Original subtitles

Goshawk there. Look, see it?

Shibden Hall. Mm.

Ever been inside, Aunt?

The Listers don't invite people,

as a rule.

I wonder why, though.

Well, because they're... Well, they're all a bit odd.

Mr. Jessop! Mr. Jessop!

Mr. Jessop!

Oh!

Take the horses! Ma'am, are you all right?

Don't move, lad!

Hyah! Hyah!

This way, through there.

Through here! Come on!

That's it, come on.

Through here. Come on.

That's it. Put him down there.

Shh, shh.

Saddle up Percy. Go and fetch Dr. Kenny.

Percy's been a bit under the weather, ma'am.

This child will bleed to death.

John's gone for Dr. Kenny.

Give the child some brandy. I-I've got to see to...

That's our carriage there. Help yourself.

The man can't have thrown a look behind him!

He just plowed straight through us.

We were scattered to the four corners, willy-nilly!

Your coachman is going to couple your horses

to our carriage, Miss Walker, and drive you home in that.

What about the little boy?

It was the Hardcastles, in the other vehicle.

They're tenants, new tenants of ours,

just moving into Roydelands today.

His leg... the bone, it's...

it's sticking out of the thigh,

out of the flesh, and there's blood,

a lot of blood.

I-I've sent for Dr. Kenny.

The man should be strung up.

Pour them some brandy, Marian.

Will you have some brandy, Miss Walker?

Your niece, Miss Lister, has been our savior.

You know, you reminded me, Miss Marian,

when you and your servants came racing to rescue us,

of your elder sister.

You were calm, you were decisive,

you seemed to know the drill.

I said to Ann, that's exactly how I imagine

Miss Lister would've coped with the crisis.

How is she?

What's she up to?

Anne? Oh, uh... Miss Walker.

She was on the south coast. She was in Hastings.

Yes, until recently, she was.

She was in Hastings. I've just said that!

He's deaf.

We are talking about Anne.

Yes, Jeremy, Anne, in Hastings.

God knows why she's in Hastings.

She'd set up home with Miss Vere Hobart.

She's the cousin of Lord and Lady Stuart de Rothesay.

She should be here. She met them in Paris.

It's her estate,

as she never tires of reminding everybody.

He's the ambassador there,

and she was acting as a sort of...

companion to Miss Hobart,

but now, yes, she's on the way home

via various friends' houses.

We're expecting her on Friday.

And... and, uh, will she be staying long?

Oh, I doubt it.

England is barely big enough to contain her.

She will travel... Paris, Italy, the Pyrenees.

She was mentioning Russia.

Russia? If she finds a new groom.

Our groom was shot. Out of a tree.

In York.

Fancy. How?

Poor George.

I-is that why she's coming back?

No groom?

Oh, good Lord, no. That wouldn't stop her.

She's coming back because something went wrong

in Hastings.

Obviously.

So much drama, always, with Anne.

It's uncanny.

However far away my sister goes,

however long she's gone for,

whatever crises are happening here,

she always, within minutes,

manages to inveigle herself

into becoming the main topic of any given conversation.

Oh, good God.

Whoa!

Can you help this man down?

Steady there. We struck a pothole.

The driver was torn from his seat,

and his arm was dislocated and shattered.

Well, then, ma'am, it's lucky you were there to step in.

No one else seemed disposed to rise to the occasion.

I had no intention of arriving home

any later than necessary.

How are you, Booth? Well, ma'am. Thank you.

That was a reckless undertaking...

madam.

All were given the opportunity

to alight and walk.

And get my trunk.

Eugénie.

This is Eugénie.

Oh.

H-how do?

Must be my driving.

Never mind.

Booth!

I'm off.

I've been an Icarus.

I've flown too near the Sun...

and now I crash back to Earth at Shibden,

shabby little Shibden...

And my shabby little family.

"Earl Grey went to the levee this afternoon

"for the purpose of having an audience with the king.

