A what? “J, let me out. I am dusty. Jemina, don’t go. Pleeeeeasse.”
“You’re singing again. I didn’t know you could sing so well.”
He coughed again. “It’s nothing I admit to.”
“You’re a rich alto, maybe higher.”
“Let me out. It’s dark in here. I’ll sound better. Promise.”
The ride became bumpy, and the cocoon banged up and down, side to side.
“Good God. I’m going to be sick. Don’t let me choke.”
“Daniel, I’m sorry. Shift a little, Daniel. Wiggle your way out.”
“Hope wiggles and wobbles. I don’t. Oh, my face hurts.”
Jemina tugged at the carpet, and he rolled onto the floor. Dust went everywhere, but he was finally able to sit.
“I’m dusty,” he said. “My lungs feel heavy, like I breathed yarn, and I’m dusty, Jemina. I’m never dusty. Can’t stand anything untidy, unclean like it’s been left to the streets.”
He hit at his torn jacket. A spray of lint filled the air. “My poor coat. It was ebony. Now, it’s sand. Aunt’s staff has been neglectful.”
Jemina knelt beside him and put her hot palms to his cheeks. “Do you know who you are?”
“I appear to be a dusty man in a carpet on the floor of a carriage.”
He peeked inside the folds and saw the truth, his naked legs. Kicking, he felt the weave chafe against his toes. His feet must be bare, too. “New evidence. It appears I’m dusty with no stockings. Make it all go away.”
She stretched and hugged his neck. For a second, he flinched. “No more hitting. I’ll be good.”
Jemina kissed his cheek, then his bruised eye. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
“You don’t mind kissing a drunk, a skunk drunk, drunk skunk?”
“Say your name. Please. Say it.”
The fear in her voice cut through the throbbing in his head, his chest.
“P. Daniel Thackery, the Idiot of Ashbrook. From a line of idiots. Done. Now stop everything from spinning.”
She mashed his face into the comfort of her bosom. “I have you. I’ll make you better. This has to be my fault.”
“Sure, your fault.” He started to chuckle. “It’s not like you hit me and made me drunk. Did you steal my pant-pantaloons? You don’t have to give them back, just wanna know.”
“Well, I didn’t do most of the things on your list, and I didn’t steal anything. I’m taking you home. You have a closet full of pantaloons and breeches.”
“My closet. I love my closet. It’s big. It hides secrets. Oh, you are comfortable, but I’m getting dust all on you.”
“It’s quite fine. When you’re home, I’ll get you all cleaned up.”
“Remind me. Tell my aunt her people didn’t clean under the rug. Dusty.”
“I’ll do that, Daniel.”
“If I put a white glove to this rug, it would fail. Maybe you couldn’t see it, my glove being white and all.”
He pushed and tried to climb up to the seat, but her grip was too tight. “Sit still.”
