All language subtitles for Gentleman.Jack.S01E01.WEB.x264-PHOENiX-eng

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.