"We do not yet know what the result

"of that interview was, but of this we are assured:

"That he will not abandon a single material provision

"of the Reform Bill,

"and that he will not continue in office

"unless armed with full powers

"to ensure the success of that measure.

"We have reason to believe

"that the intrigues of the faction

behind the throne have not"...

She's here.

She's here! Is she here?

Argus, shoo.

Oh! Come on, she's here.

Let's go.

She's here. I've seen her.

She's here? She's arrived.

Ma'am.

What's the Lister chaise doing out?

It'll rot where it is.

And what's the matter with Percy?

Just a chill on his stomach, ma'am.

Go and help your brother, and that's Eugénie with him.

She's my new maid.

Aunt. Oh!

How are you? Oh, such a tragedy!

The whole household's in shock.

Oh, George, yes. That was unfortunate.

You need to be more careful with the servants.

Hello, Marian.

Cordingley. Hemingway.

Ma'am.

Where is he?

Shall I get the dinner served now, then, ma'am?

Hello, Father.

Ah, decided to drop in for five minutes, did you?

Yes.

I'm delighted to see you as well.

So what went wrong in Hastings, eh?

Nothing... went wrong in Hastings.

I'm hungry. Are you hungry?

Is dinner ready?

Eugénie, I'm Joseph Booth, footman.

I'll take them.

She all right? She don't speak English.

Oh, well, that'll be interesting.

She's gonna have to get another groom.

I'm no'an a pack horse. Have you told her?

Oh, aye, that's a conversation we've had.

"Oi, Your Majesty..." Shh!

"You need a new groom,

because I am not lugging this bugger anywhere ever again."

On the bright side, you were only lugging it from Halifax,

not Paris or Milan or Madrid

or the Pyrenees.

How did it happen?

What?

George Playforth being shot out of a tree.

Oh, he was... He was up a tree.

Why was a groom up a tree?

I did read him your letter.

I did read you Anne's letter, Jeremy.

He was frightening the carrion crows out of the trees

so the Norcliffes' gamekeeper could shoot them.

Then he was shot himself.

Stupid bugger. Poor George.

He knew very little about it.

He lingered for a day or two, but...

I don't think there was anyone in.

I attended the postmortem.

The cranium was sawn off.

Oh.

It was fascinating.

So I assume death was caused by pressure on the brain

from the extravasated blood?

We had a bit of a drama here on Monday.

Did Marian tell you?

Yes, I explained about why the chaise was out.

Yes, Miss Walker and her aunt had to borrow it to get home.

Oh, and the little boy had to have his leg amputated.

Did she tell you?

Yes, I told Anne she'd have enjoyed that.

The son of the new tenants at Roydelands.

Does she know about Briggs? What about Briggs?

Oh, yes, uh, Briggs is ill.

How ill? When? Dropsy.

He won't be able to collect the six-monthly rents,

and they're due next week.

Well, who will collect them, then?

Who will collect the rents?

Excellent.

Miss Briggs, is your father in?

Who is it, Louisa?

Oh, Miss Lister.

Mrs. Briggs, how do you do?

Is your husband in?

He struggles with visitors, ma'am.

That's why I've not been answering the door.

Briggs.

Briggs.

Can you own me, Briggs?

It's Miss Lister.

Anne Lister.

Miss Lister?

I'm sorry to see you like this.

I need to talk to you about Shibden.

Briggs?

I shall collect the rents myself on Tuesday.

You, ma'am?

Y-you yourself?

Who else is going to do it, hmm?

I need an up-to-date record.

I assume it's all written down.

Any arrears?

My father didn't...

Did make a record on a bit of paper,

but he lost it.

Mrs. Briggs,

can you put your hands on the Shibden estate rent book

for Miss Lister?

Can I take this? It's yours, ma'am.

On top of that...

Red Beck's flooded again in the lower fields.

Third year it's happened.

Then there's your coal.

What about my coal?

