The English countryside has long captivated those in search of quiet grandeur, and for one couple, it was a moment beneath the soft spring sun that sealed their decision. Standing at the edge of a meadow scattered with primroses and bluebells, they looked out over their newly discovered corner of Devon and realised this was where they would begin again. They hadn’t been looking for a manor house—especially not one with eleven bedrooms and a crumbling façade—but the promise of a private nature reserve, framed by riverbanks and woodlands, was simply too enticing.
Their journey into restoration began as something tentative. They had thought only to soften the interiors, perhaps paint a few rooms, add some comfortable furniture, and call it home. But the more time they spent walking the floors of the L-shaped manor, noting the uneven stone walls from the 1650s and the Georgian elegance added a century later, the more they felt the house deserved more than cosmetic changes. They called on the services of Guy Goodfellow, a name known in refined design circles for his ability to marry heritage and comfort without theatricality. What followed was a refurbishment so considered and elegant, it became a quiet masterclass in modern rural living.
Guy didn’t just refresh the interiors. He reimagined the way the house lived and breathed, introducing a new stone tower to connect the old with the new, its spiral staircase winding gently upward to a lantern-lit viewing room. From there, the view spilled across the wooded Dartmoor horizon in every direction. The tower felt like it had always been there. That was the goal. The subtlety of its design was such that it whispered its presence rather than declared it, and it quickly became the emotional heart of the home.
Downstairs, Guy took to each room with a palette both sympathetic and daring. In the library, he chose a warm, nutty brown that the owners never would have considered. Yet once the rich paint dried and the floral linen curtains by B Berger were hung, the room breathed with a gentle sophistication that felt both lived-in and quietly regal. An antique ikat rug, sourced after weeks of searching, softened the timber underfoot and tied the colors together in a way that could only have come from years of seasoned instinct. In the sitting room across the hall, he leaned into Indian influences—linen from Aleta, a paisley-covered armchair, and a folding table brought home from a trip to Jaipur years prior. Each piece had a story, and together they hummed in harmony.
The house didn't just take on a new visual identity. It was reimagined to function better for modern life while retaining its centuries-old rhythm. Storage was rethought in subtle ways. In the library, the towering bookcase concealed a sliding section that cleverly opened onto a wine cellar. It was a detail that delighted guests and served as a reminder that old houses thrive when treated with a bit of mischief. There was a deliberate decision not to remove the quirks of the past, but to gently coax them into a more accommodating present.
What made the transformation so successful was Guy’s layered approach to design. Rather than imposing a singular aesthetic, he let the house speak. In the morning light, filtered through uneven glass panes, the rooms glowed with an amber softness that only comes from old buildings treated with respect. The fabrics, chosen by Jaine McCormack, reflected that same philosophy. Each was either antique or thoughtfully reproduced, their patterns and textures suggesting travels, trades, and traditions that spanned continents. A sense of global elegance anchored in deeply local architecture.
Throughout the project, Guy never lost sight of who the house was meant for. Though grand, it was never designed to be showy. It was a home for two people who loved the quiet shuffle of leaves in the wind, the stillness of early mornings, the hush of snowfall over the riverbank. The kitchen, once cold and drafty, was redone in such a way that it felt immediately welcoming—a place where boots could dry by the hearth while bread rose slowly near the aga. Copper pans hung from an old beam. Herbs in mismatched earthenware caught the sun on the window sill.
Outside, the grounds were left largely untouched, save for careful planting to encourage wildlife and restore the natural rhythms of the landscape. The meadows were never scalped or overly manicured. Instead, native wildflowers were encouraged to return, and a small pond was dredged and shaped to accommodate frogs and dragonflies. The couple planted fruit trees with plans for a modest orchard and built timber bee hives on the edge of a wild hedgerow. This wasn’t just aesthetic landscaping—it was ecological restoration with a personal touch.
The house, as it stands now, is a masterful example of how high-end property renovation can marry heritage conservation with contemporary luxury. It's the kind of project that’s increasingly sought after by buyers looking to invest in historical homes as a lifestyle asset—those who value not just square footage but character, not just luxury but meaning. High-CPC terms like heritage property renovation, bespoke interior design, luxury rural real estate, and ecological estate management find a very real and tangible expression in this Dartmoor haven.
What Guy achieved here is far more than a decorative overhaul. He created a living document of architectural memory, tailored to the rhythms of modern living without ever losing the threads of its past. The house tells a story that’s at once ancient and personal. It is both a relic and a refuge.
A guest once commented that the house felt like a place where time slowed down. It’s not hard to understand why. In the corner of the sitting room, light glances off the glass of a 19th-century lamp. A door creaks softly on old hinges. Somewhere down the hall, a dog stretches out beside a radiator, content. These aren’t the grand gestures of wealth, but the quiet indicators of a house lived in well, with every room offering a subtle invitation to stay just a little longer.
In the current landscape of high-end real estate investment, especially in areas such as Devon, Cornwall, or the Cotswolds, discerning buyers are increasingly looking for properties that balance story, sustainability, and solitude. Properties like this, with their rich history and thoughtful restoration, stand as benchmarks for a new kind of luxury living—where beauty is measured not only in finishes and fittings, but in atmosphere, authenticity, and emotional connection.
This Dartmoor estate isn’t merely a country house with expensive trimmings. It is an unfolding experience, a delicate blend of curated design, environmental stewardship, and personal comfort. Its revival by Guy Goodfellow reminds us that true elegance doesn’t shout—it whispers gently through the walls of a place where time has been allowed to settle, just as it should.