Escape. Unwind. Stay Awhile.
A PRIVATE RESORT EXPERIENCE
On the Rappahannock River
5.74 ACRES
Private riverfront
5 BEDROOMS · 5.5 BATHS
Designed for family & friend
TRI-LEVEL INFINITY POOL + SPA
Waterfalls · Lagoon · Sun Ledge · River
PRIVATE VILLA
Space, privacy & extraordinary experiences
RIVER ROCK VILLA
Come stay awhile.
There are places you visit.
And then there are places that somehow become part of your family story.
River Rock is the second kind.
A private riverfront villa on 5.74 acres along the Rappahannock, created for the people you want around you—and the rare luxury of having nowhere you need to be.
Come for the pool.
Stay for the porch.
Walk the trail to the river.
Cook something together.
Let the children find comfort downstairs.
Sleep late.
Do absolutely nothing.
Or let the Concierge arrange the day for you.
Your stay. Your way.
BUILT STONE-BY-STONE
MADE TO BELONG.
The waterfall was never meant to feel like a pool feature dropped into the landscape.
It was shaped to become part of the wooded topography, flanked by creeks, wrapped in trees, and built one stone at a time until the basin, waterfall, and 40-foot curved granite bar felt as though they had always belonged here.
Every block was chosen, chipped, and placed by hand, creating an iconic River Rock view that is both beautiful and functional.
RIVER ROCK BEGAN WITH A PIECE OF LAND AND A VISION.
The land was secured in 2004.
For the next two years, plans were drawn, materials considered, and every detail of the Villa thoughtfully selected.
Once the home was complete, the vision continued to unfold.
The pool became a signature element of the property—shaped not simply as an amenity, but as something that belonged to the land.
Years of stonework followed.
Terraces were shaped. Waterfalls were built. Paths were laid. Unique materials and objects were gathered.
And River Rock continues to evolve.
The architecture opens to the landscape.
Stone terraces step with the land.
Paths lead toward the river.
Water creates movement and sound.
PEOPLE. PLACES. THEN THINGS.
It is the philosophy behind River Rock.
A place shaped with elegance, vision, and intention—and continually refined to create extraordinary experiences for generations to come.
NATURE AND PEOPLE COME TOGETHER.
There is always something to discover.
THE ARRIVAL
The farther you go, the more River Rock reveals itself.
The Villa is nearly ten miles from the I95.
About five miles on Warrenton Road, you turn onto Holly Corner Road, then right onto River Ridge Road, following the peninsula toward its very end.
The first time, the road seems curiously narrow.
Two lanes.
Trees close in.
The river is somewhere beyond them, though you don't see it yet.
At the end the road opens into Wellington Chase on the Rappahannock.
You turn left onto Wentworth Drive.
The homes are beautiful. The street is short.
And then, almost before you expect it, the Villa appears.
At night, tiny blue lights illuminate the columns—just enough to say:
Today is a special day.
A circular drive.
A willow tree.
The magnolia as you enter the drive.
The half-circle steps rise toward the house, framed by two large urns, a healthy yellow rose bush, shrubs, lupines, crepe myrtles, and the rocks that seem to belong here.
Above it all, the wide covered wrap around porch stretches between its columns, softened by ferns.
And there it is.
The burgundy front door.
A few steps.
A touch of the keypad.
And you're in.
Then the driveway fills.
Family arrives with cakes in hand.
Dogs leap from the cars.
Someone runs toward the porch.
Someone else simply stands for a moment, looking around.
The house has room for all of it.
Room to gather.
Room to wander.
Room to return.
THE FOYER
The Villa begins with space.
Open the front door and the house seems to unfold in every direction.
The foyer rises two stories, with rooms opening to either side and a balcony above offering glimpses of the private spaces beyond. Light falls through the second-story window above the entrance, catching the crystals of the chandelier as they move gently overhead.
Straight ahead, an archway offers a glimpse of another world below. Its winding stairs disappears toward the lower level, quietly suggesting there is more to discover.
But not yet.
The dining room waits to one side. The living room to the other. Beyond them, the house continues—through halls and archways, toward the kitchen, library, bedrooms, terraces and rooms still unseen.
There is a great deal of space here.
But it never feels formal.