Shibden's rich in coal, a-always has been,

but with all these new steam engines

popping up everywhere, devouring the stuff,

your coal is worth more to you now than...

Than ever before, more than stone quarries.

The Rawson Brothers'd pay a premium for it,

and any number of others.

Makes no sense just letting it sit there.

Eugénie?

Eugénie?

Oh.

Have you been drinking?

How much...

Why have you taken so much, Eugénie?

Eh?

Oh.

Oh, Eugénie.

Are you...

George Playforth? She says they were engaged.

Did he know about... Yes. She says so.

She said he was gonna marry her

as soon as they got back to Halifax.

Happen the Gin'll work.

She looks sick enough.

Why don't you send her to bed?

It might've come away by tomorrow morning.

There'll be blood. We've a bucket.

I don't know why I'm risking my neck.

No, and why've you involved me?

Because I didn't know what else to do!

I've never had to deal with anything like this before.

I suppose these things can happen.

Well, they wouldn't if people kept their...

Themselves to themselves.

Yeah, but...

she's French, so...

What did she say? Pourquoi?

She thinks she should tell Miss Lister.

Why? Pourquoi?

What's she saying?

Nothing.

What did she say? Find her the bucket.

Go lie down.

Va te coucher.

How long's he been like this? A week.

Is he glandered?

Oh, Lord, I hope not.

Put a mustard poultice on him.

And keep him indoors. Yes, ma'am.

Oh, Argus.

In the way again.

Where have you been?

You talking to me?

It would've been helpful for the servants to know

whether you were going to be in for lunch or not.

I never eat lunch.

You do know that, Marian.

We've been having the same conversation

for the last 20 years.

Is it wise to collect the rents?

I think it would be unwise not to.

We'd be hard up.

No, you!

I mean you.

Do you never, ever worry about what things look like?

It's all well and good being different

in York or Paris, but this is Halifax!

People talk,

and it isn't always very nice.

People are saying you drove the high flyer

back from Wibsey the other day.

And? Well, did you?

Because it's all over Halifax.

Someone had to. They've had cholera in Wibsey.

I wasn't gonna hang around, and anyway,

why shouldn't I collect my rents,

if no one else can?

Because it's a man's job.

Oh, yes, that came for you.

Is it Mrs. Lawton's handwriting?

Does she know about what happened in Hastings?

Did you fall out with your...

Miss Hobart?

Excuse me.

Mrs. Lawton wants to stay here for the night on Wednesday next

to break her journey to York.

She'll be with her men and her maid.

Very good, ma'am.

All the usual sleeping arrangements.

Ma'am.

Elizabeth.

How's Eugénie settling in?

Oh, very well, ma'am, thank you.

Sunday, the 15th of April, 1832.

The truth is out.

She will go to Italy...

But not with me.

Anne!

This is Miss Anne Lister,

of Shibden Hall in Halifax.

Anne,

this is Captain Donald Cameron, of Lochiel.

Miss Lister.

Miss Hobart has told me so much about you.

Really? How thrilling for you.

I've invited Donald to dine with us this evening.

I'm going to get off

until this evening.

Miss Lister.

I thought you were out. I decided against it.

Donald's asked me to marry him.

I shan't say no.

Yes?

Your father and Marian are in the drawing room.

I thought you might have joined us

by the fire for a few minutes.

I would have,

but I've everything to unpack, and...

I know we're not very interesting.

It's not you, Aunt. It's never you.

What happened in Hastings

with Miss Hobart?

Nothing.

Odd, the other day... The accident.

Miss Walker's such a curious little thing.

The aunt's rather vulgar.

I think their money comes from manufacture.

Miss Walker, painfully shy,

which is odd, because she must be

one of the most eligible young women in Halifax.

She must be worth 3,000 a year at least.

But so isolated, so alone.

By all accounts, not quite the full shilling.

Not "not the full shilling," that's unkind, but...

something, I don't know.

