No. 24 Upper Berkeley Street, home to Henry’s Townhouse, is smartly discreet, in the Marylebone sense of the word. The beautiful terraced townhouse, with its four storeys, sash windows, black front door and cream-brickwork façade, blends seamlessly with its neighbours on a street that creates a pocket of calm moments from the bustle of Edgware Road and Marble Arch. A few decades ago, Jimi Hendrix would have been found strumming his guitar a few doors down at No. 43; a century before that, the neighbour at No. 20 would have been one Elizabeth Garrett Anderson, the first woman to qualify as a doctor in Britain.

From 1800 to 1804, however, we know that the owner of No. 24 lived ‘quite in style’, thanks to the surviving correspondence of his cousin Phylly. I almost miss a small gold plaque the size of a postcard outside, in the fading London light, subtly branded with the letter H for Henry Austen – a former member of the Oxfordshire militia, banker, clergyman and yes, brother of the one and only Jane Austen.

And not just any brother: of six, Henry was her favourite and Jane would often visit him and his wife Eliza on Upper Berkeley Street. ‘Perpetual sunshine’ is, in fact, what she declared Henry to be (not words this writer would come close to thinking about her own brothers, loved as they may be).

This point of historical interest was uncovered during extensive renovation proceedings undertaken by owners Steven and Jane Collins (he’s the director of Chelsea Harbour Estate, she’s the owner of Marylebone High Street’s Sixty 6 boutique and they both oversee the exceptional Temple Guiting Manor in the Cotswolds). The Austen family connection thus informed the entire look and feel of the house as it is today. And it works wonderfully. A London townhouse with such a history and just six bedrooms should be cosseting in its opulence, chic in its compactness and cosy in its elegance. To fulfil the brief, British design firm Russell Sage Studio was called in and, as always, has risen to the occasion.

Even before one reaches the bedrooms, one discovers communal spaces which are petite but perfectly formed. The entrance hallway features chequerboard tiling, a grand mirror and globe lanterns; Jane’s Reading Room, on the ground floor, with its romantic draping, chandelier, dusky pink velvet and fresh roses, reminds me of the pretty tea salons in Downton Abbey.

The Carrriage Snug

Henry’s Drawing Room, on the same floor, in regal hues of maroon and ruby-red, can be converted into a bedroom (with en-suite) when the whole house is hired out. There’s even a little terrace, for al fresco coffee and cocktails. My favourite spot, though, is the Carriage Snug on the first-floor landing, housing a set of ten first-edition Jane Austen novels (complete with white gloves with which to handle them) and a slim sofa perfect for perching with a large glass of red and a great book.

When it comes to furnishing the six bedrooms, the RSS team, along with Jane Collins, delved into the family’s history. Each is named for an Austen family member: Eliza (Henry’s wife/Jane’s sister-in-law), Phylly (his cousin), Cassandra (Jane’s sister) and Jane’s older brothers James, Frank (Francis) and Charles. Those who bemoan the standard length of a hotel bed should book Phylly, and stretch out on a mattress seven feet long. If you like the sound of a bath housed in theatrically tented silk canvas, a Chinoiserie writing desk, frilled four-poster bed and chaise longue, Eliza is the room for you. I spend a night in the high-ceilinged Cassandra, complete with sparkling chandelier, gilded mirror and huge headboard, languishing in its light and bright pale-blue hue.

For breakfast, all townhouse guests are seated around the large refectory table which can accommodate 14, housed in a room painted calming sage, with pops of blue Delft tiles. “‘”When I turned on the light this morning, I did think to myself: weren’t there better-looking Georgians?!” jokes an American guest about her in-room portrait (although it transpires she and her companions work in plastic surgery so are rather more used to a different kind of face…). I expect the Aga, which gives the room a homey feel, to appeal to the Americans and it does, as does the chocolate we have in our room. In fact, they’re about to head out in search of this Pump Street chocolate, which they will find at Granger & Co or Bayley & Sage on Marylebone High Street.

There’s a menu of smoothies, juices and health shots, a breakfast buffet (fresh fruit, yogurt, all the toppings, pastries) and a menu comprising options like oats, sourdough, avocado toast, buttermilk pancakes, egg and soldiers. Kate from San Diego is waxing lyrical about the full English but I go for the pancakes, which the chef says are his specialty. They’re unlike any pancake I’ve had before: with a scone-like flavour and fluffier-than-scone consistency, there’s an emphasis on the cake part of the word. Henry’s doesn’t offer an evening restaurant service as such but house manager Ann can sort out a private chef, especially for exclusive use guests, or a Henry’s Trishna ‘takeaway’ (it feels wrong to call it this when it’s from somewhere as excellent as Trishna).

I step out for a post-breakfast stroll, pocketing my heavy key featuring a small portrait of Cassandra, and immerse myself in the charms of Marylebone High Street, safe in the knowledge all I need do is enter the front door key code to immerse myself back in this little haven of Georgian history.

From £595 per night based on two sharing a suite, including a la carte breakfast and complimentary in-room mini bar. To book visit henrystownhouse.co.uk.

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