The rooms are beautiful without asking you to be careful around them. The materials are substantial, but meant to be touched. The architecture opens and surprises, then quietly settles around you.
The house has already begun to reveal itself.
And there is still another room around the corner.
THE ROOMS BEYOND
As you enter the library alcove, your eyes continue forward.
It is almost impossible not to wander toward the room beyond.
The ceiling rises twenty feet. Windows rise with it. Long white sheers soften the light, and for a moment the Great Room seems to disappear into a kind of mist.
Watch the step.
Below, wide-plank floors continue beneath a deep blue Persian rug. The scale of the room slowly reveals itself—the furnishings, the height, the windows, and the grand piano, substantial and graceful, its bench turned inward as though waiting for someone to sit down.
Beyond the glass, the pool rests quietly between the woods and the sky.
The terraces stretch outward.
The house seems to be asking you to come outside.
But there is still more to discover.
To the right, the spaces circle toward the kitchen and dining area. Diagonal slate-like tile draws you forward through the Great Room.
Here, you pause.
Step up into the dining area and another chandelier settles the room around a long ebony table. Beyond it, the bay opens through generous windows, offering a wide view across the privacy of the estate.
The table has texture.
The granite is smooth.
Some things are meant to be looked at.
Others make you want to reach out your hand.
Beyond the dining area, the kitchen begins to reveal itself. Stainless steel catches the light. The range, double ovens, and center island appear almost one detail at a time—substantial, generous, and ready for use.
It is easy to imagine someone cooking here while others gather nearby, the conversation moving naturally between the kitchen and the table.
It is a great deal to take in.
And eventually, you pull up a chair.
Not because you have finished looking.
But because you begin to wonder what happens next.
Will this be where you drink your coffee in the morning?
Where someone sits while another person cooks?
Where the plans for the day are made?
Where the evening begins?
The kitchen is ready.
The rest of the week is still waiting.
THE FIRST-FLOOR SUITE
And then, just when you think you have seen enough…
There is a great deal to take in, and eventually you begin to wander toward the places you have not yet seen.
Beyond the kitchen, an archway offers a glimpse of the powder room—its large mirror, black granite, and dark walls adding an unexpected bit of drama.
But the back foyer beyond is calling.
Alabaster lights. Double doors.
You push them open.
And suddenly, the Villa is airy again.
A generous bed anchors the room, cool and inviting, with its adjustable base quietly offering one more unexpected luxury. Sliding glass doors bring the outside close, while double closets make it easy to settle in rather than simply unpack.
Then you notice the curtain.
Behind it, a chaise lounge waits on a screened porch.
Of course.
A quiet place to disappear for a while.
And the porch door leads outside toward the spa.
Perhaps that is where the morning begins.
The bath is only steps away.
A jetted tub.
A separate shower with brass details.
A small stool.
A hand mirror.
Needlepoint.
The room is full of small things that make you pause and look again.
It feels private.
Comfortable.
A little indulgent.
And, for a while—
entirely yours.
THE FRONT PORCH
So often, we walk across a porch
simply to get somewhere else.
At River Rock, you come back.
This is where we sit.
The front porch is much like the Chef’s Kitchen inside—a place where people naturally gather. High ceilings rise overhead. The porch stretches wide enough for conversation, coffee, bare feet, and the comfortable disorder of people settling in.
The ol’ porch swing brings a gentle motion that seems to belong to another time.
Back and forth.
Conversation finds its own pace.
A couch and chairs offer other places to settle. Morning coffee begins here. Evenings sometimes end here. And occasionally, there is nothing to do but sit and watch the day change.
The porch is especially entertaining during the rain.
The soft rhythm on the metal roof.
Raindrops gathering and jumping from the edge.
Water moving across the cul-de-sac, toward the creek, the river, and eventually the Chesapeake.
For a moment, you can hear the whole landscape in motion.
Take a glass.
A book.
A child.
A loved one.
The dog.
The porch will make room.
And then there are the quiet hours.
When everyone else is busy, the porch is an excellent place to disappear for a while.
The willow moves.
The crape myrtles bloom.
Magnolia leaves shift overhead.
Wildlife carries on its conversations.
THE VILLA SUITE
Some rooms make you want to come back before the day is over.
