Mount Pleasant

This sunny summer scent can make any day deliciously pleasant! The joy of juicy ripe mango layered with sparkling pink and ruby red grapefruit oils, given a splash of sheer coconut, lounging upon smooth tropical sandalwood.

from the letters of Selwyn Parslow to Lady Forsythia Fountainbleu, August 1820

...I note that I have only briefly mentioned the picnic which cemented my acquaintance with my brother’s friend, the Wilde boy, and that afternoon is uppermost in my mind as the weather in our fair hamlet has turned rather more torpid in these passing days, even our celebrated sea breezes do little to enliven the atmosphere. He remarked upon that day his opinion that our locale is poorly-named.

“Gladdebrooke indeed! It does not suit!” he protested.

“And what would you have us name our village then?” I asked, uncertain what to make of his brash manner. The boy is charming and yet has an air of flouting proper comportment at all times, which is no doubt overlooked by others who are entranced with his comely features.

He lay upon the ground at that moment, looking up at me standing above him, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Mount Pleasant,” he replied, his words enunciated slowly, his voice low, like the murmur of the wind. It was most unsettling, the way he looked into my eyes. I felt a flush which I likely attributed to the sun, though I am presently not so certain. “I should desire the journey to such a summit though the going may be arduous and lengthy.”

I scarcely knew what to reply, as there is no mountainous range in this region...