Douglas nodded.  "Having music at home would be nice, but I doubt it is like hearing it live.  It is a bit tinny when I heard a friend of mine's."  He responded, leaning back against the chair quite relaxed.  "I like the sound of the wind and birds when I am out painting.  But the theater and hearing music live and closing your eyes and letting the images come through like painting.  I have gotten some ideas that way.  Some dark...."  He sat up suddenly and took another drink.  He didn't need that to come in.

Tristan nodded slowly. He knew that Douglas had been about to say something serious, but also... He was kind of dizzy and unable to focus. "I haven't heard it yet... a gramophone that it - is," he corrected himself. Maybe he should wait before he continued drinking.

"You should make your own decision about it.  I think it is a good thing, as I enjoy music.    I just prefer to it in life."   He finished his whiskey and poured some more.   He took another sip, mainly to distract himself from the thoughts that had been about to pop in.

"It's a good way to avoid people though," he said, and then he laughed, because he realized that the alcohol made him a bit too honest about the introverted nature he normally tried to hide, but the alcohol also made him feel less embarrassed about it. "Do you listen to music a lot?" He set his empty glass on the table. Best wait a little bit. He'd be a terrible host if he fell asleep.

"When in London or where there is a concert, I make a point to go.  I clear my mind and let the music lead me to colors and images.  It is relaxing mostly.   Depends on the music though I guess.   Back home we get musicians come in for festivals and some of the locals play for dances and parties.  I go to those when I am home.  I spend as much time with the locals as I can and visit.   I find out if they need help with anything."  He was often found working with his shirt off working on a roof or something physical that the older person or a widow can't do for themselves.

He looked at the other bottle and raised a brow.  "Want to try the next one?"  He slurred just a bit.  "Though I should ask where your privy is first."  He chuckled.

From what Douglas told him and had told before, it seemed that despite his high position in society, he did not like sticking with his own kind and enjoyed all kinds of company, and Tristan liked and admired him for it.

Good thing he didn't mention working with his shirt of.

Tristan really should take it easy with the drink, because he was feeling the effects and was worried he'd either fall asleep or make a fool of himself if he got more drunk. But he also didn't want to look as if he couldn't handle the drink. Which he couldn't.

"Of course. It's downstairs, on your righthand side. Not the one immediately on your right when you turn." That was the kitchen, and though Pippa would probably show the Earl the way, he didn't want Douglas to startle her by suddenly walking into the kitchen. And he still didn't like the way Pippa had looked at him. "All the way down the hall."

He was a bit loopy now.  He got up but sat back down with a wobbly motion.   Steadying himself, he got up and adjusted his shirt at the waistline, and headed down the stairs with careful attention to his footing.  He was used to drinking a lot, and he had been eating, so it wasn't too bad, yet. 

On the bottom step, he looked around.  "Did he say it was the immediate right or nae the immediate right?"  He muttered.  With a glance in the immediate right, he chuckled.  "Nae the immediate right it was."  He headed on forward to the next right entry and went inside and closed the door.

The kitchen was warm and inviting as the earl came in. The sound of muffled crying could be heard and then a startled gasp. The chair scraped back as she stood, and she quickly dashed away her tears. "Oh... excuse me..." she said, her voice sounding odd as she addressed him. Sniffling pitifully, she made to walk around him and go to another room. But then she realized he was probably not looking for the kitchen. "Are you lost, my lord?" she asked.

Tristan walked over to the water pitcher as soon as Douglas was gone and filled his cup. He really couldn't handle the alcohol. But he stopped drinking when he thought he hear muffled talking downstairs.

Pippa.

He didn't want the Earl to be troubled with the currently somewhat unstable servant. That was why he moved over to the landing to listen. That was why.

He realized that he heard the sound of sniffling, like tears.  He paused, to turn back, and then she moved around him.  He nodded.  "I found the kitchen but am looking for the privy.  I mixed up the directions."  He paused.  "Are you okay, lass?"  Tristan had seemed to say the young woman would be okay earlier.  It seemed she was still upset.