Penhaligons – The Ruthless Countess Dorothea Eau de Parfum
€313,33 / 100 ml
incl. 20% VAT plus Shipping Costs
A most ferocious matriarch, known for her sharp mind, even sharper wit and a secret fondness for the company of young men and scones!
A fragrance that has impeccable manners. Refined and thoroughly reassuring. Both are misleading.
Revenge. It’s even better than biscuits.
Smell: Sharp citrus. Fresh and earthy. Rounded and warm
The fluidity of a zesty Bergamot, combined with the texture of mate and sage, blended together to give a natural tea leaf effect.
A drop of sherry, melting with the delicious spiciness of gingerbread buiscuits, spicy ginger, cinnamon and beeswax.
The unctuosity of a creamy vanilla and a voluptuous cashmeran, finally enveloping the signature like a milky cloud.
“How terribly modern”
The Ruthless Count Dorothea, better known to the few friends she keeps as ‘The Trustworthy Countess’, is far more colourful than her pallid complexion might first have you believe. “These ‘society’ circles aren’t for the faint hearted. And being the gate-keeper really is more than a full-time job.”
Known for her acerbic tongue and obsession with proper ‘British’ etiquette you’ll never catch the terrifying matriarch uttering anything close to a curse word or reclining into a slouch. “We’ve considered every single detail of the estate. I want nothing ‘modern’, I have no time for all these new fangled tricks and technologies. People need to appreciate what they have in front of them in the… real world. Like these butter biscuits.”
Perhaps the only time you’ll catch The Count loosening her corset, and her usually puckered lips, is after her post-dinner sherry. While reputation is everything to the Queen of the few remaining aristocrats, tearing other people’s down is her chosen past time: an art she’s perfected over years of practice. “Secrets.” Dorothy pinches. “Secrets are for the weak. If you’re going to spill your business, don’t expect me to clean the mess.”
While the Countess has herself been tied to many a county-wide scandal, she can nip a rumour in the bud quicker than her incredibly loyal groundskeeper can trim her rosebush. “Scandal, my dear? I think you’re confusing me with other, less careful, women in this circle.” If there’s anything one can learn from a life so lean of emotion yet so full of torrid transgression, it’s that playing puppet master is a much more delicate game than one might assume. A game that Countess Dorothea is not to be challenged at.
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