A Fiery Dalliance

XLIV

"I think everyone in this room knew of you before they met you." Another rumble of laughter confirmed Adam's suspicion, and Perrie, once again, grinned guiltily. "I will never forget Perrie's first day of school when she stormed out declaring that she'd made an enemy." Adam smirked. "I knew of the boy you were, but in getting to know the man you have become, I came to understand that you are a man of great integrity and resilience. You have honour and compassion and are truly the only one who can match Perrie's spirit. I greatly admire you, for who you are in times of trouble, and for the humour you find in the everyday. The decision I have made to trust you is one that I know I will not regret.

"There is no one else I could ever imagine deserving our Perrie. I pray you live your lives with a deep appreciation for where you have come from, and a great excitement for what the future may hold. I am proud to call you my son. To the bride and groom."

"To the bride and groom." The toast echoed throughout the ballroom as glasses were charged and champagne was consumed.

Music played jovially as the wedding breakfast was enjoyed by all, and Adam quietly shook Joe's hand as the dancing began, reiterating that he had meant every word of his toast.

Perrie then pulled her new husband onto the dance floor, and they took their positions amongst the couples and they began to dance. There was no sequence kept. There were not aristocrats present to impress with one's grace and lightness of foot. Everyone simply twirled and spun around with their partner, laughing as they did.

There was such a joy in simply dancing, and Perrie's heart swelled when she saw that joy upon Joe's face. Gone was his guard. Gone was any semblance of his burdens. The demons were nowhere to be found in that moment. He was free from pain and sadness, and he was happy.

"Do you know, I almost changed my vows," Joe informed Perrie as he spun her around, lifting her at the waist. The fan of Perrie's skirt whipped into her Aunt Cressie's, who was simultaneously being spun by her Uncle Jem.

"How?" Perrie asked with a frown. "Why?"

Joe grinned. "I thought the 'I take thee Peregrine Edwardia Beresford' line was a little formal. It took everything in me not to say, 'I take thee Little Imp Beresford'. The only thing that stopped me was I was certain Reverent Thomas would keel over and die from exhaustion at us both if I did." Joe sniggered.

Perrie gasped, though she smiled, devilishly amused. How that horrid nickname had once made her blood boil. Now she found herself wishing that he had used in place of her given name at their wedding. "Be careful, Mr Parish. Do not make me threaten to drown you in the pond. I will do it, you know."

Joe smirked as he placed his hands on Perrie's hips again, lifted her up effortlessly as he twirled her entirely out of the rhythm of the music. "Do your worst, Little Imp," he teased. "Or would you rather I call you Mrs Parish?"

That was the first time that Perrie had heard her new title aloud. Perrie Parish. She said the name a few times over in her head, and she could not decide if it went or not. Were there too many 'r's'? "Why didn't they call me 'Mary' or something plain?" she mumbled to herself. "There were about four thousand 'Anne's' at Mrs Liscombe's. I was the only Perrie."

"What was that, Little Imp?"

"Don't you think 'Perrie Parish' sounds odd?"

"No," Joe said immediately, shaking his head vehemently. "That is the name of my wife. She may be an odd little imp, but her name certainly is not."

Perrie rolled her eyes, but she could not hide her burgeoning grin. "Your wife is an odd little imp, is she?"

"Absolutely," Joe confirmed. "But I would not change," Joe kissed the top of her head, "a single hair," kiss, "on your head." Kiss.