Actor Adrian Lukis is selling a cottage with a strange history, reports Christine Webb.

As George Wickham in the BBC's Pride and Prejudice, he broke hearts. As Dr David Shearer in Peak Practice he met an untimely death. So it is a relief to discover that Adrian Lukis is alive and well.

So popular is the actor, who lives in London and Wiltshire, that he has only just finished answering the mountain of mail from his grieving fans. Sadly, Lukis, 42, will not be living in Wiltshire much longer. For he is selling the childhood home left to him following his parents' death. They had fallen for the cottage in Steeple Ashton, near Trowbridge in 1966 when they returned after seven years in Australia, where Lukis's father had been posted with the Royal Marines. It took all their savings to buy the cottage for ₤7,000.

"After the heat of Adelaide, they wanted the full English country cottage experience, and saw that this was it," says Lukis, gesturing at the roses, lawns, apple trees and berried holly that encompass the delightful, L-shaped thatched cottage called Old Chesils. The couple became keen gardeners and avidly tended the two-thirds of an acre plot, where Adrian, their only son, kicked a football around during boarding school holidays.

The three-bedroom cottage is a perfect village idyll. It is tucked into a quiet cul-de-sac behind the church. The village grew up on the back of the wool industry — its affluence peaking around 1500 — but a fire tore through it in 1503 and many of the houses rebuilt then still stand, or rather lean, around a triangular green.

Steeple Ashton is unspoilt, with its cobbled pavements, stone jail and market cross. Old Chesils must be one of its oldest houses. It first appeared in records of 1722, when the rent was two shillings, although it doesn't say how long that was for. It was home to a branch of the Berrett family from 1793, and was licensed as a "Dissenters" or Mormon chapel by Robert Berrett in 1847.

It is curious to think that the Berretts were converted to the Church of the Latter-Day Saints all that time ago by missionaries who probably knocked on doors just as they do today. They converted 38 people in the little town. But prejudice was rife and one night a mob stormed the home of Robert Berrett, throwing stones at the doors and windows. In February 1849 he sold up and left to join the pioneer Mormons who had settled in Salt Lake Valley, Utah, just two years earlier, an area chosen for its isolation so that Mormons could worship freely away from persecution.

It was a brave move for Berrett: he was 52 years old, he and his wife, Sarah, had eight children, and the journey took eight months. All this information is recorded in a book about the Berrett family published in 1978 by LaMar C Berrett, head of the family "Genealogical Executive" in Utah.

According to local historian Helen Rogers, a Berrett appears in the first Steeple Ashton Parish Records of 1538, and Berretts still live there.

Lukis recalls one of the village shops being run by a Berrett and remembers Americans trooping through his mother's living room in the 70s saying: "Gee, so this is where our ancestors prayed."

What they saw is virtually unchanged today, apart from a spacious modern sun room down the far side with views of the lovely garden. One part of the oak-framed cottage is much older than the other, and has wonky wattle-and-daub walls, ceiling beams and two flights of creaking stairs.

There are two inglenook fireplaces, one in the older sitting room and one in the drawing room, a dining room, and a kitchen/diner, where walls are stuck with photographs of Lukis's wife, Michele, a psychotherapist, and their daughter, Anna, ten.

Lukis clearly has mixed feelings about selling the house where he had wild teenage parties when his parents were away. His father died when he was 17, and his mother, who remarried, died from cancer three years ago, after a year of illness during which he was filming his first series of Peak Practice.

"It was very difficult because I was having to commute down here from Derbyshire, only getting to see my own family every fourth weekend. But my mother did at least live to see the first episode on TV."

In his latest film, The Trench, he plays a colonel, and he has just returned to his country retreat from France where he filmed Young Blades, a film about the Three Musketeers.

With such a hectic schedule, it is no longer practical to run a country home with a large garden and Lukis hopes eventually to buy a place in Bath, which he loves, and where fellow Peak Practice colleague, Simon Shepherd, lives.

"This house has great potential, but needs people here permanently. It's too big for a weekend cottage, the place needs some tender loving care, and someone to make it a proper home.

"Perhaps this year we'll fill the house with holly, deck the place out and have one last Christmas here."

A role in the TV medical drama Peak Practice has given Adrian Lukis financial security after years of struggle, writes Natalie Graham.

Peak Practice has brought Adrian Lukis security after some tough years as an actor. Money for Adrian, 40, means he can sleep at night, travel extensively with his family, and buy himself a second guitar.

He plays Dr David Shearer in Peak Practice, ITV's hit medical drama that pulls in more than 12m viewers on Monday nights. So far Adrian has appeared in two series and is contracted for a third. He says: "Filming the 14 episodes, in and around Crich near Matlock, starts in August and ends in March, but what you earn over the seven months can easily last for a year." Before Peak Practice, Adrian's most notable role was as the cad George Wickham in Pride and Prejudice. He regards the BBC's initial fee as "not brilliant", but a lot better than working in a pub, which he has done in the past. The Jane Austen serial has been lucrative in terms of repeats, as he gets a percentage of the original fee again, and overseas sales have done quite well.

