Peregrine's Prize (6 page)

The horses must have sensed the need for care,
because once the distance between them and the body scant yards ahead they
pulled up smoothly at the slightest touch of the whip. To her everlasting
relief they stood quietly as she looped the reins over a branch and ran to the
man who tried to lift his head from his knees.

"Perry? What happened?" Maggie knelt on
the ground next to him with no regard for her dress, now dragging in the mud
and dust.

He looked at her, his eyes puzzled and pain showing
in them. His cravat sat askew and several of the buttons on his waistcoat were
missing. The tweed jacket he wore had a tear in the sleeve and all in all he
looked a mess.

"Who is Perry?" He shook his head and
winced. "Who are you?" His eyes were cloudy and Maggie was fairly
sure he didn't see her or their surroundings with any clarity.

"Pardon?" Maggie wondered if she was dreaming.
"Come on, this is no time for games. There's danger around, and we need to
move. What do you mean?"

"Who are you? Who is Perry?" He held out
his hand. "Argh, what on earth? Why are we sitting on the ground; it's
hard and damnably earthy. Help me up." She tugged and he lurched to his
feet. "Thank you. Lud, I ache. Ah now you said something, but I have a
question first." He paused and rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I know
of no Perry, sadly I don't know you and even worse, I don't know me. Who am
I?"

Chapter
Five

"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."

"Hmm."

****

"Perry, lord man, wake up." Someone
slapped his cheeks. He wished they wouldn't. It hurt and he was in enough pain
as without someone adding to it. To be cooperative, he tried to lift his arm to
swat the offending hand away, but the arm wasn't being cooperative. It felt as
heavy as lead, and he gave up the effort.

"G'way."

"I can't, you need to wake up now." His
cheek was slapped, harder this time, and he screwed his face up tight. Lord,
whoever assaulted him deserved applause for persistence. Perry gave into the
inevitable, opened his eyes and looked up to the canopy of a bed before turning
to regard the other occupants of the room.

"I'm awake. Now. Who are you?" He decided
he sounded abrupt and rude, but didn't care overmuch. He didn't recognize the dark
haired man with steely eyes and a hawk nose. Nevertheless the features sent a
frisson of awareness through him, and made him rub one finger along the line of
his own nose.

"Nash."

It meant nothing but Perry nodded cautiously. "How
do you do, Mr. Nash? Do you work for Mr. Abraham as well?"

A look he couldn't fathom passed from the man to
Maggie.

"What?" Perry asked.
Damn, I seem to be saying that in every sentence, it's getting annoying
to me. Heavens, what it's like to anyone else?
"Sorry," he said
in an apologetic tone. "This is somewhat strange. I can't remember anything
except, I think my horse was shying at something, and…" He rubbed his
forehead. "And I think someone with their face covered was using the butt
of a pistol on me. A Manton, engraved, and one I'd give my eye teeth for."
He stopped speaking suddenly. "How can I remember that and not who I am or
any of you?"

"The mind is a wondrous thing, something we
have very little knowledge of," the man—Nash—said. "I don't have an
answer, but if you remember that, we can hope you'll remember more. Now try and
rest. You're safe here. Maggie is making you some broth, and a posset to help
soothe your head. I’ll be back tomorrow and hope to have more news for you."
He touched Perry's cheek in a brief, caring gesture before he turned and left
the room: a tall elegant man dressed casually but expensively, in clothes
designed for the countryside.

 
Once he
departed, Perry pondered upon Nash's conversation. Why did it seem as if Nash said
one thing when trying to convey something else? Why did Nash think he needed to
be reassured that he was safe? He'd have to ask his wife.
My wife.
Those words sat well with Perry. His wife. Someone he
loved and who loved him in return, of that he held no doubt. Strangely he knew
whatever else happened, their love was a certainty.

The door opened and the focus of his thought entered
the room, with two steaming bowls on a tray.

"Chicken broth, and my grandmother's pick me
up," Maggie announced as she put the tray on the table. "Do you want
it now or do you…" She gestured toward the cupboard attached to the bed,
and blushed. The delicate red hue that warmed her skin fascinated him, even as
he realized he did need to use the contents of the cupboard.

"Cupboard," he said briefly, and she
nodded.

"Do you need me to call someone to er, well…"
She giggled. "You know what I mean."

