Who will be with you on 21st...
"Hold on to me, let me get you into the phaeton." The voice was low and the body he leaned on all woman. Perry felt the soft plumpness of a breast against his cheek as the woman helped him up and steadied on his feet. Somehow, in another time and place, he'd nuzzled breasts such as those. Touched, nipped, and teased them before moving lower and ... and he realized the woman waited for him to move.
"I can do it." His tongue felt as though made of wads of cotton and too large for his mouth. It was the strangest sensation, and not very pleasant. Perry wondered if his words were formed properly. "Can you understand me?"
The lady who held him smiled. Her overall expression however remained worried, as she nodded, and he wondered what upset her.
"Of course, why?"
"My mouth feels as if it isn't mine," Perry replied frankly. "Although if you say I'm someone called Perry, perhaps that's not surprising. I have no recollection of who I am or who you are. It's very disconcerting."
"You're…" She hesitated. "My husband Perry Cotton. I'm your wife Maggie."
He considered that, and realized it sounded both right and wrong. He had no problem accepting the quiet, unassuming, and attractive lady in front of him as his wife, but the name jarred. He chose not to mention it yet.
"Why was I on the lane? I seem to remember a horse, but you came after me in a phaeton? Is it ours?'
She bit the side of her top lip. The gesture was familiar. A picture of her naked and straddling him as she did the very same thing flashed into his mind, and his prick stirred to life. Perry doubted he had the strength to do anything about it, even if they were somewhere acceptable. He waited, but Maggie seemed to be struggling to find an answer. No wonder something seemed wrong.
"Well?" He prompted her and waited for what seemed like several minutes. "Or are you about to be accused of theft?"
"Oh, no, it belongs to your employer, Mr. er… Mr. Abraham. He started to look for you, and I said I would drive in this direction to see if you were on your way."
It sounded implausible, but Perry accepted his reasoning was not as it should be. Who hunted him? Why? Had he forgotten to do something he should? Sadly he had no way of answering his question.
"My head hurts," he said in lieu of anything else. It was true. A nasty throb hovered behind his eyes, and hard shards of pain were stabbing his scalp. "Can we go home? Perhaps send someone to find my horse?" Perry possessed neither the strength nor the inclination to question what line of work he followed, where they were, or where they lived. He happily let her assist him into the phaeton and then slumped down on the seat. Even though he had no idea how competent she actually was, Perry judged that if his employer trusted her, he had no reason not to.
"How long?" He closed his eyes. He felt nauseous and the skyline wouldn't stay still. "To our home." Our home, that works for me. She is part of me, that's the only thing I'm certain about.
"Not long, just rest."
Peregrine's Prize, from www,evernightpublishing.com