Tristan's face softened. Sweet child. How gladly he'd think of her as his little sister. There was a social pickle, but Pippa saw him no different now that she was once again an heiress, and he would not trouble her at the moment with reality. She looked well. That was the most important thing for now. And coming to think of it, now that she was no longer a maid, how else could she live under his roof than as his sister?

He took her hands. "My dear Pippa, how happily I should think of you as my sister." Then he placed one hand on his arm to support her and began leading her to the kitchen. "I didn't like to hear him talk like that either, however well intended the proposal. I promise you, I won't let anyone marry you off, whatever it takes. Sit, I'll make you something to eat." He led her to the bench.