And the smile that Timothy gave me when he lifted his lips from my hand, sent another tremor deep inside me. I was far too awed to fight this sudden dependency. If someone had told me that this man was as essential as the air I breathed, I’d merely have nodded. That was my conviction. I’d been hooked and landed. Full consciousness was no longer relevant.
Timothy
She is in a trance from our interaction. That doesn’t please me greatly. I do not want an artificial relationship fostered between us. The males of my line could and probably have taken advantage of such saliva and proximity infatuations. She could easily be brought to the altar without being free from the compulsion of my heritage, but I do not want that. I want her love to blossom. I desire the full commitment of her soul.
It will come, I tell myself. She will soon fall in love with me naturally and wholeheartedly, but such an assumption is risky, and I tremble with doubt in case I should be wrong. Yet the Fates have spoken. I do not believe they would allow our severing now.
Andrew continues to mock me. He says to tell her that I’m rich, to offer her jewelry and trinkets, but I can already sense that Penelope is not fashioned that way. She is the woman I dreamed of, the one whose morality is as firm as her resolutions to be independent and strong. She is shy, modest, and well-read. She shares my passion for art. We meld perfectly.
However, the two components that I respect the most in her may prove the greatest challenge. I have lived a long life, seeing fashion change along with the rights and customs of females. I respect the current viewpoints. In fact, I cherish them because they are part of who Penelope is, but I will admit that it is difficult for me to stand away and not swoop in and save her from her current semi-poverty. She is so alone, so destitute of family and friends. I know I could easily trample her resistance, but I will not.