusty swings as they moved in the wind.

Suddenly, a twig snapped behind me and my heartbeat sped up. It could be anyone: a kidnapper, a criminal, a gang member... The scent of a true aromatic fougère flooded my senses. A fresh, clean-cut, aromatic top note rising from a woody, fougère heart. Masculin notes of sandalwood and thyme that complimented the fragrance made for a blend that oozed of old world charm and modern sophistication. English Blazer. And just like that, my panic vanished as my heart settled again.

"You took your time. I was beginning to wonder if you were still coming." I murmured out, not turning around.

A deep, smooth voice answered me, the sound a low rumble in the night.

"I got held up. A few sips of wine and she got a headache the size of Everest. I had to light all the scented candles around the house to calm her down."

The man stepped next to me but looked straight ahead, just like I was doing.

"And you? Have any trouble sneaking out?"

"Not really. He might have gotten a bit of an overload of information and the wine didn't help either because he had more energy than a kid in a candy shop."

A soft snort before, "So? What'd you do? Knock him out or something?"

"If by knock him out you mean give him one of my famous cups of soothing tea, then yes. It worked its magic and before long, he was hurling head first into dreamland."

He chuckled.

"If I didn't know any better then I'd say you were a witch. After all, no one can withstand your tea. There has to be some sort of magic involved."

I rolled my eyes out of annoyance.

"Luckily you know better, idiot. The only magic involved is the fact that it's Grandma Megan's recipe, nothing more."

"Not quite, little red. Aren't you missing the key ingredient here?"

I raised my eyebrows expectantly, to which he turned and placed a hand over my heart.

"Love. It's different because it's made with love. It makes you different you know. You add the same amount of love into your writing as you do with even the smallest of tasks. Not many people have that drive anymore. But I've always known you to be something else, something special, ever since the day you were born. That husband of yours better treat you right."

I smiled slightly upon the mention of Adrien, feeling a pang of guilt for not telling him about my late night endeavor.

"We get along well. He's quite the gentleman and, how should I put this? Mmm, he's...not what I expected."

"I can't blame you. You're a 22 year old with a future brighter than a supernova yet had to be forced into a marriage with a stranger to make your parents happy. It's not like you knew what to expect."

I hummed in response.

"Mmm, true. But I give you my word, Damien, he treats me well."

My cousin placed a protective hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but not painful, as he looked into my eyes.