It had been mid-evening, four days later when Mr. McClaren had come to Bethina's house, asking her for a second interview. This time with the Mistress. Though her mother had been alarmed, she'd happily packed off with the mustached man, leaving promises that she'd be home soon.
That was the first time she'd met Jesslynn. The woman was tall with thick black hair and cold, dark eyes. Both her bearing and attitude were that of a regal queen. There was something in the way she held her head, lifted her chin, turned her neck that made Bethina think of ancient royalty.
Jesslynn hadn't taken her hand, or offered a friendly gesture, only pointed to a chair and instructed her to sit down. Once Bethina had taken her seat, the woman had surveyed her in silence. Bethina wasn't sure how long it laste