A Fiery Dalliance

VII

"I am a child, not a sink for your frustrations." Vineet Raj Kapoor

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VII.

15 June 1825

Dear Ed,

You will have returned from Cambridge by now, and I imagine you are home with Father. I hope you are not too clever or else your head will not fit into any of your fabulous hats this summer.

I have missed you. I have been thinking about what you said to me the day before I went away, that it really is impossible for us to forget the other, but I find myself struggling a little.

I apologise. I should not write such things when I know they will only worry you. I know you have been worried about me for a long time. Be rest assured, I am well.

Being around this family affects me. Half the time I am driven mad by a wretched imp, and the other half I am in awe and envy. Do you ever wonder about Mother?

Joe stopped himself and re-read over what he had written thus far. What on earth was he saying? Why was he so bloody forlorn? It had to be Perrie's fault. This would undoubtably all come down to her. Joe was certain that he could find some way to blame her.

She had returned. That was it. That was the reason. Had she stayed away, Joe could have carried on his merry way in trying to forge some sort of life for himself from the shambles that it had been not that long ago.

Joe promptly tore his half-written letter into pieces and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment to start afresh.

Dear Ed,

I hope your journey home from Cambridge was smooth and you are resting well at home with Father.

I look forward to seeing you at your earliest convenience. I have forgotten what you look like, it has been so long. In my head I see an enormous nose, freckles, and knee length red hair. Is that right?

Please pass on my regards to Father. I am doing well in my tutelage at Ashwood, and I hope he is pleased with my progress.

Joe contemplated detailing his renewed battles with Perrie. Ed had once heard all about Perrie when they had both been at home during the summer holidays and at Christmas. Of course, Joe had never gendered Perrie. Perhaps it had been his youthful pride as a boy, but he had never admitted to his brother that he had been bested on many an occasion by a girl, and a girl the size of an imp no less. Luckily for him, Peregrine was a boy's name. Ed had assumed and Joe had allowed it.

As that thought crossed Joe's mind, he was struck by the very first time he had ever teased Perrie. It had, indeed, been over her name.

It suited her, though. Joe leaned back in his chair, his quill still in his hand, as he thought about little Peregrine, Perrie. Her name was hers. It was uniquely hers. He had never come across another Perrie. Perrie was uniquely Perrie.

She was spirited and energetic and stubborn, but Joe could see that she did have a big heart for her family. Perhaps Perrie Beresford was not all bad.

Joe signed the brief, edited letter, and then sealed it. He quickly addressed it to his brother and would pass it on to a servant that morning at breakfast so that it could be posted.

He hurried across his bedroom to collect his pocket watch from the bedside table. He opened it to check the time and saw that it was nearly nine o'clock. The family would be gathering shortly for breakfast. As he always did when he opened his watch, he flipped over the face of his watch to touch the little keepsake he kept behind it, before he placed it back down to get dressed. He hurried into his shirt and breeches, before throwing his coat around his shoulders.