Chapter 16 Pretty Little Things

THE DINING ROOM at Tonfield hall, like every other thing in the house, reflected wealth and elegance. A testament to the fact the earl was worth forty-five thousand pounds a year. The room which was draped in red velvet, marble, and gold was illuminated by a chandelier, hanging over their heads like a blanket of light, creating a soft warm glow on the dining table and all other places forgotten by the candelabra.

Cutleries clinked and clanged on simple ceramics as quiet conversions filled the room. The guests helping themselves to different assorted foods placed in front of them and those that weren't within reach were passed around by the footmen. However, sitting at the foot of the long table was lord Tonfield. His long slim fingers holding a pair of silverware in a death grip, wishing it was someone's wrist. Rows of even white teeth clenched tightly behind pursed lips.

The Earl was beyond angry, and he knew that. With the way things were progressing, he wasn't even