Tristan knew he had been lonely for a long time when he realized he was somewhat nervous about his new potential friend visiting. He didn't usually take much notice of whether Pippa cleaned meticulously enough, but now he had actually inspected the surfaces for dust (and had been pleased to find there was none) and he had asked her for some extra cleaning tasks that were usually reserved for the weekend. It was compensated by the fact that he had asked her not to cook. He had ordered food because... well... It would be a bit embarrassing to serve Pippa's food.

He now sat in the drawing room, listening for the bell and Pippa leading Douglas up. Tristan wore the same outfit as yesterday - his best - and he had freshly shaved and wore some cologne. He probably couldn't match up to the well-to-do friends the lord had at home and in whatever grand places he had visited, but Tristan still hoped to look tidy and respectable enough.

Douglas had his valet come in from his London house, as he was enjoying the time in Whitby painting and sketching.  He was even thinking about doing a few busts, so had decided he didn't want to waste time with his clothing.  The relaxing time here was worth it.  It was an escape from London until he went back to Scotland. 

The clothing he had requested was not his finest but it was what he would wear to go out to visit with those he respected and want to look nice for.  He had thought about one of his kilts but had decided to go with a gray suit and his vest a muted pattern of his family plaid and matching tie.  The shirt of course was pure white and his dress shoes were black.

He arrived just a few minutes early, as he had not been sure how long it would take him to get there.  He reached up to ring the bell.  Looking around at the man's house, he waited.

She didn't have to cook, thank God. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy it, but she still had a way to go before she was considered a good cook. At least she no longer burned toast! That was something........ right? When informed there would be company, she made sure to clean doubly in case she forgot the first time. She was very good at cleaning at least. It gave her satisfaction when he didn't find dust.

When the bell sounded, she came downstairs and smoothed her hand over her white apron, newly formed callouses making for a different sensation than she was used to. She opened the door and opened her mouth to welcome the newcomer, only to be faced with the handsome noble from the library.

She stared for a moment too long, caught herself and then said, "Ah, welcome."

When the door opened to reveal the young woman from the library, Douglas looked around.  "Is this the house of Dr. Wells?" 

He hoped he had not come to the wrong house. Looking back to Pippa, he noticed that she seemed in good health, which he was glad.  He had been worried about the event previously.  He had received several invites from the other young woman's family (the one that had caused Pippa to fall) and he had refused.  Most he would have given a polite negative answer.  But for this family, he had ignored the first few then had just sent back the message that he was not interested in the company it would put him around.  He had let them figure out why.  Knowing how gossipy people were, especially women and servants, her family would know what had happened when he met the daughter.

"Yes," she said, "I was told he was expecting company, my lord," she said and gave a stiff little curtsy before admitting him into the house. "Right this way, if you'd please," she said. She could feel the heat climbing the back of her neck. She was as attracted to the man as she had been the first time she saw him... But he was a nobleman and now she was a maid. He far outranked her even though she was once an heiress. It didn't matter anyhow, she was far from interested in the man who was too handsome for his own good.

She cast one more glance at him from beneath lowered lashes, then led him to where Tristan was... "Lord Douglas Gordon," she announced in an official-like tone. Then she backed out of the room, saying quickly, "I will get refreshments." One could tell just by looking at her that Douglas Gordon got to her, but she seemed to be trying mightily to act otherwise despite the telltale blush that formed on her cheeks, which she seemed to try to hide by running off in such a manner.

Douglas gave a friendly nod.  "Good.  Thank you."  He glanced around as he was led to the proper location in the house.  Realizing she must be the maid, he figured that was why the other young woman had been so rude.  Though that was normal by the snobs in many houses, it did not, in his mind excuse the behavior in the least.

He rose when Pippa and his guest entered the drawing room. Tristan noticed Pippa's deep blush, which required little interpretation, and he felt rather annoyed. Glad that she ran off, he closed the door behind her. "How are you today?" he turned to the artist, holding out his hand.

The drawing room was relatively dark, with thick dark green curtains draped around the windows. There were two velvet green armchairs and a sofa stationed around a glass saloon table. The room was rather devoid of the clutter so often found in drawing rooms, a sign both of his recent arrival and of his bachelor state. There was a globe on a table in the corner that served as storage for liquor. In another corner stood a small foldable writing desk an chair. The fireplace was already out of use, but Tristan hadn't taken the trouble to fill it with flowers, Chinese vases, Japanese fans and other popular decorations like in so many more welcoming drawing rooms.

The walls up to the dado were mint colored. Above there was busy flowery wallpaper, but the slight discoloration proved that it had belonged to the previous owner and Tristan had not bothered redecorate, safe for a few pictures on the wall: A graduation class of university students; a schoolboy Tristan with his arm around the neck of a redheaded schoolboy; a family picture of himself with his parents and three siblings; and another picture of his father.

One wall had a rather large book case, but there were not enough books to fill it up, and it held only few other decorations: one being a foot high statue of a naked young man with his arm around the neck of an eagle, whom Douglas if he had any knowledge of art history, would probably recognize as Ganymede.

Douglas focused on the doctor and reached out his own hand.  "Quite well, thank you.  And you?"  He asked with a friendly expression.  Of course, as he looked around the room, he noticed the art and pictures that were there, first.  The small statue drew his attention from the rest of the room, but it would be less than polite, to ask before checking on the wellness of the doctor first.

"I'm good, thank you?" Tristan said, shaking the man's hand. Then he gestured towards the seating area. "Please have a seat. The maid will bring up some tea in a moment."

As if on cue, the maid in question showed up with the tea, struggling to open the door while holding the tray. She barely managed to get inside without a spill, and even made it to set it down and pour the tea. "Cream? Sugar? M'lord, and Doctor?" she asked without looking at either of them. She had gained her composure while she was taking care of the tea.