His relief on finding the delirium had passed was short-lived. He felt a lump in his throat when she mentioned wanting her mother. Of course she did, poor soul. She was barely past girlhood. To be so alone in the world and have to reconcile to the fact that her mother would never again be there to guide her - he could almost feel her pain in that moment. And Pippa had not just lost her mother, but also her brother. Her papa.

It was sudden. It was swift. He could do nothing to stop it. Tears sprang to his eyes. He tried to push them back, but he already felt a warm trail along his cheek. In that moment, he'd give anything to hug her to offer her some substitute for that fatherly love she so missed. But it would be inappropriate, even more so now that she was again Miss Danes, the New York socialite. Instead, he quickly brushed his cheek with his shoulder and reached out place his hand on hers, very very gently, so that she could pull away if she wanted to. "I'm so sorry, Pippa," he croaked.