I’m going to cheat this week and just post a double length snippet as I am busy on my holidays with the important task of sand castle making… Enjoy.
He’d forgotten all about the mirror.
It was completely underhanded to look; a despicable, contemptible thing to do. Appalling even, or worse, it was dishonourable. He sank back to his chair with his teeth gritted and his gaze averted from the reflection.
He lasted about ten seconds.
Perhaps a peek wasn’t really so bad. One of the essential perquisites of being a rake was that rakes were allowed to bend the rules, providing no one found out, of course.
He looked back to the mirror. She was standing with her back to him, one arm outstretched with her fingers touching the rolled edge of the copper bath. Her hair had been unpinned and had fallen forward over her shoulders, leaving only a single short curl resting against the nape of her neck.
Poor defenceless little curl, it wasn’t fair to leave it all alone. He wanted to run his finger along the glossy ringlet’s length, allowing the strands to momentarily twist and claim him.
The rest of her was out of view; there was only a teasing glimpse of her shoulder before the flawless ivory ran into the tarnished frame of the mirror. Edward would have given his right foot to have a bigger mirror. He straightened up, glad for once for every inch of his height, and craned his neck to an unnatural angle.
The mirror’s image dropped to reveal Betty in all her glory. Well, not as much of her glory as he would have liked, but the undergarments certainly showed a lot of promise: an alluring creation of peak silk damask, figured with roses and trimmed with a delicate hint of lace.