He said nothing about my shudder or the fact that I’d moved away from his touch. As if that hadn’t occurred, he merely poured another cup of coffee, handed me my mug, then poured himself another round.
Ignoring the fact that I’d started trembling again and was standing at a distance, he casually sat down in his chair and stared out in the distance, as if the golf course greens were absorbing all his attention.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Penelope. I won’t suddenly change into an ogre and eat you up.”
“But you could, right? I mean, probably not to eat me up, at least I hope not . . .”
“No, pookas have no interest in eating beautiful women. And yes, I might be able to change into an ogre, if I had a clear concept of what one looked like.”
“Or a unicorn?”
“You want me to transform into a unicorn? Right here?”
“No, but could you? Could you become something magical like that, something mythical but not real?”
“It has been a long time since I went to Fairie, but the last time I looked, unicorns were rather sparse. They, like pookas don’t breed abundantly, even in Fairie.”
“Tell me about Fairie. Are there castles of spun sugar or forests that reach out and entrap people? Do some of the people have wings? Are they pink or glittery green?”
“You are not yet tied to a pooka. It would be better not to discuss Fairie with you. Discussing it always draws attention. That you do not want. If the queen saw you, she would surely want to add you to her court because she collects the most beautiful, even those from this plane.”
“Don’t be silly. She would never want me, then.”
We’d been sitting. Yes, I’d collapsed back in the chair and was greedily sipping the most delicious brew in the world.
I felt it before I saw it. Timothy had suddenly grown silent and had turned morose. He was usually so positive. What had I done or said to change the core of his personality?
“Was it that Charles Montgomery fellow who knocked all the confidence out of you?”