"You know I don't like it when you keep things from me when you are explaining things. Besides, I was thinking about finding a place to live, perhaps a small flat. That would be nice, don't you think?" She tilted her head as she regarded him with curiosity.

"On your own!?" he asked, before realizing that this was another way to irritate his sister. There had been too much shock and judgement in his voice.

"And why not? Plenty of women have lived alone before me." She lifted her chin, "I could live in a little cottage, Tris. I don't need much space... And if it makes you feel better, I could find a companion."

He hadn't meant to start a fight a few minutes after his sister's arrival and so he backed down. "Well, I suppose you could... It's just that Whitby can be rough. Especially some parts. I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

He didn't want to feel uncomfortable.

Her head tilted, "It's like that everywhere, if we're being honest." Nowhere was safe for a woman on her own, but that wouldn't stop her from trying to keep independent. "But I supposed having a companion wouldn't hurt."

"If you could find a friend to share with, I suppose that would make it a little better," he said reluctantly. Did his sister have friends? He wondered about that suddenly. But the question would probably not be appreciated.

"Will... you be staying here tonight?" He already knew the answer. It was a long way back to Newcastle. Perhaps she could still make it if she took the next train, but she wouldn't come all this way just to say hello. Still, he'd like an indication of how long she was going to stay. He would have liked that indication some days ago.

"I thought perhaps I'd stay at a boarding house until I can find my place here in Whitby. Unless you have a place that I could rest my head?" She did that thing where she batted her eyelashes to tug at his heartstrings.

Oh this wasn't fair. Even if he'd turn his eyes away and ignore her, he knew he could not let her stay elsewhere. He'd feel really bad. And then there was mother. He'd never hear the end of it.

He knew when to admit defeat: "You can stay here until you find a place, on one condition: That you do not go outside without telling me, and that you follow my instructions. I cannot tell you why, Penelope, but this place is not safe right now."

Intrigued, she peered at him with a slight squint as she did when she was considering something. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it and then nodded instead. "Alright, brother, I'll tell you when I am coming and going." She meant it. She sighed, "Will your maid be available to show me how to make these scones, or is she off limits?" To be truthful, the girl, Pippa, looked sad and lonely every time Penny cast her gaze toward her.

Penelope had always been headstrong and Tristan had feared that she would oppose him. He could not flat out refuse her staying here, and that gave her more power to decide the conditions of her stay than he liked. But she agreed and Tristan felt slightly better.

Only slightly.

"Pippa has been ill recently and is still recovering," he explained. Technically it wasn't a lie, even if it was anything but the full truth. "If she has time and energy for it, you're free to ask her. Just make sure she doesn't stretch herself. She's rather eager to please, I daresay, and I wouldn't want her to overexert herself."

But Tristan suddenly wondered whether another young lady to talk to might not be exactly what the poor child needed. He knew that she was lonely. She had as good as admitted that it was loneliness that had driven her into the arms of that useless fisherman. As a man and her employer, Tristan could do little to alleviate her loneliness. And he doubted that the working women in the yard behind the house were suitable company for the girl. But Penelope was like the elegant and well-bred young ladies Pippa would have grown up and gone to school with.

Well, almost. Penelope was also very much her own category of 'lady'.