"I'll manage." He swung his legs over the
edge of the bed. "So?" He waited whilst she stared at him. Perry
realized he was naked and even though he needed to make use of the facilities
his cock was hard and stood proud out of its nest of dark wiry hair. "Yes,
well, you have this effect on me. Surely it's always been thus? I can't imagine
I can have been anything but in a state of arousal around you. Here I am, I
remember nothing or no one but my prick remembers you." Some imp of
mischief made him run his fingers along the length of his cock, from his balls
to the red bulbous knob, and collect the tiny drop of liquid that gathered there.
"It seems he's ready to make your re-acquaintance." Maggie's eyes
widened and her breath came in short pants. She lifted one hand, as if to
caress him and then let it drop again.

"Ah, that will have to wait, you need to rest.
I'll wait outside whilst you, er…." Maggie waved her hand toward the side
of the bed. "Shout when I can come back inside to serve you." She
opened the cupboard to release the commode inside, before she walked out of the
room and closed the door behind her. His shout of laughter at her choice of
words made his head pound.

Stupid, idiotic…

Nash took stock of his surroundings as he willed his
hard cock to soften before he used the commode and then shut it away again. The
room wasn't overlarge but big enough to hold the canopied bed, several dressers
and cupboards and two deep buttoned chairs side by side near the long curtained
window. It made him think about just who he was and what his situation could
be. He may not be out of the top drawer, but judging by what he could see he
seemed to be reasonably plump in the pocket. Or was it all his employer’s? He
vowed to ask Maggie when she came back.

He didn't have a chance. Once he called her, she
tucked him in in a manner reminiscent of his nursemaid.
Hold on, I had a nursemaid? So not lower class, and more than likely
this is my house and chattels. Why do I remember my nursemaid?
He didn't
mention any of his recovered memories. Truth to tell Maggie's cossetting was pleasant
and comforting, and Perry enjoyed himself. If only his head didn't thump so
much. He understood there were many things he needed to think about, important
things he needed to remember.

And that thought is as
scrambled as my brain.

"Now, the doctor sent a message, and he will be
here as soon as he can." Maggie rearranged two pretty vases on the mantle
and didn't meet Perry's eyes. "He's with old Mr. Embleton. Poor man is at
his last. Doctor Nicholls thinks it will be but an hour or so, and then he will
return." Perry must have looked as surprised as he felt, because she went
on to explain more. "He came whilst you were still unconscious, and
reassured us you would rouse. Then he left to go to give comfort to Mr.
Embleton. No one around these parts dies alone. So for now, he suggests you
stay in bed and try to sleep." She tutted before she wiped one of the
vases on her skirts and then put them both back where she'd found them.

So the housekeeping is
not up to scratch? Does that mean we don't spend time here? Maggie seems the
sort to care about such things.

Perry realized dusk had overtaken daylight. Contently
he rested against the pillows and watch Maggie light the lamps, and close the
heavy velvet curtains. As the pain in his head receded from hellish to manageable,
he took better stock of his surroundings. The room was decorated in style and
what furnishings there were, were elegant and expensive. Perry was positive
that if he were the owner of the property he possessed more money than a humble
minor landowner.
Not that anyone has
actually told me what I do, or indeed who I am other than Perry Cotton. Now
having rested, the name Cotton sounds familiar, but not as mine.
Why did he
have a feeling Cotton was someone he'd used?

Used?
That was a strange
thing to think, but it seemed somehow to fit.

"What's my occupation?" he asked abruptly.
"How long have we been married? Where are we? Who…"

"Questions, questions my l … love," Maggie
broke in hurriedly. He'd bet his boots she hadn't been going to say my love. He
wondered what she pulled herself up over.

"Rest, not worry over such things," she
went on, and pressed a gentle kiss to his brow. Her lips were cool and soft,
and she smelled of roses. The familiar scent teased his mind. There was no doubt
he knew her somehow, but try as he might, someone seemingly pulled up the
drawbridge and erected a big 'thou shalt not enter therein' placard on it. He
wrinkled his brow, and she smoothed it with her finger. The slight roughness of
her skin sent another message to him. She'd been working with them, and it
seemed to contradict everything else he'd seen.

"What did you say my occupation was?" he
asked abruptly and hoped it would shock her into answering.
 
It didn't.

"There will be time enough tomorrow to talk
about such mundane things. It's almost midnight. Can you try to sleep? No doubt
the doctor will waken you sooner rather than later, but sleep, proper sleep
will be beneficial." She began to fuss with his pillows. As she leaned
across him to straighten the sheet, Perry couldn't resist. He stroked the
shapely arse that presented to him. Her gasp and wriggle gave him hope.