Whereas some people spent their Sunday mornings in church, listening to threats of damnation from their minister, Tristan spent his in his study, subjected to similar threats from his ledgers. Except today the books weren't even opened. He just sat there with his head in his hands, staring down at the pile of receipt and unopened book, dreading the sense of shame so much that he couldn't get himself to begin.

The knock was a welcome excuse to put of the discomfort for a bit longer. Tristan got up, opened the door and stepped out, rather than letting his sister in, as if he feared that the very sight of what was on his desk gave away his desperate financial situation. "Sister..." he said, a little surprised at the plate. "Is Pippa still unwell? Please, let's go into the dining room." He gestured in the direction of the next room.