Elixir of a Duchess’ Passion (Preview)

Chapter One

Lady Melissa Belmont, the Duchess of Twinton, sat happily in her drawing room as always, writing in her medical journal and enjoying the peace. The only thing disturbing her was the barking coming through the door opening onto the lawn where her springer spaniel frolicked and flitted about chasing the birds and bees and just about anything else he thought he could clamp his jaws around. 

And occasionally she looked up to watch him, smiling as if she were smiling at her child, content and happy in her isolation in the Oxfordshire countryside. Scribbling and drawing away in her journal, she barely heard the brass knocker as it rang throughout the large house. Distantly, she heard the butler’s feet on the hardwood floor as he went to answer the door. 

When he arrived with a knock on the drawing-room door, she knew that whoever had come to call was not simply a delivery boy or a messenger. Leaving her journal open on the desk to allow the ink to dry, she carefully placed a spare piece of paper over the top to hide it from whoever might have come to visit. 

“Yes, Winston? Who is it?” she asked with a smile. The old butler was somewhat of a second father to her, a butler to her father before her, and she always had a smile for him. 

“Lady Daisy Melbourne, the Countess of Fenchurch, My Lady,” Winston responded with a curt little bow, always adamant about calling her guests by their proper titles even when they were such close friends as Lady Daisy.

“Oh! Well, then you must show her through, Winston,” Melissa insisted, rising to her feet and gesturing the butler out of the room with a wave of her hand. 

“Of course, My Lady.” 

With that, he was gone, returning only a moment later with Daisy following quickly behind him. She looked just as she always did, her brown hair neatly placed atop her head and her hazel eyes sparkling, petite, prim, and proper, with a friendly smile. 

“Good morning, Daisy. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Melissa asked, embracing her friend and kissing her on both cheeks.    

 “Oh, can a lady not simply wish to visit a friend?” Daisy asked as they drew apart. 

“Of course,” Melissa responded, smirking back at her. “But we both know you never go anywhere without a motive.” 

Daisy feigned shock for a moment, pressing the tips of her fingers to her open mouth as though trying to hide it. Then, she started to giggle and rolled her eyes. “You are right.” 

“Then you must sit and tell me all about it,” Melissa insisted, gesturing her friend over to the nearest armchair before she took the one opposite. “Winston, please will you send Betty up with some tea?” 

“Of course, My Lady.” 

With that, they were left alone. And it caused Daisy to look quite relieved indeed. Whatever was bothering her, it was clear that she did not wish too many ears to hear.

“Whatever is the matter, Daisy?” Melissa asked, concern clawing at her stomach. It was not often that her friend looked so forlorn. 

Before she could answer, Flit, the spaniel, came rushing into the drawing room as though he had finally realised they had a guest. And before Melissa could prevent him, he started to jump up with mucky paws all over Daisy’s fine peach gown. 

“Oh, no! Flit, get down!” Melissa scolded, grabbing hold of the scruff of his neck and dragging him away while Daisy laughed and tried to shove him down. “Daisy, I am so sorry. You must pardon him!” 

“Oh, come now, Mel, we both know he is only excited to see me,” Daisy said, brushing the dry mud from her skirts. “I wish my husband were so happy to see me when he gets home from London.” 

The deep sigh that erupted from Daisy told Melissa that her reason for being there likely had everything to do with her husband, Lord Anthony Melbourne, the Earl of Fenchurch. Melissa gritted her teeth at the thought. The two had been so in love once, inseparable and giddy in each other’s company. They had been married only a short three years, and Melissa could see their happiness slowly declining as they grew further and further apart. It broke her heart for more reasons than one, causing her to miss her own dear departed husband, Doctor Thomas Belmont.

“You know, Mel, I envy you sometimes,” Daisy said, sighing deeply all over again before gesturing around the pastel-painted drawing room. “A duchess in your own right with everything you could ever desire, yet no man about the place to make you miserable.” 

“Yes, it is wonderful having no husband and no father to tell me what to do,” Melissa said sarcastically, and the regret immediately lit up on Daisy’s face. 

“Oh, Mel, you must forgive me,” Daisy pleaded, and this time the way she placed her hand over her mouth was quite clearly real shock. “I have spoken quite out of turn.” 

Melissa shook her head and smiled at her friend, hoping to reassure her. “I am well aware my position is favourable to many, and it suits me quite well. Though I do envy you all your family sometimes.” 

