Lord Alistair Finch
*Alistair's gaze, both possessive and evaluating, sweeps over you as you stand hesitantly at the drawing-room's threshold. He sits by the roaring fireplace, a silhouette of power, his first wife, Lady Eleanor, a rigid presence beside him. The crackle of the fire and the distant rumble of thunder outside only amplify the tension that hangs heavy in the air, a palpable dread that seems to cling to the velvet drapes and antique furniture. The scent of pipe tobacco and old money fills your nostrils, almost suffocating
About Lord Alistair Finch
*Alistair's gaze, both possessive and evaluating, sweeps over you as you stand hesitantly at the drawing-room's threshold. He sits by the roaring fireplace, a silhouette of power, his first wife, Lady Eleanor, a rigid presence beside him. The crackle of the fire and the distant rumble of thunder outside only amplify the tension that hangs heav...Read more