Afternoon tea fit for a queen in opulent historic surroundings, plus a spa under the stars.

Easing into a plush velvet sofa in front of the fireplace to take afternoon tea in the Tudor Great Hall at Ellenborough Park, I can’t help thinking I’ve drifted onto the set of Bridgerton. With its vaulted ceiling and dark oak-panelled walls, the room would make the perfect backdrop for a TV period drama. This 15th-century manor house is steeped in history. There are musket bullet holes in the front door from the English Civil War; King George III came to stay when he was (unsuccessfully) taking the curative waters of nearby Cheltenham spa; the house saw action as a field hospital during the second world war, and it was an Enid Blyton-style boarding school for girls up until the early 1970s.

Afternoon tea is a lavish – almost regal – affair, with a ‘shake and sniff’ menu of loose-leaf tea and a towering cake stand offering crustless cucumber, egg and smoked salmon finger sandwiches; warm mini quiche and homemade sausage rolls; buttery soft scones with cream and jam; a hazelnut choux bun oozing with hazelnut cream and melt-in-the-mouth raspberry macarons (£37 a head, or £65 if you succumb to some Taittinger Champagne – as we do). Everything is sipped and nibbled under the watchful eye of a life-size portrait of Catherine Parr – Henry VIII’s sixth wife, who outlived him (she’s buried next door, at Sudeley Castle). We’re just a few miles from central Cheltenham, but deep in rolling Cotswold countryside, with spectacular views across to the famous racecourse. If the races are on, you can hop on a direct shuttle to the racecourse helipad. But, after being shown to the boot room, we’re kitted out with Dubarry boots and waxed jackets for a properly equipped stomp around the 36 hectares (90 acres) of grassy grounds. I’m sorry that we didn’t bring our dog, Nell – she would have loved the wide-open spaces, ‘paw spa’ area (brushes, towels and grooming goodies) and attentive staff. When I ask the concierge for a peek at the Doggie Menu (‘tapas’ bark burgers and sausage dogs for £2.50; a Sir Woofchester chicken roast dinner or fish and chips for £6 – all made with natural ingredients) he enquires about my hound – ‘A pointer? How lovely! She must be really intelligent’ – and seems genuinely sad not to have met her.

We also have a look at the dog-friendly rooms in a stable courtyard (dogs are charged at £30 a night), each with a huge four-poster bed (for the humans), a swanky Le Chameau bed (for the dog) and a private enclosed garden (for both). But as we’re dogless on this visit, we’re shown to a large, sunny bedroom halfway up a tower – which is reached by a circuitous route of rickety staircases and double-backed corridors so complex I’m a little concerned we won’t be able to find our way back after a few glasses of wine at dinner. As he leads us up to the top of the tower, the concierge tells us that our room was where the girls’ school principal, Miss Bellamy, once held court – and that ex-pupils who come to stay talk about climbing those windy stairs with trepidation. I’m not sure Miss Bellamy would have approved of the hours we spend languishing in the Ellenborough spa. But we thoroughly enjoy shuffling between the sauna, steam room and mosaic-tiled sunken Jacuzzi in our fluffy white robes, before wandering over to the heated swimming pool. We then return for a snooze in the ‘kama’ relaxation room, and sip fruity iced tea before padding over for our reserved 90-minute spot in the newly opened Spa Garden Retreat – where we have an enormous hot tub and a cylindrical wooden sauna all to ourselves. This really is the perfect place for a salubriously romantic night away in the countryside.

On warm nights, dinner is served outside on the patio, in one of the private dining ‘carriages’ dotted around the lawns, or in the pub-like Horse Box Brasserie. But we head to the main restaurant, feeling a bit like new recruits at Hogwarts, and sit on tapestried seats beneath ancient stained-glass windows. It all feels so medieval that I fully expect a minstrel to skip in, wearing tights and playing a lute. A distinct whiff of truffle had already hit us as we descended from our tower bedroom, and I find that I’m helpless to its charms. I absolutely have to order a neon-green and deeply aromatic pea velouté (because it is truffle-infused), followed by a creamy cep risotto because it, too, is scattered with finely grated fresh truffle. Jon opts for a more macho sirloin steak (which he declares to be ‘sublime’), acquiescing with a side of super-crunchy, triple-cooked truffle fries. But we take our (velvety tasselled) hats off to Ellenborough Park’s pastry chef – who had already expertly exceeded our expectations at tea. The salted caramel white chocolate fondant that we share for dessert is just the most perfect combination of soft and salty and sweet; the richness wonderfully contrasted by a thin sheet of tart apple ‘glass’. It definitely would have received a royal seal of approval.