I felt really very sorry for her.

Of course, they surround her with uncles and aunts

and cousins to guard her fortune, but...

I think what she really needs

is someone to care about her,

never mind the money.

Do you have any, uh, excursions planned,

Miss Walker?

A holiday?

There has been some talk

of a few weeks in the Lake District

with her cousin, Miss Rawson.

Catherine Rawson.

Well, I am satisfied there's no organic disease.

There may be some trauma,

whether in the body or in the...

From the accident.

But I do think your aunt

is right to suggest something like

a-a jaunt to the lakes.

Can that be arranged? Oh, yes.

Will you write to Catherine, dear?

She'll write to Catherine, or I will.

You see, I think she just needs taking out of herself.

Perhaps she spends too much time on her own.

Was she, uh, ever introduced

I-in the assembly rooms in Halifax?

No, the death of both her parents

at around the time that might have happened

meant that no, she wasn't,

and since John... Her brother, my nephew...

Died on his honeymoon in Naples,

we've been very wary of fortune hunters,

and there have been several.

Might have been better for you, dear, if your sister

hadn't moved so far away when she got married.

You miss Elizabeth, don't you?

But she did, so...

Wrapping people up so cozily at home

isn't always as kind as it might seem,

certainly not for those inclined

towards the melancholy.

Sometimes, the best thing one can prescribe

isn't medicine,

but a little bit of adventure.

Hello?

There's someone else here now.

Knock, knock. Hello?

Uh, Mr. Hardcastle?

Aye. How do.

I'm Thomas Sowden.

I live over at Upper Southolm Farm just over that way.

Well, come in, lad.

We... we heard about the accident.

Me mother's sent me with a few bits and pieces.

She said she'd like the blanket back,

eventually... me mother, if... You know, when...

When you're done with it.

You been in the wars?

Oh, I brought this as well.

I make 'em.

This one's called...

Jerry Greenwood.

He's 19 years old,

and he's an infantryman

in the Duke of York's.

He's a very brave fellow,

but something of a rebel,

and a rascal.

He's been shot twice,

nearly drowned once, and once,

he was whipped.

But he always comes up smelling of roses.

He can read and write too. He's very clever.

Thought you might like him.

Then you can tell me what he's been up to.

What do we say?

Thank you.

He's not spoken since it happened.

Tell your mother thank you, um...

Uh, it's Thomas. Thomas.

Uh, if you need a hand with the farm, Mr. Hardcastle,

I-I can give you a few hours.

Well, it'll have to be after rent day,

if that's all right... Me father will expect me

full on at home till then.

Aye, thanks, lad.

Mr. Briggs told me I was missing a trick

not leasing out the coal beds.

You don't want to get involved in all that.

Why?

Why? Why not?

Why don't I?

Nasty business, coal.

Morning. Good morning.

Morning, Howarth.

Naylor. Morning!

How are you?

Morning. Hi, Naylor.

Good morning. Carry on.

Morning. Morning.

Good morning.

Morning. Morning.

Morning. Morning, how do?

Are you Hardcastle? That's right.

Sorry to hear about your son. How is he?

So-so, ma'am.

I'll drop in, take a look at him when I can.

Do we know any more about the fool driving the gig?

No, ma'am. He should be horsewhipped.

I'd do it.

Mallinson, do you have a table for me?

You're right over there, ma'am.

Hardcastle. Sir.

What I'm saying is...

I understand what you're saying.

The state of the roofs last, um... last January,

I agreed a price of £48 with Captain Lister

that we both felt was nearer the mark.

But the rent isn't negotiable, Sowden,

so if last January, you managed to browbeat my father...

Browbeat?

Into agreeing a lower price,

then you've only managed to fool yourself

into believing that that's acceptable, because it isn't.

Yeah, but until those roofs are fixed...

And why aren't they fixed?

If this was a problem in January,

why do the roofs remain unfixed?

It's your responsibility.