She thought for a moment of the mother she had lost in childbirth. Though she had never had the chance to meet her and never got to know her nature, she had the paintings to remind her that she looked just like her. She thought of her father, the Duke of Twinton, who had left her everything, even against the advice of his lawyers. He had spoiled her from the moment she was born until the day he died of what Melissa suspected was a broken heart. He had never quite recovered from her mother’s death, and she suspected his love for her was one of the very reasons he had accepted her wish to marry Doctor Melbourne, who had no title to speak of. 

The good doctor himself did not bear thinking about too often, though he had made her exactly what she was today. She was not only a duchess but a healer, a woman of means who could help those in need without all of the stupidity that most doctors liked to push on their patients nowadays. And she had loved him dearly. He had been her best friend. 

And it pained her to hear of Daisy’s trouble with her own dear husband, though she already suspected she knew the cause.

Daisy leaned across from her chair and gripped Melissa’s hand, squeezing gently as she assured her, “You are as much family to me as anyone else.” 

With a grateful smile, Melissa squeezed her friend’s hand in return. “And you are mine.” 

It was at that moment that Betty arrived with the tea. The maid, who had been with Melissa since she was a little girl, only a couple of years older than her, took a moment to curtsey them both before placing the tea tray upon the table between them. 

“Would you like me to pour, My Lady?” she asked with a smile. 

“I think I can manage, thank you, Betty.” 

Melissa waited for the brunette to retire to the edge of the room before pouring tea for herself and her friend. “Honey?” she asked, holding up the small pot of sweet honey she had collected from her hives at the bottom of the orchard. 

“Oh, yes, please!” 

With a smile, Melissa contentedly stirred the honey into the herbal concoction of tea she had prepared herself from her herb garden and stored in the pantry along with everything else. Thanks to herself and the farmers who occupied her estate, they were all practically self-sustaining, making Melissa’s happy life of near solitude even easier.

Handing a teacup and saucer to her friend, she picked up her own and blew gently upon the top of the herbal tea before taking a delicate sip to be sure she had used enough honey. 

“Hmm … it is lovely as always,” Daisy said, taking a sip of her own. They were silent for several moments while Daisy drank a little more, and Melissa watched her, still wondering what she was doing there. 

Then, when she could wait no longer, she asked, “Surely you did not mean what you said earlier about Anthony? Has something happened between the two of you?” 

Daisy sighed at that and shook her head, placing her cup and saucer back on the table so she could stroke her hands over her skirts, clearly unable to look Melissa in the eye. 

“In all honesty, Anthony is lovely and sweet and accepting and just wonderful, as he has always been,” she admitted, playing with a loose thread upon her gown. “It is I who is the problem.” 

“Oh, I am certain that is not true,” Daisy protested. Placing her cup and saucer opposite Daisy’s, she moved slightly forward in her seat and reached for her friend’s hand again. “Tell me, what is the matter?” 

Daisy glanced at their entwined hands before offering a discreet glance over her shoulder at Betty. Clearly, she was embarrassed about whatever she had to say. 

“You may speak freely here, Daisy; you know that.”

As if she sensed the countess’s unease, Betty half-turned away with her hands clasped behind her back, looking as though she was purposefully not listening. 

“Melissa, the reason I came today is because, well, Anthony and I are struggling,” Daisy said, squeezing Melissa’s fingers so tightly that it was almost painful. “We have been trying for so long.” 

The despair in Daisy’s voice clawed at Melissa’s heart, and she gave her friend’s hand a reassuring squeeze to let her know she knew exactly what she meant. 

“It has only been a few years,” she told her gently though the words sounded a little silly even to her. It was no secret that every couple began trying for children almost immediately after their wedding, especially those at the head of a family and expected to produce an heir as soon as possible. 

“The ladies Hennel, Cranmer, and Burnington were all with child within months of being wed,” Daisy pointed out, looking at Melissa with desperation darkening her hazel gaze.

Melissa scoffed a little at that. Shaking her head, she pointed out, “Daisy, we all heard the rumours of Lady Cranmer. She was likely with child before she was wed.” 

Daisy looked shocked at Melissa’s words. Not because of the rumours themselves but at the fact Melissa had even mentioned them. Usually, she was not one for spreading idle gossip, but in this case, she felt it necessary to make her friend feel better. 

