By Elspeth Morrow, Lifestyle Correspondent
STIPPLEMEAD — The air in this sleepy hamlet is perfumed with lavender, its purple fields rolling across the horizon like a painted quilt. For nearly three decades, Margot and Alaric Penwyck have cultivated these blossoms, their farm producing the sachets, oils, and soaps that have become a staple of Eyehasseen summer markets.
“We’ve always thought of lavender as more than a flower,” said Margot, guiding me through the rows with a wicker basket in hand. “It’s medicine, memory, and comfort all wrapped into one.”
Indeed, the Penwycks are considered the custodians of an ancient plot. Local records trace lavender cultivation here to the 14th century, when Benedictine monks grew it for salves and tinctures. “The monks used it to soothe soldiers returning from the Storm Wars,” Alaric added. “That same lineage continues in every sprig you see here.”
But lately, rumors have circulated through the village: whispers that the Penwycks have expanded their craft beyond sachets and soaps. Specifically, that lavender from these fields has been making its way into an experimental lavender whiskey.
When asked about it, Margot laughed. “Whiskey? From lavender? That’s absurd.” Alaric shook his head firmly: “We are farmers, not distillers. People do like to invent stories.”
And yet, as we circled behind the farmhouse, the truth peeked through the morning haze. There, against the outbuilding, stood a copper still, its coil catching the sunlight.
I gestured toward it. “That looks remarkably like a distilling apparatus.”
The couple stiffened. “This interview is over,” Alaric said sharply, stepping between me and the view. Margot folded her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Please leave our property immediately.”
As I turned to depart, the scent of lavender mingled unmistakably with the faint tang of alcohol on the breeze.