It's in your lease that you are responsible

for the maintenance of the building,

and, presumably,

Captain Lister only agreed to a lower price

on a temporary footing in January

so that you can spend the remaining £2

on repairs to the roofs,

as our contribution to the costs.

That wasn't my understanding of the agreement.

I'll come and look at your roofs myself tomorrow.

We can agree what needs doing then,

but in the meantime, the rent,

as per the lease, is £50.

Just hang on...

My rents, Sowden,

are calculated fairly,

and meticulously fairly at that.

They're not arrived at randomly.

No one is expected to pay more than is fair,

just as I wouldn't expect to take more than is fair.

Now, if you want to be treated fairly,

you will treat me fairly

and you will respect the terms of your lease.

There's no shortage of good men

looking for land and property to rent

and who will be perfectly prepared

to work both to full advantage without all of this nonsense.

The choice is yours.

Either way works for me.

I've only got £48 on me.

Then you owe me 2,

plus the arrears from January,

which, if it is used to mend the roofs,

if that was the agreement, I won't collect,

but I will expect to see

the repairs done to my satisfaction

within an agreed time limit,

all of which I will discuss with you and your family

tomorrow morning, when I visit you first thing.

There'll come a time...

when tenants throw landlords off land.

You know that, don't you?

Well, then, Sowden...

When the time comes,

us landlords must make sure we give as good as we get.

Thank you, ma'am, and sorry.

Bottomley?

I'm not going to renew your lease.

You're sitting on good land

that a younger man with a family could really improve.

Mr. Washington?

Mr. Booth.

Is Miss Lister in? She's asked to see me.

Three of my better tenants

all separately mentioned your name today

when I was collecting my rents.

Ah.

Of course, it's delicate. Mr. Briggs is still with us.

Oh, discretion is my middle n...

Actually, it's George.

My middle... Not that you need to know that.

Where do you live? Crow Nest, ma'am.

The Walkers' estate.

I look after it for Miss Walker and her sister,

Mrs. Sutherland, who's... She's in Scotland.

Yes, Miss Walker. I know.

I have a house in the grounds with my wife and six daughters.

Six? Good Lord. Well done.

Yes.

Yes, they're a... They're a handful,

but they're a delight, bless them.

You see, I don't intend to be here very long.

I might go to Paris or Copenhagen

or Moscow or Virginia.

Nothing's decided yet. America?

Two of my ancestors went there last century

to import wood... Not very successfully.

They both died,

and my father fought there in the war.

Really?

He was at Lexington and Concord.

He was in Boston during the Tea Party.

But yes, I don't intend to stay here very long,

and I need someone competent

who will write to me regularly,

wherever I am, and keep me informed,

well-informed,

someone with an eye for details,

someone who is capable enough and confident enough

to make considered, balanced decisions,

should the need arise in my absence.

So, just to be clear, ma'am, you...

You own...

Shibden's your estate, not... not your father's?

My uncle left it to me.

You understand I'm only asking

so I know who I would be answerable...

Me.

First and last.

My father has no head for business.

It would be a burden to him.

My uncle knew that when he drew up his will.

Well, ma'am, yes, as I say, I'd be very interested indeed.

Good. What do you know about coal?

Well, I know you've a lot of it.

Since the Listerwick pit closed 40 years since,

you not been exploiting it.

Hmm.

Briggs said there's a number of people

interested in leasing the beds.

He mentioned the Rawson brothers.

No, I'd not lease it to the Rawsons.

Why?

Well, I'd not lease it to anyone.

I'd mine it myself.

Really?

Would you? You mean sink your own pit?

Aye, or reopen Listerwick.

And would you know how?

No, but I'd soon find out.

I know people who do.

Why not the Rawsons?

I assume you know them socially, ma'am.

Don't worry about that.

But it's a cutthroat business, coal.

People can make a lot of money in it.

As far as I understand it,

they don't always play by the rules.

