A house in the English countryside doesn’t just offer shelter—it provides a rhythm, a sanctuary, a narrative unfolding across rooms and seasons. For one family of five based in London, that narrative began with a simple dream: to carve out a summer retreat where their children could roam freely among gardens, where the pace of life slowed to match the whispering breezes, and where joy was more than a passing sentiment but something embedded into the very walls of their home. That dream took form in a Georgian residence nestled into the gently rolling hills of Devon, where golden fields stretch to the horizon and time seems to gently unfurl instead of tick. This wasn’t to be a pristine escape for show, but a place that welcomed muddy boots and impromptu kitchen dances—a space overflowing with character, nostalgia, and the vibrancy of everyday life.
Naturally, when the family began to imagine what this house might become, they turned to someone who not only understood their aesthetic but also their values. Nicola Harding, the British interior designer whose intuitive, color-rich designs have transformed numerous homes, had worked on their London residence in 2020. Her work there struck a deep chord: a layered, joyful style that eschewed pretense and instead celebrated warmth, history, and wit. It was a natural progression to invite her into the Devon project, and Harding was immediately drawn in by the family’s energy and their intentions for the home. “They are the most lovely family, full of personality,” she recalls. “The brief for this holiday home was totally irresistible: the wife wanted the feeling of love and joy to radiate through it.”
As idyllic as the setting and the sentiment were, the physical structure presented more complexity. The house, like many old English properties, bore the history of numerous additions and alterations. The original Georgian section was defined by its intimate, almost labyrinthine layout—small rooms, low ceilings, and the quirks of a building shaped over centuries. A newer addition at the back, in stark contrast, featured an expansive open-plan layout that felt almost too modern and anonymous in comparison. The challenge was to marry these two sensibilities—to honor the coziness of the old structure while making the new extension feel like a natural continuation, not an abrupt departure.
To address this, Harding partnered with Patrick Kinmonth, a polymath designer and International Editor at Large for World of Interiors. Together, they conceptualized a unifying structure: a glass extension that would wrap around the entryway and connect the main house to a former stable block. This addition wasn’t simply about increasing square footage—it was about narrative continuity. The glass offered a literal transparency, a visual link between past and present, and a gesture of architectural generosity. The extension not only brought light and cohesion to the home’s layout but allowed the spaces to breathe and flow into one another, creating a seamless rhythm of movement.
The result is a home that resists easy categorization. It’s at once old and new, grand yet utterly approachable. The entryway encapsulates this blend perfectly: a rough stone wall salvaged from the original structure is punctuated by a reclaimed wooden dresser—once part of an old English farmhouse—topped with a modern neon sign that reads with playful irreverence. Above it all, a contemporary glass ceiling floods the space with natural light, creating an atmosphere that’s airy but rooted, clean-lined but rich with patina.
Further inside, the home begins to unfold in a series of moods and textures. The vast central space, part of the newer wing, has been cleverly divided into cozy nooks: a kitchen filled with tactile surfaces and vintage finds, a dining area that mixes eras and influences, and a lounge that spills into a light-drenched orangery. Each corner of this space feels like a vignette in a storybook, distinct yet part of the larger narrative.
Throughout the home, Harding’s approach to color and pattern elevates the spaces beyond mere design into something far more emotional. The dining area, for example, is grounded by an antique table sourced from Lorfords, surrounded by cheerful woven chairs from Maison Drucker, all illuminated by a sculptural pendant light from Agapanthus Interiors. There’s an instinctual layering to the composition—it doesn’t feel like a room assembled in one fell swoop, but rather like a gathering of elements accumulated through life’s wanderings, each with its own story and reason for being.
That philosophy is no accident. For Harding, home has always been a deeply personal pursuit. The daughter of a helicopter pilot, she moved often as a child, living in Germany, the U.S., and various corners of the UK. With each relocation, the idea of “home” became less about geography and more about emotion. “Creating that feeling of home for myself became hugely important,” she says now. That lived experience informs every aspect of her work, from her bold use of color to her unapologetic embrace of imperfection. Her forthcoming monograph, Homing Instinct, slated for release on September 9, weaves together her design philosophy with personal reflections, offering readers insight into her deeply human approach to interiors.
In this Devon house, that sensibility is on full display. Each room feels like a memory made tangible, a page in the family’s unfolding summer story. There’s a room with scalloped upholstery and botanical wallpaper that seems pulled from a Beatrix Potter illustration, while another features jewel-toned sofas and a mismatched gallery wall that invites hours of wandering inspection. Nothing matches perfectly, but everything belongs. The joy is in the mix—of old and new, high and low, delicate and rustic.
What also stands out is how much restraint lives within the exuberance. Harding is clear: her clients are not people who sought grandeur. “Even though the house is large and the architecture quite formal, our goal was to make it feel playful and intimate,” she explains. This meant skipping the tropes of luxury—no slick marble islands or cavernous, echoing rooms—and instead focusing on emotional richness. It meant painting ceilings in unexpected hues, upholstering antique chairs in sun-faded velvets, and hanging art that made people smile, not impress. It’s an aesthetic that rejects trend in favor of narrative, one that welcomes wear and layers with grace.
The house functions not just as a stage for leisure but as a vessel for memory. Over time, its rooms are expected to evolve, with objects added from travels or gifted by friends, with scratches and scuffs that will mark games played and parties thrown. Harding’s intention was never to deliver a pristine showroom but to set the stage for the family’s own layering. That evolution, she believes, is what turns a house into a true home.
Outside, the property continues the story. Gardens unfold from the glass orangery, offering a canvas of flowers, herbs, and long grass perfect for barefoot romps and twilight dinners. A small orchard hugs the rear of the property, and beyond that, fields stretch endlessly, dotted with sheep and framed by the occasional stone wall. The landscape plays its own role in the house’s identity—ever-present through wide windows and reflected in the house’s earthy, tactile palette.
The Georgian bones of the house remain proudly visible, a nod to centuries of life lived before. Yet in the new glass extension, in the joyful fabrics and whimsical lighting, there is a forward-facing optimism. The past is respected but not revered; the future is anticipated with creativity and warmth. This dynamic interplay gives the house its resonance, allowing it to speak across time.
Ultimately, what makes this house exceptional isn’t its architecture or its designer pedigree, but the clarity of its emotional mission. This is a place where joy is not ornamental but essential, where design is a vehicle for connection and expression. In Harding’s hands, the house becomes not just a retreat from city life, but a story in which every room is a chapter, every piece a character, and every moment an invitation to feel more deeply at home.