A Fiery Dalliance

XXXVII

"Does the flower ask the sun if it can bloom? No, and neither should you. You are not a burden or to blame for your pain. Asking for help does not deserve your shame." P. Bodi

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XXXVII.              

Perrie felt as though she had been clinging to her mother for hours, and she might well have been by the time she heard her father's voice over the top of the yelling from her grandmother.

It was the sound of Adam appearing that brought Perrie back out of her hiding place, and Grace followed her closely as they returned to the scene that had taken place between Cecily and John Parish, which had now come to the foyer in and amongst John's pile of things.

Perrie quickly noted that neither Joe nor Ed were anywhere to be seen. Her heart instinctively squeezed painfully in noticing that Joe was gone, and it hurt her even more when considering the fact that he was privy to such a cliché plan. 

It should have hurt her. It certainly had in the moment. Perrie had felt shock and sadness, but in her logical mind she knew that John Parish was to blame for it all. She had seen the power that Joe's father wielded over him, wielded over both brothers, and she understood that the Joe she knew was far greater than the puppet that his father seemed determined to control.

She had simply needed a moment to come back to that conclusion. And in doing so, Perrie knew that she trusted Joe. He had worn away at her defences with every utterance of that abominable pet name, 'Little Imp', and now even Perrie longed to hear it.

Because when he called her a little imp, he smiled, and when Joe smiled, something was right in this ever-confusing world.

"Perrie's dowry does not belong to her." Adam spoke pointedly, firmly, and without any semblance of patience for the man who had been intruding upon their hospitality for far too long.

"What are you talking about? It is her inheritance!" the viscount barked angrily.

"No," retorted Adam firmly. "Perrie has no inheritance."

"Ha! You mean to tell me that the daughter of a duke stands to inherit nothing! What sort of fool do you take me for?"

"A great fool, indeed," snipped Cecily. "A stupid, ugly one."

"The only child of mine who will inherit anything from me is my son," snapped Adam curtly. "As is the law. So, if you are determined to have one of your offspring collect anything from me, you have better produce a daughter from somewhere here in your pile of belongings." Adam motioned to the mess that the footmen had made of John's possessions.

Perrie was almost frightened by the look on John Parish's face. The level of fury there was positively murderous, but her father did not flinch.

"You must pay a dowry," John seethed.

"No, I must not. A dowry is not a legally binding contract. I can elect not to pay if I wish to."

"You will not want your precious Perrie ruined," bit back John.

"Your son has an infinite amount more honour than you, Viscount. He will marry her, even if I do not give him a shilling," Adam returned confidently.

John shook his head, stepping backwards in disbelief. In doing this, John's foot was caught in a shirt that was strewn across the marble floor, and he tripped and fell backwards, landing hard on his backside.

Cecily burst into a fit of laughter.

Adam stepped forward, standing over John, who was still on the floor in a state of shock. "Do not force me to fight fire with fire, Viscount. I know of your debtors. I know of your tendency to plug holes with loans from other lenders. You were banking on my money. Don't you think I was not privy to your intentions this entire time. What sort of fool do you take me for?"