"I do..." he said, noticing her smile. "Unless you would have tossed in your charms. Isn't that what you ladies do?"

Shit. The wine was loosening his tongue. He had crossed the line. He instantly reached forward and set the glass down. "I'm sorry. That was rude," he said rather flustered.

She actually threw her head back and laughed at that briefly, "I hardly have any charms, I don't think you have to worry about that." Her eyes danced merrily, "No harm done." She took a bigger swallow of wine. Was it her, or was Tristan looking like... a man to her and not her employer? Her smile kind of died and she looked away. She was already flush with the wine, so her blush wouldn't be as evident.

Surprise was visible on his face. "You do have a mirror in your room, do you? Have I forgotten to place one there?" He reached out and picked up his glass again, though he let the wine spin in it, rather than drinking from it. Perhaps she was just playing and fishing for compliments. If she did think she had no charms, it was actually quite dangerous, and he resolved to make sure she wouldn't go out for any errands after dark, and watch more closely for followers.

"Yes," she gave a shrug. Nope, she was serious it seemed. She finished off her glass of wine, then set it down and tilted her head back a little bit, closing her eyes to enjoy the lingering flavor. She would not ask for a second glass, for it was getting to her head and she was starting to like the good doctor in ways that she should not. Pippa felt warm in her belly for the fact he was even complimenting her.

He watched her curiously for a moment, the glass twirling in his hand. His eyebrows traveled up. Then his face relaxed and he took a sip of his wine. "Well, then you must either be modest or blind. You're a pretty girl, and you best know it too, for your own good. Those same gentlemen that treated you with niceties and respect when you were a lady, would treat you with far less respectful intentions now that you are a working girl." Perhaps it was too forward, but Pippa seemed like a very sheltered girl, and it would be crueler not to warn her. He had witnessed how some very respectable and gentlemanly classmates at university would go slumming to get their 'meat', and once they knocked a poor girl up, they would pretend they didn't know her and wouldn't care if she ended up in the workhouse.

"I can see perfectly fine, sir, I just don't put stock into these charms you say I have." She almost started to fan herself. She probably ought not to have downed the rest of the wine, but she had needed the fortification. She listened as he spoke of what evils could befall her by men. That he even cared made her brows lift a bit. Why DID he care? She stopped herself from asking the question.

"And it's a good thing too." Far too many girls of her birth seemed to care more about their appearance and superficial charms than about the qualities that really mattered, and spent all their time and energy developing the former rather than the latter. They could not be fully blamed, he supposed. For it was society that impressed upon them that being decoration was their only worth. "So long as you are aware of the stock others might put into it."

He finished his glass, set it down, and filled up both Pippa's and his own glass. He wasn't aware of the fact that the single glass was already affecting her.

She saw him refill her glass and almost balked. Oh well, she thought, you only live once. Pippa picked up the glass and was contemplating sipping some more, but refraining for the moment.

Tristan picked up his own glass and let the glass spin, contemplating on what to say for a moment. He liked to keep the conversation going, because he craved the human contact, but he wasn't very good at conversation. He drank his wine to buy time.

She sighed then and took a sip despite herself, then after savoring the brew for a moment, she spoke, "I do miss home."