Walking upstairs, your hand naturally finds the curved stair post. It seems to turn with you as the staircase rises—three or four steps, a landing, then another gentle turn, and another—until you reach the second-floor foyer overlooking the entrance below.
The chandelier is at eye level now.
What shimmered overhead from below has become a thousand small points of light, catching and moving as you pass.
Ahead, the foyer opens wide before narrowing toward the upper hall.
To the left at the end of the hall a door leads toward the Family Suite.
Another room waits to the right.
And then there are the double doors.
The room is spacious and bright, with nine-foot ceilings rising even higher into a deep tray above. Overhead, The LilyLight gathers the room together—round and reflective, its white porcelain flowers catching the light and quietly drawing your eyes upward.
Two windows frame the substantial cherry four-poster bed.
A down comforter.
Golden pillows.
Black-and-white drapery.
Warm lamps framing the headboard.
Muted shades of brass and gold appear throughout the room, gradually revealing themselves as you look around.
To one side, the sitting room opens beyond columns resting on a low foundation wall.
A bay window draws you toward it.
Open the wooden blinds.
And suddenly the pool terrace is there below.
Water, terraces, trees, and sky are remarkably present from here.
The lace curtains soften the sunlight. A gold-leaf painting offers another glimpse through the trees, quietly echoing the forest and trails beyond the Villa.
Then there is the fireplace.
The loveseat.
The windows.
The bed.
And beyond it all, another room.
The built-in closet makes it easy to settle in, with shelves, hangers, and a place for the practical things that disappear once the suitcase is unpacked.
Through the alcove, the bath opens.
Double doors reveal corner windows stretching through the trees in two directions. Below them, a generous jetted tub waits.
Two vanities.
A makeup table.
Soft rugs beneath your feet.
A brass-trimmed shower with two showerheads.
There is room for everything.
And then, eventually, you begin thinking about coming back.
Perhaps before evening.
A glass of wine.
A little time alone.
A nap.
Or simply a place to sit and watch the family in the pool below.
The Villa is still happening everywhere else.
But this room will be here when you return.
THE UPPER LEVEL
A room of one's own. And everyone still nearby.
The primary suite is not the only place to disappear upstairs.
Three more bedrooms continue along the hall, each with its own character, colors, textures, and point of view.
None feels like an afterthought.
There is room to unpack. Generous closets. Places for the things that seem to multiply during a stay.
Everyone has somewhere to settle.
And then you begin exploring.
THE ROOM BESIDE THE FOYER - East Wing
Turn right at the top of the stairs and there is only one bedroom in that direction.
The chandelier remains in view.
Every arrival and departure passes beneath its light.
Inside, the room is quieter.
A substantial upholstered wingback headboard anchors the bed—neutral, generous, and foundational. A blue quilt stretches across it in clean horizontal lines, meeting the geometry of the room and floor almost perfectly.
At the foot of the bed, a soft sheepskin rug waits.
Perhaps shoes are unnecessary.
The lighting is more intimate here. Vintage crystals catch the light overhead—not with the scale of the two-story foyer, but as though they were made specifically for this room.
Open the white wooden blinds.
Look toward the roofline, the cherry tree, the willow, and the quiet cul-de-sac beyond.
There is something wonderfully familiar about the view.
In the private bathroom, a tub and shower offer another place to retreat. The rain showerhead waits overhead. White marble stretches across the vanity, while small details of the hardware catch the light like tiny pieces of jewelry.
And outside the slender window—
when it rains—
you can watch the drops gather, jump, and roll across the metal roof.
THE ROOM AT THE END OF THE HALL - West Wing
Continue down the hall.
The laundry closet disappears quietly along the way, and another bedroom waits at the far end.
A king bed is framed by windows on either side.
Open the white wooden blinds and the trees appear again.
Below, the driveway disappears into the landscape.
And remarkably, very little else.
The room feels private.
A colorful quilt and oversized heart-shaped pillows announce its personality. Custom drapery moves through bold panels of pink, lime green, and black.
Chic.
Playful.
A little bohemian.
Vintage lampshades add another layer of surprise, while a vintage vanity and generous dresser offer places for the practical things of everyday life.
And then you discover how much room there is to unpack.
A generous closet.
