He had shushed her. That made her a little mad, to be frank. It was obvious that the girl didn't want to do any harm and didn't want to keep stolen money either. Pippa still looked at the letter like it was on fire when the girl handed it to her though. She hesitated at first, and then followed the instructions of the letter. She began to read it out loud when necessary. So the woman was a pirate? She had never seen a pirate before.

"And you prefer prison?!" Tristan said exasperated. He still didn't know what to think. He was irritated with Pippa for taking the letter, but it allowed him to cross the last bit of floor between him and the table. He grabbed the dagger.

Then he turned and listened, half to the letter, half to see if there was anyone else in the house.

What the hell. So she had been kidnapped? Spanish gold doubloons? The Crimson Ghost? This all sounded very shady. He held up the dagger. "Put your hands up."

"He's gone..."

The fog was getting heavier. The Captain was her father? This entire time?! Her breathing increased as she tried to make sense of what Pippa had just read. He did abandon her. The crew allowed it. Vigdis took the second envelope and found the bank notes as promised. Lost eyes looked at Pippa, confusion knitted through them. A myriad of emotions flowed through her, emotions she had not experienced before or knew how to process.

Tristan spoke and Vigdis' face turned toward him. His words seemed so far away, echoing through a tunnel. He held the dagger, the one her Captain... her father... had left her. She didn't comprehend what he was doing with the dagger. "What?" Big dark doe eyes stared at him, her breath becoming more and more labored. "I don't understand..." her words were almost a whisper.

"I don't think she is here to hurt anybody, Doctor," she said softly, "Perhaps you should put the knife down. She's in distress..." She didn't like having to talk him down from using a knife like this, but she didn't want him to regret it either. She cared. She could relate to the blonde, having lost her whole family too... but not like that. Not abandonment. Her mouth curled downward and tears threatened to spill. "Talk to her..." she whispered.

Tristan looked from Pippa to the intruder and back. He wanted to believe that the young woman was innocent. And he did, in part, now that he looked at her. Pippa was right. He had seen enough emotion in his career to recognize a person on the verge of a breakdown. But adrenaline was still rushing through his body, not helped by the memory of the story Tobias had told him about how he had been mugged and violently beaten.

He wanted to be certain that this was not a diversion. Still holding the dagger, he walked over to the window, opened it and stared down at the street below. No one there. No one on the roof. He turned. "We'll go downstairs." That way, he could see if there was someone in the house, and if not, it would be easier to deal with her in the drawing room with a sofa and brandy at hand, than here. He began to usher them towards the staircase, not letting go of the weapon for now.

If they complied, he checked the rooms below, before leading them into the drawing room. There he set the dagger down, though far out of Vigdis' reach. "You may sit down," he told them, and he poured three glasses of brandy and offered them each one. He stared intently at the intruder. Perhaps she was truly insane.

Pippa's voice came through the fog a bit clearer than the Doctor's. He had her Captain's dagger... why did he have it? It crossed her mind to take it back. He may not have taught her how to be a proper lady, but he did teach her how to disarm someone. And Tristan didn't seem like the type that could cut an apple, let alone another human being with intent to harm.

"He can hold it, if it makes him feel better," Vigga spoke to Pippa. Her words were slower than usual, not that Pippa would know what her usual was yet. Even under duress, Vigdis' didn't feel threatened by Tristan.

When the direction to move downstairs came, Vigga looked at Tristan and then back to the brunette. She followed Pippa. Through all of the emotions that were swirling inside her, she had decided she liked the other young woman. She was nice and she was glad the gold coin was for her and not the psycho wielding a dagger he didn't know how to use.

Walking down the stairs and sitting on the couch seemed to help the fog some. The brandy a bit more. She rolled the words from the letter over and over around in her head. She was marooned. Grey Rob was her father. She had a mother. And a brother!

"I have a brother?" Vigdis' spoke after a moment, her brows knit together. "I don't remember anything but living on that ship. They said I'd been orphaned and a coupla them felt bad so they took me on. Every man aboard was me mate, me brother... but that letter... the Captain..." Her words trailed off and she looked down at the amber liquid in the glass. The Captain was her father!? The fog was threatening to thicken again. Vigdis tossed back the rest of the brandy. It was smooth. A lot smoother than the grog they drank on the ship, or cheap alcohol purchased at seedy taverns along their journey.

Tristan sat down on the chair furthest away from her and downed his brandy. He could feel it burning in his throat. What the hell was going on?! He watched her, but didn't say anything.

Pippa looked at the brandy, not sure she wanted to drink. But then it seemed appropriate at the time. She tossed her glass back as she saw the others do, then coughed as the liquid burned down her throat. She hoped that this wouldn't cause her to lose her job, by having read that letter that is. She was already off to a rough start when it came to cooking. The house was immaculately clean but she burnt food.

Everyone was so quiet. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Even when most everyone was asleep, a ship was never quiet. Even anchored there were sounds. Water lapped the sides. Ropes and wood creaked. The night watch often sang, though horribly off-key. God, she needed another drink.

Standing up, she found the decanter of brandy. The words continued to roll around in her head, over and over again. Vigdis wasn't stupid or insane. She usually didn't have to be told something twice... when she wanted. Without making a single move toward the dagger, she brought the bottle back to the small group and refilled the glasses... probably a little more than three fingers worth for each. With the bottle still in one hand and her glass in the other, she curled up on the couch next to Pippa, sitting cross-legged. "He said I'm supposed to stay here and learn to be proper? In a town I ain't been to only once a coupla years... where I don't know a single soul? How the fuck do I do that?"

She was starting to get her head back, the fog clearing even more. "Most people ain't too helpful unless somethin' init for them anyways... Like the "Good" Doctor here. I come for help, offer a truce, and ya still lose yer marbles. I ain't meant for this world... I don't know how to be in this world." At first, there was anger in her voice. But it changed, sounding more lost than anything else. Her eyes dropped down. She didn't cry. Pirates don't cry.

Tristan was absolutely stupefied at the young woman's audacity. So much so, that he didn't utter a word when she helped herself to more brandy.

Definitely one for the asylum.

And then she opened her mouth and it got worse. He rose. "You steal a full two pounds from an innocent traveler. Then you break into his home in the dead of night, armed, and start making demands. Then you help yourself to his liquor and swear on top of that. And yet you expect him to help you. With all due respect, Miss, you should be glad the good doctor hasn't called the constable on you yet."

He could see that she was upset, but Tristan himself was definitely not amused.