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  Black spruce, tonka bean, snow-laden evergreens, iced sandalwood, orris root, pear blossom, and the dim glow of scarlet musk.

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  Old Scratch Perfume Oil

  Old Nick, the Devil himself, as seen through the eyes of Victorian New England. A jaunty, dapper scent, deceptively genteel: a lavender fougere with tonka, amber, rosewood and a whiff of diabolical patchouli.

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  Tristran Perfume Oil

  Tristran put down his wooden cup of tea, and stood up, offended.

  “What,” he asked, in what he was certain were lofty and scornful tones, “would possibly make you imagine that my lady-love would have sent me on some foolish errand?”

  The little man stared up at him with eyes like beads of jet. “Because that’s the only reason a lad like you would be stupid enough to cross the border into Faerie. The only ones who ever come here from your lands are the minstrels, and the lovers, and the mad. And you don’t look like much of a minstrel, and you’re – pardon me saying so, lad, but it’s true – ordinary as cheese-crumbs. So it’s love, if you ask me.”

  “Because,” announces Tristran, “every lover is in his heart a madman, and in his head a minstrel.”

  Dust on your trousers, mud on your boots, and stars in your eyes: redwood, tonka bean, white sandalwood, lemon peel, patchouli, rosewood, coriander, and crushed mint.

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  Mr. Croup Perfume Oil

  ‘A fox and a wolf’, thought Richard, involuntarily. The man in front, the fox, was a little shorter than Richard. He had lank, greasy hair, of an unlikely orange color, and a pallid complexion; as Richard opened the door, he smiled, widely, and just a fraction too late, with teeth that looked like an accident in a graveyard.

  Pompous and predatory: tonka bean, black musk, bourbon geranium, and crushed porcelain.

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