Douglas nodded and took a seat, "I will be here."  He was concerned about the situation but thought it best to let Tristan and Pippa take care of whatever was going on.

Tristan was rather surprised, for he hadn't realized he had been rude or seemed rude. Never been shouted at? Well wasn't she sheltered. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment and closed his eyes. "Look, I shouldn't have shouted at you. I'm just... we haven't had guests yet since you started working here and I'm anxious for everything to go right. I was a little overwhelmed just now..."

He had to get back to his guest. The last thing he needed was to seem like he didn't have any control over his own household. "Look, go downstairs and have your dinner. I'll clean the rest up. We'll talk tonight."

"Are you sure? I only need a moment." She wiped at her face. Poor girl looked so forlorn at the moment... she felt as if she had finally hit the part where she was overwhelmed.

Douglas pulled out a bit of paper and a pencil that he always had in one or two pockets of his jackets.  As he waited for the doctor and/or the maid to return, he sketched a picture of the maid's face.  He had liked it back in the library when he met her the first time, and now seeing her a second time, he just without planning it, her face began to become created on the paper as he doodled a bit.  He should be sketching the doctor's study, but sometimes the mind took him in its own ways.

She looked pitiable and Tristan was not immune to it. She was not at all used to this life, he remembered, and he was currently her only contact in this city. Pippa had a tendency to come across as strong and act as if everything was alright, and so he tended to forget that she was actually quite vulnerable. He had to tread more carefully around her.

He gently touched her shoulder. "Yes. Go and take some time to calm down, and make sure you eat well."

He walked back to the dining room. Perhaps sending her downstairs was slightly self-serving, keeping Pippa away from a man she clearly thought more than a little handsome.

"Sorry about that," he said when he returned to the dining room. "The maid was unwell." He picked up a napkin an cleared away the rest of the spilt food, and so he had no chance to see Douglas's drawing.

She sighed and nodded, feeling rather defeated at the moment. Pippa went downstairs as instructed to have her dinner, though she hardly had an appetite.

Douglas looked up hearing Tristan return.  He gave a concerned glance to the door that Tristan had just come through.   "I hope she will be okay.  If you need to treat her, I can go on home."  He put the pencil away with an easy motion, not worried about the drawing being seen, but did fold it lightly to fit into his jacket pocket once again.

"What? Oh no not at all," Tristan said, rather flustered. He really wanted his new friend to stay. He just wished they hadn't had this scene. This had gone so much more smoothly in his head. He had been so much more of a charming host, not some awkward doctor on edge who couldn't handle his own household. "She just needs some rest."

He sat down, took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and mopped his brow. Thinking about what the lord might think about him now and how he was probably only embarrassing himself more by stressing about it, but being unable to stop thinking and stressing about it -, Right. You get it. It wasn't going very well.

"Well, at least there's food," he said, gesturing at the dishes of salmon on toast, roast beef, vegetables, pies, roast potatoes, and apple tarts. "I hope you don't mind dining à la france. The maid's new and I didn't want to put extra pressure on her serving à la russe." It hadn't seemed like a big deal before, but now, with everything else, not dining in the popular way seemed like yet another social embarrassment.

The Scot shook his head and looked at the food.  "It looks fine.  I came tae eat and visit.  'ow it is done is of nae matter."  He smiled arranging his plating and taking the silverware to take a bite of the toast with salmon.  "Half the time I take something I can eat with one hand and paint with the other.  So, just sitting down to eat and have a conversation is unusual for me."

Tristan visibly relaxed upon hearing that the artist cared little for the proper way of having a meal. He put his handkerchief away and began to help himself to some of the salmon on toast. "Then I am glad I can offer the change of environment. Can I offer you some wine?" Two bottles had been delivered with the food. "Or would you like to try some of the whiskey already?"