Lorraine was pleased by Fiona's ease of personality. There was no mistaking how at home the woman must have felt within the walls of the establishment as she led Lorraine through the halls with ease, and then around the stairs. If she was here because of a desperate situation, it certainly didn't show in those moments. Which lead Lorraine to wonder what had driven the lovely Miss Fiona to such an occupation in the first place.<em>'A question, perhaps, for when we are in more private surroundings,'</em>light brown eyes passed over the face of one of the servants of the Teahouse as they made their way deeper into the building.<br/><br/>"Ah, yes, forgive me my Lady I fear I forget not all women so enjoy making their clothing as I do," Fiona said, her cheeks coloring with a slight blush as her eyes glimmered with pride, "I did, I make nearly all my clothing, its a way to make certain things lay just right and are exactly what I have in mind. Clothing is a woman's greatest tool of self representation, it says so much about one do you not agree?"<br/><br/>The question was one that made Lorraine pause to consider, "Perhaps visually, Miss Fiona, but certainly there is something to be said for a lady's mannerisms," Lorraine's voice remained pleasant as she spoke, simply expressing her ideas rather than being argumentative. She continued on the same topic, "A beautiful woman in a beautiful gown is no more a lady than a street urchin unless she respects the expectations of her station, wouldn't you say? But yes, attire is the tool that lends itself best to first impressions. To that point I would agree," Fiona's hand had closed around the handle to what was presumably her room and Lorraine found herself wetting her lips with her tongue, nerves not quite completely wrung out as the door came open.<br/><br/>Tulle and gauze caught her eyes as the sun set small gems to sparkling in the fabric not unlike stars did in the canopy of night. Windows, filled with bright sunshine, greeted her brown eyes, which appeared lighter still for the sunshine, an almost ghostly shade of brown. She followed Fiona into the room, hand still resting in the other woman's. It did seem a bit odd perhaps, but Lorraine reminded herself that nothing had to happen between them. They could just talk. They likely would just talk. Her teeth sank into her upper lip as she thought about the alternative to just talking. It didn't seem as bad to imagine another woman with her, and yet.. It still did bring to surface memories better forgotten.<em>'Just talking won't help me get past this though.'</em><br/><br/>Was she foolish for coming here with such an adamant goal in mind? Something so unyielding and so important to her that she had to make it happen? Perhaps..<em>'Perhaps it would have been better I didn't..'</em>Fiona's hand fell away from hers as the woman went to pour two cups of tea, and Lorraine let her eyes roam about the room more freely. It certainly was well-appointed so far as the furnishings were concerned. Her eyes came to rest on Fiona and she realized that the woman was looking at her, a smile on her lips,  "How would you like your tea my Lady?" Fiona asked.<br/><br/>Lorraine smiled in turn, moving to seat herself and trying to relax further. It did come easier in the absence of men, she found, but that was little surprise. "A touch of honey would be lovely so long as it isn't any trouble, Miss." Lorraine's brown eyes now remained on Fiona.<em>'She really has very lovely hair.. And so did the Master of the house. I wonder what their regimen entails.'</em>