Alas, it was not sweet Jesus who answered, but her employer who knocked on the door. "Pippa?" Tristan didn't wait for an answer. His hands occupied by a tray with oatmeal and tea, he carefully opened the door with his elbow and stepped in. She was awake alright, but the sight didn't put him at ease. She still looked shaken and sickly. He put the tray down on the night stand. "How are you feeling?" He pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed.