He watches Pippa's eyes, laden with old heartache and bright with determination. "I don't blame you," he says softly. "Parents who'd count opinion and rumor as more important than their own child's needs ... I don't blame you for not wanting to be like them. They don't sound worthy of anyone's emulation."

His own eyes warm at her compliment. "Oh yes. I'll not deny that I was very lucky in the parental lottery." Rory shifts his chair so that he can slide an arm around Pippa, then leans over to press a kiss against her temple. "I'd like you to meet my father some time. You'd like him, I'm sure, and I know he'll like you."