Adrian has had a successful career, much of it in theatre, but recognition does not always mean a high income. Five years ago he was thrilled to be invited to join the Royal Shakespeare Company, but in terms of public exposure and financial reward there were limitations. He was paid ₤350 a week, but had to pay ₤65 on rent in Stratford and about ₤140 on his London mortgage.

Peak Practice put an end to the weekly juggling of cash. "To suddenly be in a better position where you make some money is wonderful," he says. "Over Christmas it was great to be able to buy decent seats for shows. We took our little girl to Cinderella at the Piccadilly Theatre, which was absolutely terrific, and David Copperfield at the Greenwich Theatre."

Until the age of nine, Adrian was brought up in Australia, where his father was working with the government on weapons testing. When the family came back to England, Adrian went to the theatre and was enraptured. He studied drama at the University of Hull and after travelling for three years, did a year's course at the Drama Studio in Ealing, west London. His first job in l982 was with the Theatre in Education (TIE) company, attached to the Nottingham Playhouse. A TIE company was a theatre group, formed on Equity minimum pay, that put on plays for schools to involve children in debating.

Today Adrian lives near Greenwich, southeast London, with his American wife Michele, an actress who retrained as a psychotherapist, and their daughter, Anna, eight. The family's home is the first floor of a Victorian house. Thanks to Peak Practice, he and Michele are buying the downstairs flat, which they will convert back into the original house. As well as two extra bedrooms, they will get the bonus of a garden.

When they bought the maisonette for ₤92,000 in late 1991, Adrian took advice from a property correspondent, which proved a costly mistake. He found himself saddled with a punishing ₤72,000 mortgage, fixed at 10.2% for five years.

He explains: "At the time, this Cheltenham & Gloucester offer seemed like a good move, as everyone thought rates would rise. Labour, under Neil Kinnock, was ahead in the opinion polls, and no one expected the Tories to be re-elected. When they won the election in April, l992, interest rates were 10.5%. By February, l994 they were down to 5.25%. We were so broke, that every time we had to pay the mortgage it was like looking up the barrel of a shotgun."

Adrian could have got out of their fix, but he did not have enough money to pay the redemption fee. This would have been six months' gross interest, more than ₤3,600.

John Major's election win was just the start of financial worries for Adrian, who could not get any acting parts and worked in a Blackheath pub for a couple of months. He was on PAYE emergency tax, and coming home after a hard week with less than ₤70. Suddenly he needed much more than survival money. He got an unexpected tax bill for ₤7,000. He had no idea it was due, because of a neglectful accountant. "I had to go and see the Inland Revenue, who were very helpful. We tried to hammer out a solution whereby I would pay them ₤50 a week to clear the debt. After two months they said it was not working because I was barely paying off the interest on the amount I owed."

Adrian contacted an American actress friend who had just come into an inheritance, and to whom he will always be grateful. She asked how much money he needed and put a cheque in the post the same day.

A few years later Adrian was able to pay her back with interest. "The nice thing about the acting business is that friends do help you out when you're in trouble," he says.

Adrian found it a strain having to attend auditions appearing to be successful, yet inwardly feeling very insecure. He says: "A casting director friend of mine said he could sniff an unemployed actor from around the block because you brought in an aura of defeat."

In early 1996, Adrian landed a part in Tolstoy, a play that went on tour for three weeks and ran for two weeks in the West End before it was closed. Adrian was on ₤550 a week in the West End, and ₤375 a week touring, with an ₤80-a-week allowance for rent.

At the end of his stint he was desperate for money. Exploiting his situation, he wrote an article for Tatler about a play in the West End that flopped, for which he was paid ₤30.

As Tolstoy folded, Adrian was available to audition for Peak Practice. The producer was looking for a new doctor to replace Simon Shepherd, but Adrian's role did not come on a plate. An audition was followed by two more interviews. The third was a screen test because there were still six actors in the running for the role.

When the contract came through, Adrian had just written to the gas company and other utilities, asking them to let him pay off ₤10 a week to clear his debts.

Adrian has learnt to be a saver and take a modicum of interest in money for survival's sake. "If you don't have a certain amount of interest in personal finance you are going to be screwed," he says.

When Adrian remortgaged his home last year, he shopped around to try to understand the various deals on offer. He now has a variable-rate mortgage with First Direct, which he hopes to reduce with the odd lump sum whenever possible.

He also makes sure his agent deducts his tax money at source, because he never wants to be caught out again. Adrian pays most of his utility bills by standing order and does his own Vat. What he craves most is artistic freedom that comes with money.

Adrian says: "The luxury of Peak Practice is that all the options are open and I can go back into the theatre without having to worry. I don't want to end up doing work I don't particularly like because I have got to keep meeting payments on things."