Space for several suitcases.
Enough room to settle in properly.
Just beyond, the bedroom opens into its own private vanity room.
A wide granite counter sits beneath the light, with generous double-drawer cabinetry below and beautifully framed square metal mirrors adding another layer of architectural detail.
Beyond, the tub, shower, and commode are shared between the two rooms.
And when privacy is wanted, each bedroom can be secured from the shared bath, keeping your room entirely your own.
And on the other side—
another private vanity room.
Another bedroom.
Another place to prepare for the day.
The rooms remain connected.
Everyone still has somewhere of their own.
THE ROOM ACROSS THE HALL - North Wing
Across from the laundry, another door opens.
Double windows look across the driveway, bringing light into the room and quietly drawing you toward the view.
A matching headboard connects this bedroom to the one beside it, while the rest of the room develops its own personality.
A large closet waits nearby.
A Barbie house.
A few toys.
Waiting patiently in the corner.
The bed is dressed in a generous, fluffy quilt.
The kind that makes you understand immediately that this is a room made for sleeping late.
For closing the doors.
For reading.
For retreating.
And perhaps, before bed, for opening the adjoining door one more time.
A last-minute goodnight kiss.
A story.
A secret from the day.
Then the doors close again.
Everyone has their own space.
A place to sit.
A place to wash.
A place to sleep.
A place to unpack.
THE POOL
And then, before taking another step, you have to go outside.
From the two main living areas, the pool is always there.
Visible through the glass.
Waiting.
And then you step outside.
The terrace opens wide.
Water. Stone. Trees. Rock.
So much to see that the eye doesn't know where to settle first.
Beyond the water, the landscape stretches into the trees and the abundant nature surrounding the Villa. Closer, massive natural rocks rise along the edge of the property, each one different, each one part of the terrain.
The screened porch of the First Floor Suite is here.
Picnic tables.
The grill.
Chaise lounges.
Another place to sit.
Another path.
Another discovery.
And then the water begins to take over.
The pool is a deep blue/green — more like a pond than the familiar glare of a swimming pool. It catches the trees, the sky, and the stone around it.
For a moment, the reflections are enough.
Then the details begin to emerge.
The ten-foot spa sits above the pool, edged in marble with a rounded bullnose finish. The same bullnose follows the pool coping, meeting a granite waterline that traces the edge of the teal water.
Nearby, the mimosa tree rises like a small tropical island.
The Trex deck drops down in a few easy steps.
And there is the swim-up bar.
The water meets the granite at exactly the right height.
A few more steps reveal the slide.
It is larger than expected, with a deeper spiral than the landscape first suggests—yet remarkably integrated into the ground, rising only a few steps above the terrace.
And then the water begins to move.
First, quietly.
Water leaves the spa.
It moves toward the pool, then toward the lagoon.
Between them, the waterfalls begin.
Hundreds of Shoreline-blue-vein rocks under the cascade.
Similar in scale.
Never identical.
Each one selected, chipped, and placed individually.
Together, they become something closer to an original work of art than a conventional pool waterfall.
The water gathers speed.
It reaches the broad, curved granite steps—each approximately four feet wide—and begins its descent into the lagoon below.
The steps become part of the waterfall itself.
Water over stone.
Stone over stone.
A passage between levels.
And from the lagoon, the steps lead back upward.
Back toward the rocks.
Back toward the pool.
The waterfall continues.
Then, at full force, the sound changes.
Falling water.
Tiny drops striking granite.
Stone darkening as it becomes wet.
Water catching the light.
The sound carries across the terrace.
It is part of the landscape now.
And it happens every morning.
And every evening.
Wait for it.
There is more.
The curved forty-foot granite bar sprawls across the lagoon admiring the waterfall, its bar-height wall following the arc of the pool.
Above it, the branches of a Japanese maple reach toward the water.
The Trex eventually gives way to concrete, and beneath the pool terrace are rooms you would never expect to find there.
One is the machinery behind the water—the pumps, pipes, and equipment that keep everything moving.
The other is something else entirely.
A twenty-by-thirty-foot room with concrete walls painted with palms and scenic water.
A pool table.
A picnic table.
A surfboard.
And sand.
Sand across the entire floor.
Buckets.
Shovels.
Toys.