They're not pleasant people to do business with.

Jeremiah, the younger one, he's manageable,

but Christopher, he thinks he's above the law,

and happen that's the way it is

when you're a banker and a magistrate

and you run the town, but...

The Rawsons' Law Hill pit must go

straight into the Shibden coal beds up at Conery Wood.

Hmm.

It wouldn't surprise me for a second

if they were stealing it off you already.

I-I might be wrong, but...

coal trespass is very hard to prove,

and do you see, ma'am,

if you had your own people under the ground,

you'd be in a much better position

to keep an eye on it all,

and you would certainly make more money.

Don't.

Pardon, Madame.

Ma'am?

Mrs. Lawton's carriage has been spotted.

Hello, Freddy.

How are you?

Stiff and hungry, but otherwise all right.

Sink your own coal pits? Mm.

Won't it cost money? Would you know how?

Geology has always been a passion of mine, as you know,

and there are numberless books in the library

on all aspects of the subject, so...

It'll be ruinous.

She'll pour good money after bad.

She'll end up being obliged to sell all.

You may own Shibden

through your nefarious machinations,

oh, yes, but some of us were left a right to live here.

If the estate is run at a profit, Marian,

as opposed to a loss, and the books balance,

which they now will, then there's no danger...

Anne has just evicted one of our oldest tenants.

It was a kindness.

Is that how you'll fund your pit sinking?

He couldn't pay his rents. It was a humiliation to him.

Now he has nowhere to live. He has a family.

They treat him worse than a dog.

Well, then maybe he's never been very nice to them.

I need people who can farm efficiently,

and if you are worried about the stability

of your home, then your very best bet

is to leave any sentiment out of it

and let me run things how I see fit.

He's nearly 80 years old. And that's why he can't farm.

You come back here, change everything,

then you'll just be off again in a week.

Mrs. Lawton doesn't want to hear this.

H-how... how is Mr. Lawton?

Oh... irritable.

I hardly see him.

Tell me about Hastings.

No.

You should marry...

a man.

Seriously, Fred, think about it.

You could have a title, you could have money,

you could have everything that you want.

You wouldn't have to sleep with him,

if you found the right one, not even once.

He might be as grateful for the fig leaf cover-up as you are,

and then you can do what you like.

Have we met?

Freddy, no one knows you better than I do.

Then you do know that I could never marry a man,

not for any reason, under any circumstance.

It would be perverse. It would be absurd.

But the reality is that...

I thoroughly intend to live with someone I love.

I thoroughly intend to spend my evening hour

with someone who loves me,

someone who is there all of the time,

to share everything with,

not someone who just drops in every now and then

whenever her irritable husband permits it.

And the reality is that that will never happen.

This is what you can't see, and until you do,

you're going to keep on getting into scrapes

with women like Vere Hobart,

and you're going to keep getting upset

when they get married, which they will.

I tell you these things because I care about you,

because I love you,

and because there's probably no one else that would.

Let's go and live in Paris. Leave Charles.

Why are you always on the run, Fred?

That's an interesting way of looking at it.

I've often wondered if you're running

and not traveling.

From what? All the scrapes I've been in?

From a world that only sees how odd you are

and not how clever you are.

I think the only thing

I've ever really been running from is the banal.

Banality and mediocrity are the only things

that have ever really frightened me.

Fred, I can't run the gauntlet like you can.

I don't have your genius for people,

for running rings around polite society,

persuading everyone that black is white,

or pink, or whatever color you choose it to be.

If and when you do find someone,

someone who will defy the lot of them

and make a conspicuous commitment to you,

well, then, she'll be a very special

and particular kind of person.

I just...

I worry that person just doesn't exist.

Not in this life.

Come on.

Come on, are we doing this?

Mm.

You're happy for that.

And then tomorrow, you'll leave me.

Miss Lister at Shibden? Yes, ma'am.

I just wanted to assure you

that it won't affect the time I spend on my duties here,

with you, on your estate.

