Ptolemy Dean and David Mlinaric conjure an enchanting house out of the English countryside

The owners of this handsome new house had considered plans from three architects before they found the one that was right one for them. The first architect envisaged a formal classical building while the second explored the possibility of a contemporary open-plan, barn-like structure in lots of wood and glass. But the third, by Ptolemy Dean, was, like Goldilocks’ final bowl of porridge, just right. ‘It’s perfect – and, what’s more, the finished house is almost identical to his first sketch,’ says its happy owner. The house, built of handmade Swanage bricks and flint, stands tall, on a hill overlooking an unspoilt valley in the south of England.

Ptolemy is surveyor of the Fabric of Westminster Abbey, a post held by only 19 people since Sir Christopher Wren in 1698, but he wears his distinction lightly. ‘It was clear what needed to be done,’ he says. ‘The house had to relate to the distinct character of this area of the country, to those clusters of farmhouses with informal groupings of outbuildings. They look a bit muddly and picturesque but when you walk round, suddenly, there is a formal front. Somebody felt a view mattered. And if there is ever a place where the view matters, it’s on the southern frontage of this hill.’ He was also keen that the house had a good profile and silhouette, with tall chimneys on the central block and two lower wings on either side.

You arrive at a semi-enclosed gravel courtyard with, on the left, the flint façade of the house, with red brick surrounds to the windows, and facing it, a pair of open barns with parking for cars. Between these two outbuildings, a path takes you up the hill, along an axis between rows of trees. It ascends, through different levels of wild and formal gardens designed by Jinny Blom, until, at the top, it enters a grassy circle ringed by wildflowers.

Open the front door and the soaring height of the hall takes your breath away as it reaches up through two storeys to a skylight. A circular hole, with a balustrade, in the landing floor of the upper storey, brings light into the centre of the house. The axis that runs from the top of the garden, through the courtyard, front door and hall, continues through one of the drawing room windows to the view beyond. Another axis, at the back of the hall, crosses the first one, extending from a little orchard beyond the television room, through the hall, dining room and kitchen to a garden beyond. ‘We wanted the light and the axes,’ explains Ptolemy. ‘With no dead ends or dark corners, the whole house feels as one.’

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There was just one choice when it came to the interiors. David Mlinaric, who, at 83, is still at the pinnacle of interior design, agreed to undertake the job. ‘If a house is as good as this one, you are just answering the architect and you can decorate very lightly,’ he says. The owners were surprised at first by his choice of a dusky pink ottoman fabric for the drawing room walls and curtains. They now love the colour, which is warm on grey days and beautiful at night. The edges of the wall are covered by gilt picture-framing fillet, which brings an occasional gleam of light into the corners.

Acting as a consultant, David delegated the search for furniture and accessories, antique and modern, and the running of the job, to his colleague Amanda Douglas, ‘She got it all done – we were with each other all the way,’ he says. Among their finds was a pair of glorious Italian commodes ‘slightly faded by the sun’. These frame the opening to the study. Here, the same fabric, this time in a pale apple green, covers walls and windows. ‘It’s that lovely green we have been using in Britain since the Renaissance,’ David says.