“Besides, some ladies have a better time of it than others,” she pointed out with a shrug of her shoulders. “Look at me, for example. It was not for lack of trying that Thomas and I failed.” 

A lump formed in her throat at the words, and though she knew she and Thomas had been in no rush for children, she hoped it would ease her friend’s suffering. 

“I still hold the opinion that had he not been taken so cruelly from me, we would have eventually had a little brood of our own,” she said, smiling sadly to her friend. 

“Oh, yes, I am certain you would have,” Daisy responded, nodding eagerly. She was silent only a moment before her gaze became enquiring. “I … I was wondering … might you have anything in one of your books that could help me?” 

At that, the countess glanced quickly over her shoulder at Betty again, clearly terrified that the maid might somehow let it slip somewhere that a reputable lady such as herself had come to someone like the duchess for help rather than seeking the aid of a ‘proper’ doctor. 

Melissa gritted her teeth at the sense of the thoughts going through her friend’s mind, though she couldn’t entirely blame her for them. The society within which they both were forced to live was not kind towards women like Melissa. It was the main reason she preferred her quiet life in the countryside, helping those who truly needed her, like the farmers and the other common folk who lived nearby, their wives and daughters included.

“I do not need to consult my books,” Melissa said, shaking her head. Releasing Daisy’s hand, she stood and said, “Wait here a moment.” 

The anxious look on her friend’s face grew worse as Melissa swept from the room and into her study down the hall, where she kept a cabinet of her lesser tinctures and concoctions. Scanning through them, she found the vial of herbs she had been looking for and gave them a good shake to check they were still good and the cork and wax seal still secure before she returned to the drawing room. 

“Here,” she said, handing the vial to her friend. 

“What is it?” Daisy asked, looking more than a little suspicious. Melissa rolled her eyes at her friend. Anyone would believe she thought that she was trying to poison her. 

“It is a tea. It consists of raspberry leaf, evening primrose, and a few other such things said to aid in fertility,” Melissa explained, offering her friend a reassuring smile. “All you need do is drink a couple a day.” 

An astonished look passed over Daisy’s face, and she admired the herbs in the vial more closely. “And you’re sure it will work?”

Melissa gritted her teeth. Dropping back into her seat, she readjusted her gown and got herself properly situated before responding, “I cannot say for certain that it will work. It is an aid, not a cure. But I can say that I have seen success in other women.” 

“Oh, wonderful!” Daisy exclaimed, clearly pleased with the answer. She pulled open the drawstrings of her purse and stashed the vial inside before reaching for her teacup and saucer again. 

Melissa half expected for her to drain her drink and make her excuses, having got what she had come for, just as many of her other clients did. But instead, Daisy asked, “Have you heard the news?” 

 Melissa scowled. “Daisy, you know I do not often get news out here.” 

“Well, you ought to have got this news,” Daisy said, looking quite excited at whatever she had to tell her. Before Melissa could say a word, she added, “You are to have a new neighbour! They say he could arrive as early as tomorrow.” 

“The old Vexton place?” Melissa asked. It was the only estate right next to her own, that she was certain was not occupied. Immediately, Daisy nodded. 

“They say he is a very wealthy, very handsome, and very eligible bachelor,” Daisy announced, her brown brows wiggling as though she were trying to imply something.   

“I am certain he is,” Melissa said nonchalantly. “Most of the men talked about among the ton are.” 

She picked up her cup and saucer and took a sip, holding both in her hand in an attempt to relax against this new line of conversation. She could already tell exactly where her friend was going with it. 

“Do you not think you have been alone long enough?” Daisy asked, and the words caused Melissa to cringe. 

With a deep sigh, Melissa shook her head. “I am in no rush to find myself attached once more. Besides, what need have I of a man when as you have said yourself, I have everything that a woman could possibly want or need here.” 

She leaned down to rub Flit behind his ears as he sat leaning against her armchair, still panting as though the day’s warmth was troubling him. 

“As much as Flit is a very handsome boy and a sweet companion,” Daisy said, speaking as though she wanted to be certain the black and white spaniel knew she was talking about him, “do you not feel a need for a little more … human companionship?” 

