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Lady Trayhurn’s Transgression
     
    by
     
    Mary Alice
Williamson
     
    ****
     
    This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons
living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental .
     
    LADY TRAYHURN’S TRANSGRESSION
    COPYRIGHT 2012 by Mary Alice Williamson
     
    Published by Sybarite Seductions, an
imprint of Twenty or Less Press. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without
written permission of the author or Sybarite Seductions.
     
    Contact Information:
    [email protected]
    Visit us at sybariteseductions.com
     
    Book Cover Design by ZenD
    Sensual
young blonde adult Caucasian woman, wrapped in a satin, silk sheet COPYRIGHT
Sean Nel / 123rf.com
     
    ****
     
    Dedication
     
    To my girl, Shellee
Smythe, for going along with me on this crazy, mixed-up plan.
     
    ****
     
    Lady Trayhurn’s
Transgression
     
     
     
     
    May 1818, a townhouse in Grosvenor
Square
     
    Lady Lydia
Trayhurn, wife to the Earl of Coventry, smiled as she read her brother’s
letter. Written in his bold, meticulous script, she had no trouble picturing
the scene he’d described. “What a scandal, Phyllis,” she said to her
middle-aged lady’s maid. “It seems Lord Danver has been something of a naughty
boy lately.”
    “He’s coming out of
mourning. Perhaps it couldn’t be helped.” Phyllis moved a small, marble-topped
table to sit beside the copper bathtub. The table’s gilded legs winked in the
lamplight. “A man such as Lord Danver has needs, I’m sure.”
    “Of course men have
needs, you silly goose.” Her brother—her younger brother by a year—had barely
turned thirty. With his wife dead for over a year and sick for a long time
before that, he probably had more frustrated oats to sow than wild ones. Lydia
shook the letter. He’d always attempted to shock her with the scrapes in his
life. “He admits to rutting with a parlor maid a few weeks ago. A servant! Just
imagine the gossip if it’s found out.” She trusted Phyllis implicitly and
didn’t think twice about tearing her brother’s reputation to ribbons in the
maid’s company.
    “The Viscount most
likely brokered a deal or made lofty promises. The girl won’t talk.” Phyllis
padded around the room plumping bed pillows, closing window drapes, and finally
stoking the fire that would ward off the spring cold as well as keep Lydia’s
bath pleasantly warm. By the time the woman placed the gilded screen in front
of the hearth Lydia had folded the letter and tucked it into a book on the
bedside table.
    Lydia rolled her
eyes. “But relations with a maid? I cannot believe he
would do such a thing.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her thin cotton
wrap wasn’t enough to keep the chill away.
    “Need and urges
aren’t divided by class.” Phyllis placed a round of soap on the marble-topped
table along with a book of poetry and a bathing sponge. “These things happen
all the time.”
    “You might be
correct.”
    Phyllis nodded. “It’s
quite common for the titled to indulge in indiscretions with their staff.” The
maid shrugged. “Those in domestic employ have little choice. Ask your husband
if you don’t believe me.”
    Lydia pursed her
lips. No matter that Phyllis had been with her since she’d wed, hinting at the
Earl’s less than austere behavior was beyond the pale. “You overstep, Phyllis.”
    “I apologize.” The
maid crossed to an armoire. “I’ll set out your Oriental silk dressing gown for
you.”
    “Thank you.” She
perched on the edge of the bathtub and stuck a hand into the water. Her
marriage to Lord Trayhurn had been essentially in name only. He’d never shown
more than a passing interest in her as a woman or a bed partner, especially
since she’d been unable to carry a child to term. Had he begat