A place that seems to have been waiting for children to discover it.
But the journey doesn't end there.
A staircase leads upward.
Flowering trees appear first.
Then the upper terrace comes into view.
And suddenly, the Villa is seen from an entirely different perspective.
The picture window.
The living spaces beyond it.
The pool below.
The people inside.
Someone notices you through the glass.
A wave.
And then—
here they come.
THE POOL ROOM
And just when you think you've discovered everything...
There is another way down.
You can enter the lower level directly from outside, near the pool.
The first room feels almost like a continuation of the pool itself.
Tile.
A long wooden horse bench for changing.
A shower just steps away.
A curved red sofa.
A wooden mermaid on the wall.
Playful.
Then you notice the poker table.
A beautiful table beneath a light that drops directly over the center.
The gym is right beside it.
And around the corner -
the pool table.
A Tiffany-style lamp hangs above it, the cues lined neatly along the wall.
A leather couch sits nearby.
Someone else may already be playing air hockey.
Or foosball.
Or sitting at the game table with a Scrabble board spread out between them.
A giant Connect game for the little ones.
The rooms open into one another, so nothing really happens in isolation.
You hear a challenge from across the room.
A cheer.
A groan.
Someone calls out the score.
Someone wanders through on the way to the gym.
Someone stops to watch.
Then the movie starts.
From the pool table, you can see the screen.
From the game table, you can hear the movie.
From the leather chairs, you can still see the games happening beyond.
The theater is tucked into the far end of the room with a giant screen, four leather recliners, and a leather loveseat.
The sound is extraordinary.
Stream something new.
Put on a DVD.
Or find an old VHS and discover what is still waiting to be watched.
Sonos carries music through the rooms when the mood changes.
And somehow, everyone is still together.
Separate games.
Separate conversations.
Different ages doing completely different things.
But always passing through.
Always hearing what is happening somewhere else.
And then, inevitably—
someone wins.
Someone loses.
Someone gets hungry.
Someone wanders toward the pool.
Someone comes back.
The lower level never really stops moving.
And that's what makes it so much fun.
THE RIVER
A path through the woods. A river beyond.
And then, if you keep walking, the property gives you something else entirely.
A private path winds through the woods, with creeks flowing on either side, until the trees open to the Rappahannock River.
There are no houses in sight.
Across the water, the protected river easement stretches for miles through a remarkable landscape of forests, shoreline, and open space.
At the end of the path, history comes into view—an 1800s dry lock along the river.
To one side, River Rock Island rises from the water, with a sandy eastern shore and small rapids nearby.
It is a place for fishing, exploring, launching a kayak or canoe, listening to the water, or simply sitting at the shoreline and letting the landscape take over.
Where Nature Has Room to Breathe.
THE EXPERIENCES
And then there is everything beyond River Rock.
There is plenty to discover beyond the Villa.
The Concierge can arrange the details, make recommendations, or simply point you in the right direction.
A table worth driving for.
A morning on the golf course.
A day in Virginia wine country.
A battlefield, a historic town, a trail through the woods.
A kayak or canoe on the river.
A fishing trip.
A hike.
Your Stay — Your Way
Perhaps you want every day planned.
Perhaps you want one adventure and six hours by the pool.
Perhaps you want to hike, fish, explore, and come home to dinner waiting.
Or perhaps you don't want to leave River Rock at all.
The choice is yours.
There are places to go.
Things to see.
Stories to discover.
And then there is River Rock.
Because somewhere along the way, the rhythm changes.
The morning that was supposed to begin with a drive becomes coffee on the porch.
The afternoon excursion gets shortened because the pool is too good.
The children disappear toward the water.
Someone is cooking.
Someone is reading.
Someone has found a game downstairs.
Someone else is still sitting on the porch.
And suddenly, leaving feels like an interruption.
Why would I leave?
The river is still here.
The pool is still here.
Dinner can wait.
The trail can wait.
There is another morning.
Another cup of coffee.
Another swim.
Another sunset.
I'm not going anywhere.
And I will return.
You leave the room.
You leave the porch.
You leave the pool.
You walk down to the river.
You go exploring.
And then you come back.
Not because the place told you to.
Because there is somewhere here you want to return to.
And this is River Rock.