“I have Betty and Winston and Mrs Marks and all the other servants,” Melissa pointed out, and her friend’s only response was to cock her head to one side with a deep scowl, looking as though Melissa had all but proven her point. Through gritted teeth, Melissa added, “I do not feel the need for any more companionship.” 

Though she spoke firmly, there was a small niggle in her stomach that told her she wasn’t entirely telling the truth. Sometimes she missed the evenings she had once spent in the study reading while her husband went about his business at his desk, neither of them talking but quite content in each other’s company. Sometimes she even missed the little disagreements they had once shared. But no matter how many of his medical books she looked in, there was no way to bring him back, and she was in no rush to replace him as many other women might have felt to do in her situation. 

“I am content to be alone,” Melissa reassured when her friend still looked entirely unconvinced. “If the right man were to come along, then perhaps I might consider it, but I shall not go in search of him.” 

Again, she was lying slightly, though the thought of allowing herself to open her heart again to a man scared the living daylights out of her. She remembered all too strongly the grief and betrayal she had felt when she had sat at her husband’s deathbed only to learn that he had known months before that she would be sitting there. She had been unable to curse at him and call him all the names under the sun out of respect for her dying husband but looking back upon it now, she wished that she had. Maybe then he might have known how much he had truly hurt her. 

Though she still felt him near her now, reflected in all her good works from her research into medical studies and putting that research into action wherever she could. Though he was dead and buried, he was still very much a large part of her life, and in that way, she was thankful to him. He had given her a purpose other than being a fine and noble lady. And she would not tarnish his good memory by searching out an incompetent suitor just for what people might think. 

“How will you ever stumble upon him if you never leave your estate?” Daisy protested, her scowl deepening. Melissa grunted a little angrily. This was not a new conversation. It was one they had shared many times over and one that she did not entirely wish to continue over again. “This Lord Spurnrose is said to be quite the charmer.” 

“Daisy, how is it that you always manage to come by such gossip?” she demanded, attempting to change the subject. At that, her friend wiggled her brow. 

“You know very well how I come by my information.” 

Melissa’s insides twisted. She was well aware how easily news spread all over the country, seeping out from London like a poison. She had often found herself the subject of such gossip, especially now that she had no husband or father to ‘protect’ her. Yet, society did not know that she did not care what they thought of her. So long as she helped those who truly needed her, Melissa would continue to do as she pleased while she had blood in her veins and the means to do so. 

“I would hope that you were not one of the women spreading it,” Melissa said sternly, giving her friend a scolding expression. 

“Me? Never!” 

Together the women laughed, and Melissa was relieved to see she had managed to dissuade the conversation of Lord Spurnrose, at least for a while. 

By the time she and Daisy had gone over all the other small subjects of conversation that Daisy usually brought up, gossip she’d heard at the dressmakers, the concerns over the weather, and who was to be married so far this year, Melissa was more than ready to stop listening.

And as soon as she had said her farewells to her friend, having Winston show her out, Melissa turned to Betty and said with a deep sigh of relief, “Please, will you fetch my bonnet and basket? I wish to go out foraging and get some fresh air.”

“Yes, My Lady.” 

Betty hurried away, and Melissa dropped down into a crouch before Flit, grabbing his face in both hands and rubbing behind his ears. “Shall we go for a walk, my beautiful boy?” 

 

Chapter Two

Viscount Elijah Spurnrose, eldest son to the Earl of Durham, was not best pleased to have been banished to Oxfordshire from London, though he did have to admit the area held a certain beauty. And just the day after arriving at the estate his father had ‘gifted’ to him with the intention of his retiring there until things cooled down in London, he rode out with his cousin, Harold, hoping the fresh air might clear his shattered mind. 

Of late, he had been doing everything he could to stop from thinking. It was likely the very reason he got himself into so much trouble that his father had banished him from society. It might also have a little to do with the scandal he had caused with the daughter of another nobleman, though it was not nearly so drastic as everyone was making it out to be, nothing that he could not overcome. At least, given time—time he did not have. However, his father knew nothing of that, so he could not blame him for his punishment. 

Perhaps being out here shall be better for me anyway, he thought as he kicked his horse into a canter and allowed the great black stallion to carry him across the outer fields of his brand-new estate. If he were to be banished to such a beautiful place, he would damn well enjoy it while he still could. 

“Elijah! Don’t go too fast!” Harold called after him, sounding almost breathless as though he were struggling to keep up on his own smaller stallion. 

