All language subtitles for belgravia

This is a wonderful surprise.

I would enter
the Valley of the Dead

if I thought I had a chance
of winning your heart.

I'm just saying
that I won't marry John Bellasis.

How dare you disobey me?

What is this favour?

When they next
go to their country place,

- I want you to go with them.
- What, go to Glanville?

She knows something about Pope
she's not telling.

She wasn't thinking and she let it
slip that it's not about business,

and Mr Pope is not a stranger.

- I don't know what to tell him.
- Tell him anything.

As long as the information
keeps coming, so will the tips.

Search the letters he's kept.

Look for any mention of the names
Charles or Pope.

No matter how old.
The older, the better.

The secret lies
in the history of them both.

I know it.

- What have you to do in Manchester?
- I want to see some people.

I've got a few ideas
I'd like to investigate

- before I talk about them.
- Even to us?

- What about your work?
- Oh, I'll only be gone a few days.

Ah! Turton, there you are.
Did you find it?

We, er, seem to have no more of
that year left in the cellar, sir.

I'll send a note round
in the morning.

So...

you have something for me?

Good evening, sir.
May I offer you a drink?

Yes. Brandy.

- Well?
- So, I did find something.

A letter
about a child called Charles.

It says, "He's doing well
in his Bible studies,

"which Mr Trenchard
will be pleased to hear."

Bible studies?

- When was it written?
- 20 years ago.

His guardian hopes
he'll suit a career in the Church.

This is addressed to Mr Trenchard?

And signed by
the Reverend Benjamin Pope,

but... the boy is not his son.

And what makes you say that?

Because he writes as an employee
filling out a report.

I thought Pope
only appealed to Mr Trenchard

when Charles was already in London,
starting in business.

Now you say Trenchard has taken an
interest in him from his childhood?

Is this more
than a business arrangement?

That appears to be the case, sir.

Right, well, let me see.

Put the letter on the table
and I will put down the money.

Thank you very much, sir.

Where's the other page?

- The other page, sir?
- Don't get smart with me!

The first page.

The one with the address
of the writer?

Where does
Reverend Benjamin Pope live?

Oh, that page.

I'm afraid that page
will cost another £20.

WHAT!?

- If you could keep your voice down.
- You scoundrel!

No, sir.

I'm a poor man who must
make the most of any chance I get.

- So, will you accept my offer?
- Oh, to hell with your offer!

Then if you will excuse me,
I have things to see to.

Good night, sir.

Wait!

- Oh!
- What is it?

They've announced the engagement
of Mr Bellasis.

- What?
- To Lady Maria Grey. We knew that.

Any word from Oliver?

He sent a telegram from Derby,

so he only had the final leg
of his journey ahead of him.

So fast, makes one's head spin.
What's he really doing there?

Why would he tell me?

I am sorry, Mr Pope is in London.
Did he say when he'd be back?

No, sir.

- I understand things are going well.
- Yes.

As long as we can
settle our cotton needs.

You know he has plans
for a fixed supplier in India?

Yes, so he told me.

This must be a good place to work.

I am sure you are all content.

Why should you ask that, sir?
Why wouldn't they be content?

Oh, no reason, just curious.

Riley! Get on with your work!

If you've seen enough, sir,
I've a lot to do today.

Hey, mister.

Why d'ya ask that in there?

- Are we content?
- Well, are you?

No, we bloody well are not.

Are you here
to make trouble for Mr Pope?

What sort of trouble could I make?

Come to the King's Head Tavern
in the Market Square at eight,

and find out.

- Will you be there, Mr Riley?
- I will.

But I'm not the one
you must speak to.

The Countess of Templemore.

What?

Well, they have just brought tea,
so, can I give you some?

How nice that would be,

just as soon as you tell me
what this means.

"If you will call this afternoon
at four,

"I think we might
plan another visit to Bishopsgate.

"Caroline Brockenhurst."

She's a good companion on a drive,
as you know better than I.

You've brought her up so well.

Where did you find the letter,
in her room?

- Whom do you visit in Bishopsgate?
- Do we visit anyone in particular?

You tell me.

My dear, something's troubling you.

I hope you'll allow me
to know what it is.

Oh...

I'm not troubled.
I have cause for celebration.

Did you see The Times this morning,
or The Gazette?

We don't get The Gazette,
and I haven't read The Times.

We've announced the engagement
of Maria to John Bellasis.

- Ah.
- Won't you congratulate me?

- Of course. Has a date been set?
- No. But I hate long engagements.

Lady Maria Grey.

Mama.

You said you were going to visit
Lady Stafford this afternoon.

As you can see, I changed my mind.

So, I could discuss the announcement
with Lady Brockenhurst.

- Don't sulk.
- I'm not sulking.

I am silent
because I have nothing to say.

- Mrs Trenchard.
- Heavens.

What an afternoon
this is turning out to be.

If I'd known you had people here,
I'd have left you alone.

Delighted.
May I present Mrs Trenchard?

This is Lady Templemore.

