Foreword
The grass always seems to be greener on upper crust lawns. And the key word is "seems." More often than not, this is not the case at all.
It wasn't the case for Serena, who married her way up in the world in order to have some of the finer things in life. She had all the things she wanted but one-cock. And a little frill to sexuality which Serena, always a swinger when she was young, used to enjoy.
Well, it wasn't exactly a frill. It was more like a lash, or a leather belt. Serena did enjoy a little pain with her pleasure.
But Serena was trapped in a gilded cage, with two children she didn't know how to raise, and a husband who seemed more or less indifferent to her, and probably would have died of shock if he knew what was really bothering her.
He knew the marriage wasn't up to par, but then it wasn't the pits, either. Mr. James Charles Simon Caruthers was busy building an empire, and his wife and children were part of his domain. He cared for them and he brought the money home, and he was discreet about his philandering, so why should Serena fuss over a cooled off affair.
And so it would have continued, if Serena hadn't decided that the kids were just too much for her, and hired a French governess for them. Marie opened a can of worms, and fanned the flame, long dormant in Serena's breast.