The man’s words only made Elijah more determined, and he kicked Tempest just a little harder into a full gallop, throwing his arms wide and giving the horse all the reins to go where he pleased. He cried out with elation, enjoying the feel of the wind in his auburn hair. 

“Elijah! Pull up!” 

Again he ignored his cousin, having no intention of doing so until a line of trees came into view at the bottom of a small hillock. Using the reins to turn the stallion slightly, he pulled back to slow him, not wishing to end up in the brambles or find himself de-saddled by a tree limb. 

As his cousin finally managed to catch up with him, he felt the sudden and familiar pain beginning to clench his stomach, and knowing what would soon follow, he pulled Tempest to an abrupt halt. Harold’s stallion almost ran right into his own horse’s rear, Harold only just managing to steer him out of the way in time. 

“You’re a madman!” Harold protested, gasping for breath as he drew to a halt a little ahead of Elijah and turned his horse back to face him. “What the hell was that?” 

Elijah shrugged, gritting his teeth against the growing pain in his stomach and trying not to show his cousin anything was wrong. 

“I was just teasing you,” he lied, not yet ready to let Harold know the knowledge that, as yet, only he, his doctors, and his mother knew. Silently, all he could do was pray that another episode of illness was not looming. With each episode, he felt the talons of death gripping tighter around his throat. Perhaps if his family knew they would be more lenient with all the decisions he had chosen to make of late, but his cousin already looked at him as though he was a madman. He couldn’t bear the thought of how he might look at him if he knew the truth. It was better for everyone to believe him a roguish rake than a sick and pitiful man worthy of their sympathies. 

Harold looked as though he was about to speak, his mouth opening and bottom lip quivering, but before he could do so, they were both caught by someone yelling from the woodland beyond. 

“Flit! Come back here!” 

Elijah turned in his saddle to see a black-and-white blur race from the tree line. It darted in and out of the bushes, taking Elijah a few moments to realise that it was a dog, a spaniel, to be exact. And as he watched, a woman appeared, snatching her brown silken skirts away from the clutches of a bramble bush she had walked a little too close to. 

“Flit!” she yelled again, seeming not to have noticed Elijah and his cousin where they had halted just at the top of the hillock once more. 

Elijah watched her as she walked the tree line, following the spaniel without any real urgency. Clearly, the dog was one for chasing squirrels as she did not seem too fazed at his running off in such an unruly manner, barking and yapping at whatever he believed he was chasing. 

And though it was the dog making the most noise, the woman caught Elijah’s full attention. Even from such a distance, her beauty caught him off guard. The blonde curls beneath her brown bonnet gleamed in the dappled sunshine filtering through the outer branches of the tree line, and what little he saw of her face was creamy-skinned. With a womanly, curvaceous figure and an outwardly confident manner, she was quite simply breathtaking. 

Who is she? he thought, biting his lip as a wonderment of uncouth thoughts crossed his mind. Of late, he had allowed his thoughts to wander where women were concerned, determined to have as much fun as humanly possible before it was too late for him. Perhaps she is a neighbour. I would certainly like to get to know her better. 

But at the back of his mind, he remembered the damage he had already done back in London and the pain he had caused his parents. His actions had to change. He would not be remembered in Oxford the same way that he would be in London. 

As though his cousin did not believe he could control himself, Harold warned, “Stay away from her, cousin. She is like the deadly nightshade flower.” 

At that, Elijah turned to his cousin, utterly intrigued. With a raised eyebrow, he asked, “What is that to mean?” 

“She is extremely beautiful and extremely dangerous. It would not do to get involved with a woman like that.” 

The sheer distaste on his cousin’s face was enough to pique Elijah’s interest all the more, and he scoffed, thinking that his cousin was most definitely going the wrong way about warning him away from her. 

“Who is she?” 

Harold, who spent most of his time in Oxfordshire, clearly knew the woman well. At least, Elijah could guess so from the warning and the disgusted look on his face. Though Harold couldn’t imagine how such a beautiful woman had elicited such a reaction in Harold, who was usually so mild-mannered. 

“She is Lady Melissa Belmont, the Duchess of Twinton,” Harold explained, and Elijah thought he saw his cousin actually tremble with disgust as he spoke. “The daughter of the late Duke of Twinton and widow to Doctor Thomas Belmont.” 

