Having moved her to the bed an assured himself that Pippa was not in immediate danger, Tristan finally left the room and went downstairs. He had just sunk down into an armchair, when there was a rap at the door downstairs. He ensconced himself further in his chair. If someone was in need of a doctor, they'd have to find another one today, even if he needed the money. He couldn't leave Pippa unsupervised.

The poor child would definitely have to go to a hospital.

The doorbell this time. Tristan ignored it and put his head in his hands. Was it too early for a drink?

Again, the doorbell rang. "God, at least kill me fast," he muttered under his breath, but he got up and went to answer the door.

He returned to the drawing room with the missive in hand, dropped down into his chair once again and opened it.

Well... that was some timing. Quite a bit too late to ease Pippa's mind was Ms. Zimmerman. If this thing was even serious. Tristan figured that the man Pippa had claimed was trying to kill her had been but a figment of her mind all along. It was a common form of insanity. But he was still suspicious. Even if there was not a murderer behind the letter, the author might still seek some kind of personal gain. Pippa's family had been rich after all.

Had the unfortunate maid been in a healthy state of mind, Tristan would have simply given the letter to her and asked her if she knew this Ms Zimmerman, but he would not risk introducing anything that might excite her fragile mind now. He himself would go out to find out what Ms. Zimmerman was about, as soon as his sister was home.