It was painful to watch her sitting there, huddled and plucking away at the fabric of her clothes mindlessly, a defeated young woman with no options. Poor Pippa. She was barely more than a child. A sheltered child at that, who had had no idea about the world she had naively stepped into, no idea about men. Tristan opposed violence. But he also kind of hoped that Douglas’ man had given that worthless fisherman a good beating.

He dropped his hands on the ledger and folded them again. “There’s no point in dwelling on what should have been now, Pippa,” he said gently. “And no point in trying to marry a man that has no interest in being your husband. For all the hardship, you’re still better off without him, or that man he tried to pass you off to.”

But truth be told, Tristan had really hoped for an easy solution. He had to sack Pippa. There was no other way. But he knew he wouldn’t have the heart to turn a pregnant, friendless girl out on the streets.

“Is there really nobody from your old circles who could help you? A relative? A family friend?” A school friend who could get her a position somewhere else? He couldn’t say it out loud.