When I was a kid, Natirar was mythological, at least in my mind. I grew up in a suburb near the sprawling, nearly 500-acre estate hidden in Peapack-Gladstone, New Jersey’s equestrian country and owned by the then-King of Morocco. My imagination created endless filmic escapes in which I ran away, hid in Natirar’s palatial hallways, and magically transformed into a princess. The end.

        None of that happened, obviously. I left the state at 18 and never moved back (said king also died without ever spending a night on his property). Now I return to New Jersey often to visit my mother, who lives in a senior community near Peapack. When I do, I feel nostalgic for a bygone version of home that is warm and full of life, that I can no longer access. On a recent trip, however, I stayed at Pendry Natirar. Combining past and present, fantasy with reality, the estate possesses a bucolic English countryside ambiance and retains the fairy-tale magic I conjured in my youth.

        The enchantment began as I turned off the area’s main road toward the property. Here, a single horse cinematically hung its head over a white wooden fence, and the mile-long drive wound upward through a pastoral postcard of flowering trees and trilling birds. The 1912 Tudor-style mansion at the end looked like a Gilded Age movie set, perched high enough to survey the entirety of the grounds.

        Stepping through Natirar’s heavy oak door, I caught the scent of wood burning in the Great Room fireplace. Illuminated by the flames, the library’s soft, deep chairs seemed to glow, framed by wrought-iron windows looking out onto the hills, which were catching the last bits of the sunlight.

        The Pendry collection’s influence is everywhere, in the best way. Refurbished interiors layer the estate’s original details — ornate plaster ceilings, limestone foyers, 31 fireplaces — with modern touches: deep green accents, gold fixtures, plush furniture, decadent bathrooms. Outdoors, guided e-bike tours, archery, hiking, fly fishing, and horseback trail rides traverse the sprawling acreage. In addition to a trout-filled river, there’s an apiary and an organic farm, which supplies produce to two onsite restaurants: Ninety Acres for fine dining and the more casual Ladd’s Tavern. In the expansive spa, seasonal ingredients are integrated into scrubs, oils, and mud wraps.

        Yet, the estate’s origins remain in the mansion, which was created by architect Guy Lowell, who also designed the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. At the bequest of Natirar’s original owners, Walter and Kate Ladd, Lowell modeled the historic structure after Wroxton Abbey in England. But that’s only half the story, Kate also devoted her fortune to medical research and the care of women, turning a farmhouse on the property into a convalescent home for women who needed rest but couldn’t afford it. For a period of time after her death, the mansion became the Kate Macy Ladd Convalescent Home, a sanctuary for “deserving gentlewomen” recovering from medical conditions and surgery. Something about Kate’s spirit still seems to linger in this soothing escape, bringing peace to those in need of rest, including me.

        Natirar may not be where I grew up, but it certainly feels a bit like home.