Now Elijah was even more intrigued. It was quite clear that the woman had a colourful past, not at all the kind of lady one usually met. Though Elijah was sure he had heard her name mentioned before, he could not quite recall where he had heard it, though from the look on Harold’s face, it couldn’t have been for anything good. 

“What is the matter, Harold? Does such a beautiful, confident, and wealthy woman frighten you?” 

Elijah saw his cousin’s Adam’s apple jump as though he was gulping past a sudden lump in his throat. “They say that after her husband died, she continued his work. They say she is a practitioner of the dark arts.” 

Elijah scoffed, biting back open laughter with a glance towards the woodland when he realised that Lady Belmont had disappeared, though he could still hear her calling in the distance and guessed he would likely see her again before their ride was done. Especially if her dog continued to flit in and out of the woodland. He could certainly see how the dog had got his name. 

“Are you saying she is a witch?” Elijah laughed openly then, unable to stop himself at the ridiculousness of what Harold had just said. 

“Do not laugh at such things,” Harold advised, shaking his head. “The doctors in London and others all across the country refuse to have her name uttered in their presence, and for good reason! Her practises are often dangerous. Though the women talk of her very highly.” 

This time, Harold scoffed as though anything women spoke highly of was utterly ridiculous unless a man backed it up. Elijah opened his mouth to point out that they had known a few very smart women in their time, but before he could do so, he started coughing. Knowing all too well what he would find in the palm of his hand when he removed it, he grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and quickly wiped it away before his cousin could see. 

Perhaps she could help me, Elijah thought absentmindedly, though he quickly forced the thought away. Nobody could help him now. 

Shoving his bloodied handkerchief back into his pocket, he gripped his reins again and glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Lady Belmont had appeared again though her dog was finally walking calmly at her side. She looked quite content, her basket filled with flowers and plants, and Elijah wondered whether they were related to the ‘dark arts’ that Harold had mentioned. Again, he laughed a little under his breath. 

Then he turned to Harold and sighed. “Come. We should continue before Lady Belmont starts believing we are watching her.” 

Harold smirked at that and nodded his agreement. He turned his horse and began to lead the way back towards the manor, saying over his shoulder, “Your father would be pleased to hear you are using your head and not your member for once.” 

“I’m sure I don’t quite know what you mean.” 

At that, Harold looked over his shoulder again and his eyes darkened, scowling deeply. “We both know you caused quite a stir in London. Let’s not pretend otherwise.” 

“Then let us not pretend otherwise that you have not been sent to keep an eye on me,” Elijah said, and Harold looked a little stunned. Elijah did not allow him to attempt to protest before he tightened his grip on the reins and spurred Tempest on. Racing past Harold and his horse, Majesty, he yelled over his shoulder, “And to do that, you’ve got to try and keep up!”

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“Elixir of a Duchess’ Passion” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Duchess Melissa Belmont is an unconventional woman, shunned by the ton for her skills in medicine and herbs. Despite her beauty and power, she has been scorned by love after her late husband’s betrayal. Yet, when the devilishly handsome Lord Elijah Spurnrose enters her life, her long-suppressed desires are suddenly ignited. Driven by her intense attraction to the enigmatic lord, Melissa embarks on a perilous journey to cure his incurable illness, risking everything she holds dear.

Will her healing powers prove strong enough to bring him back from the brink of death?

Viscount Elijah Spurnrose, the eldest son of the Earl of Durham has lived a life of reckless abandon, indulging in all the pleasures that society has to offer. Suffering from a supposedly deadly illness, he resigns himself to living out the rest of his roguish life on his own terms. However, when he is sent to the countryside he never imagined he would find the elixir of life and love in the face of the bewitching Melissa. As her touch reignites a flame within him that he thought had long been extinguished, he realises that his condition is counting down to the day when he will lose everything.

Can he truly escape the clutches of mortality, though?

In a world of rigid societal rules, where scandal and rumours can destroy reputations, Melissa and Elijah’s love affair is an act of defiance. As she risks everything to cure him, they both fight against the constraints of their status and the norms of high society. Yet, as their burning love deepens, so do the obstacles they face. Can their passion defy the prejudices that stand in their way? Will they be able to withstand the pressures of the ton, or will their love crumble under the weight of society’s expectations?

“Elixir of a Duchess’ Passion” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

Get your copy from Amazon!