Um...

Do please tell Miss Lister that if she needs

any sort of reference for you,

I'd be happy to give it.

I didn't know Miss Lister was back.

Oh, very much so, ma'am.

We must visit her, William.

My wife is rather a fan of Miss Lister, Miss Walker.

And she collected her own rents just this last week.

Of course she did!

Well, with Mr. Briggs not being himself,

on his last legs... Er, leg...

You see, that's exactly the sort of thing she'd do.

I've always been a great champion of Miss Lister,

haven't I, William,

despite what others say.

You see, I appreciate her clever mind

and her adventurous spirit.

It is true, she isn't always as feminine

as some people would like her to be,

but she's an original.

She's natural.

She's true to her own nature,

and as she herself says,

when we leave nature behind,

we leave our only steady guide.

And we can hardly blame Miss Lister

if Nature was in an odd freak on the day she made her.

Thank you, Washington. Ma'am.

Mrs. Priestley. Mr. Priestley.

Have you ever met her, Ann?

Yes, once, years ago.

I was 19,

and she came to tea here with me and Elizabeth

after my mother and father had died.

She walked in the garden with us.

She stayed for an hour or two, but...

then we never saw her again.

Well, you wouldn't. She's hardly ever here.

You can never pin her down.

We should pay her a visit while she is here,

and you should come with us.

It would take you out of yourself, Ann.

It'd do you good.

She's very entertaining.

I'd like that. And very clever.

And very kind.

Actually, when you get to know her,

she's a very good friend to have.

How is Mr. Briggs, Dr. Kenny?

Uh, a matter of days only, ma'am, I would say.

We must do something for his widow

when the time comes.

And how about the little Hardcastle boy?

Oh, he'll live, and Miss Walker.

Yes, I saw Miss Walker the day before yesterday.

Not entirely recovered from the accident, but...

I didn't realize she was hurt.

Oh, she wasn't, physically.

She was shaken, shocked,

but yes, no bones were broken,

although she has always had a very delicate spine.

No, I was called in to...

She suffers with her nerves.

She lives alone, and then, socially,

she's surrounded almost entirely

by people a lot older than herself,

and she has so few diversions.

Between you and me, if her money were to fly away

and she had to work for a living,

the girl would be perfectly well.

I hope you don't discuss any members of my family

with your other patients, Dr. Kenny.

Marian must go over to Crow Nest.

She said she would.

This Marian, our Marian?

Younger company, to cheer Miss Walker up.

Surely she's more likely

to bore someone into a paralytic stupor.

Well, how about you? Why don't you go?

The accident happened on your land.

I did once take tea with the Mrs. Walker years ago,

before the older one got married

and went off to Scotland.

Really?

They were dull and stupid...

It's too strong a word...

And certainly no oil painting.

Ma'am? Sorry, ma'am.

Mr. and Mrs. Priestley are downstairs

and with Mr. Priestley's cousin, Miss Walker,

of Crow Nest.

Well, well, well.

My only regret is that it doesn't go far enough

as regards addressing the anxieties

of the ordinary working men and women...

Mrs. Priestley. Miss Lister.

How delightful.

We had no idea you were back.

Well, it wasn't exactly the plan,

but here we are.

Anne.

Not until Miss Walker told us yesterday,

and then we hardly dared believe it.

Miss Walker?

Mm.

I've heard so much about you lately.

How are you?

I'm very well, thank you.

Good.

Good.

Has my sister been entertaining you all

with her turgid and uninformed opinions

about the Reform Bill?

Please forgive us for taking the liberty

of calling on you before you'd called on us.

Ah.

In the terms of the new Reform Bill,

I find myself for the first time

excluded from the franchise by my sex.

What do you mean? Have you voted before?

No, of course not. However...

You see, I wouldn't put it past her if she had.

No, the point is, women have never been

specifically denied the vote before.

Now it's written, or it will be, in statute.

