Another drabble

I dragged myself upwards from the deep sea of sleep, through the lightening green and blue to the shallows, and then to the surface. As I did so, I saw Ned's face as he bent over me, boater at the most perfect angle, smiling and then pursing his lips for ...

And I woke, and I was in my bed in Holywell Manor, alone. Damn! Still, it was only another three weeks until the wedding; and Lady Schrapnell had promised to hide the bishop's birdstump entirely with flowers.

"Perrt? PERRT?" And there was Penwiper, wanting strokes, and cuddles, and breakfast.