Two upstairs and two down, plus the attic snug under the gable. Every room is keyed by its window — so when the rambling rose blooms in May, you'll be sleeping under it.
The largest of the five. A canopy bed under hand-papered wisteria vines, an antique writing desk by the window, and a small private balcony overlooking the herb beds and the back wall.
A long, low room on the ground floor with French doors directly into the back garden. Honeyed wood floors, a pair of wing chairs by the small fireplace, and the pink hollyhocks brushing the glass in July.
Bedroom, plus a small adjoining sitting room with a daybed (sleeps a third). Two windows of foxglove and bee balm, both onto the front lane, and the cottage's only wood-paneled bath.
Two iron-frame twin beds set against the long wall, soft saffron walls, and a window onto the marigold border by the front gate. The room siblings most often choose, and the room our most regular pair of friends has booked twelve seasons in a row.
The attic. A snug, low-eaved room with a queen bed tucked under the dormer, lavender on every surface, and the village rooftops out of three small windows. The smallest of the five and the cheapest, and our most-rebooked among writers.
We're a small place run by two people. The policies below are not corporate; they are simply how we keep the cottage running smoothly for everyone who has come to stay.