Universal male suffrage.

I have 30-odd tenants who may vote,

but I, the landowner, may not.

Isn't that curious?

But surely, that's always been that way.

Mm. A male 10-pound householder down in Halifax

may also now vote... Such is progress...

But I have been told very specifically

and very definitely that I may not.

You may not, Miss Walker,

and how many rolling acres and tenants do you have?

Exactly. So many you don't even remember,

yet no vote.

Don't talk to me about progress.

It's change that's unnecessary

and entirely in the wrong direction.

But the point is, the bill enfranchises

the hardworking men, not just the landed interests.

Yes. Why, though?

Because society is changing before our eyes.

Economic power is moving away from the land

and into the towns, and those who govern us

must adapt to that change,

as they are doing, thank goodness,

or risk revolution.

Really?

Who have you been talking to, Marian?

Who have you got all this nonsense from?

No one. I haven't "got it" from anyone.

And it isn't nonsense. It's my own opinion.

Oh.

No, no, no, don't get up.

How is everyone?

Miss Walker.

Sit here, Aunt.

How nice to see you again.

I just, uh...

I wanted to take the opportunity

of visiting again with my cousin

to say thank you again

for your kind hospitality to me and my aunt the other day

in our moment of distress.

Oh.

How are you feeling, my dear?

Mm.

Would you like some Madeira, Dr. Kenny?

Oh, thank you.

No, actually, Dr. Kenny,

now you've seen to my aunt's leg,

I'd like you to look at my cart horse.

He's glandered.

Hemingway, could you show Dr. Kenny to the stables?

Tick-tock.

Odd little man, Dr. Kenny. Don't you think, Miss Walker?

Mincing walk, makes me suspicious.

Of what? Not sure.

You need to be careful, Ann. Miss Lister keeps a journal.

Oh, she's famous for her journal.

She records everything, absolutely everything,

in great detail.

Yes, you must be certain

to stay on the right side of her.

Otherwise, you might end up in it.

You don't have to offend me

to grace the pages of my journal.

Sometimes, I write about people I really like.

Do you keep a journal, Marian?

Me? Oh, no.

Thought I to myself,

shall I make up to Miss Walker?

Though she'll scarcely understand it herself,

I can see that the poor girl

already seems thoroughly in love with me,

and what she lacks in rank

she certainly makes up for in fortune.

Shall I stay here at Shibden

and restore its drooping fortunes

and endeavor to make wealthy little Miss Walker

my wife?

I can't do it. Hmm?

I know he's in pain, but I can't do it.

It's all right.

Miss Lister for Miss Walker.

Is she in?

♪ Behind her back, she's Gentleman Jack ♪

♪ The Yorkshire lady of renown ♪

♪ Ever so fine, won't toe the line ♪

♪ Speak her name and gentlemen frown ♪

♪ At Shibden Hall, she had them all ♪

♪ The fairer sex fell under her spell ♪

♪ Dapper and bright, she held them tight ♪

♪ Handsome Anne seduced them well ♪

♪ Gentleman Jack, oh, Gentleman Jack ♪

♪ Watch your back, you're under attack ♪

♪ Their husbands are coming, you'd better start running ♪

♪ For nobody likes a Jack-the-lass ♪

♪ Jack-the-lass, Jack-the-lass ♪

♪ No one likes a Jack-the-lass ♪

♪ The code is cracked, your bags are packed ♪

♪ The knives are out for Gentleman Jack ♪

Miss Lister. Miss Walker.

Miss Lister is back.

You do know what say about her, don't you?

She likes the ladies.

Are you a man? (

Well, that's a... question.

The Rawsons want your coal, Miss Lister.

You think because I'm a woman, I'll be persuaded to take less?

No.

All she needs to do now

is realize that the nature of what she feels for me

is love.

Don't let her run rings around you over a price.

Because she will.

You're playing with fire.

I'll not be bullied on my own land.

Above ground or under it.