Tristan looked from Pippa to the intruder and back. He wanted to believe that the young woman was innocent. And he did, in part, now that he looked at her. Pippa was right. He had seen enough emotion in his career to recognize a person on the verge of a breakdown. But adrenaline was still rushing through his body, not helped by the memory of the story Tobias had told him about how he had been mugged and violently beaten.

He wanted to be certain that this was not a diversion. Still holding the dagger, he walked over to the window, opened it and stared down at the street below. No one there. No one on the roof. He turned. "We'll go downstairs." That way, he could see if there was someone in the house, and if not, it would be easier to deal with her in the drawing room with a sofa and brandy at hand, than here. He began to usher them towards the staircase, not letting go of the weapon for now.

If they complied, he checked the rooms below, before leading them into the drawing room. There he set the dagger down, though far out of Vigdis' reach. "You may sit down," he told them, and he poured three glasses of brandy and offered them each one. He stared intently at the intruder. Perhaps she was truly insane.