I think we saw each other
at the soiree here a while ago.

Did we? It may be so.

We're celebrating
Maria's engagement.

Yes. I saw it in The Times.

But I'll leave you now
and come back another day.

No, don't. We're going.

Maria?

You go, Mama.

I'd like the chance
to catch up with Lady Brockenhurst.

Yes, go, Corinne, we'll send
Maria back in the carriage later.

- I'd rather stay.
- I wouldn't hear of it.

Jenkins, would you please
escort Lady Templemore

down to her carriage?

Go, Mama, please. I won't be long.

Very well.

But I leave under protest.

Don't worry.
I'm not going to marry him,

- if that's what you're thinking.
- Am I allowed to say I'm glad?

Me too. Although, I dread hearing
from my brother and sister-in-law.

Yes, Jenkins, what is it?

The Countess of Templemore

says she will wait outside
in her carriage, m'lady...

...for Lady Maria.

Thank you, Jenkins.
Lady Maria will be down in a minute.

You'd better go, my dear.
There's no point antagonising her.

If you see him,

please tell him not to believe
what he reads in the newspapers.

And... give him my love.

Evening, sir.

- How do you do? I'm Oliver Trenchard.
- William Brent.

Jacob Astley.

What is your connection to Pope?

A, er, close friend of mine
has invested heavily

- in Pope's business.
- Has he, indeed?

Why do you say that, sir?
Your tone makes me anxious.

Well, I expect he finds Mr Pope
very charming and friendly.

As we all did.

He comes across as a nice
and congenial fellow.

- Now I am concerned.
- I'm afraid you're right to be so.

Your friend
should withdraw his money,

the first chance he gets.

But that would ruin Mr Pope,
if he withdrew completely.

You will find us ungenerous,
which I'd do anything to avoid,

but if... if you are concerned
for your friend's welfare...

You know he bought the mill
from the widow of old Samuel Girton?

Well, I do now.

Well, she's a nice woman, but, er,
quite nervous and lonely.

I mean, we'd all but agreed
a deal with her

which would have protected her
for the remainder of her life,

but Pope came at night,
frightened her out of her wits.

How?

Told her tales of imminent ruin
that only he could save her from,

until she agreed to set aside
the contract with us

and sell to him.

All the time threatening
a defenceless old woman.

Ah, I see.

And there is more.

He cheats the customs men
when he imports cotton.

It's undervalued when it's shipped
and so he avoids half the tax

when it's unloaded here in England.

I counted him
among my closest friends.

But he's not to be trusted.

Tell your friend to get
his money out while he still can.

- What's your connection to this?
- I was to be a manager at the mill,

if Mr Brent and Mr Astley
had have taken over.

Pope knew it, but he hired me
to work at a loom instead.

- Why did you take the job?
- I've a wife and four bairns to feed.

Of course, he was very careful
to tell people

he wanted to soften the blow
of my losing the other job.

You think that was not his motive?

I'm sorry to say it, but with Pope,
his kindness is all on the surface.

It was to humiliate me
and I had no choice but to let him.

How much of this
are you prepared to write down?

We would not testify.

I'll not go back to the law
for any man.

Understood.
I only need to convince my friend.

It won't come to court.

Well, then,
we can help you with that.

You'll have the letters
in the morning.

My friend will be hard to convince.
As you say, Pope is very charming.

People seem to like him.

- They like him until they know him.
- Hmm.

- Some more coffee, ma'am?
- Not for me. Maybe for Mrs Oliver.

Good morning, Mother.

Your hair looks very nice.

Turton's gone
to fetch you some coffee.

Won't you have some eggs?

I don't believe so.

You seem distracted, my dear.

- Just arrived for you, ma'am.
- Thank you.

I'll leave you to your letter.

- But you haven't had a thing.
- I'm not hungry.

I hope you enjoy your luncheon.

Who did you say you were...
meeting?

Will you ask Ellis
to join me in the drawing room?

I've received a letter
from Jane Croft, Miss Sophia's maid.

It seems you have
stayed in touch with her.

Yes, ma'am.

- Why were you writing about Mr Pope?
- Was I, ma'am?

"Miss Ellis refers to a
Mr Charles Pope, which concerns me.

"I will be in London next Sunday
and I'd like to discuss it with you.

"But I don't care to write more
on the subject."

I may have said the master'd taken
an interest in him, but that's all.

While I have you here...

why did you go to Brockenhurst House
to find a fan that was never lost?

That's not quite how it was, ma'am.

You'd commented
on the Countess's hair,

so I went to see her maid.

I don't remember saying anything
about Lady Brockenhurst's hair.

You did, ma'am.
And I wanted to please you.

And the fan?

Well, that was a muddle
of my own making.

I couldn't find it,
so I assumed you'd left it behind.

- Why didn't you ask me?
- I didn't want to bother you

and I knew I was going there anyway,
to talk about the hair.

Where was the fan in the end?

I'd put it in the wrong drawer.

I was that tired
by the time you came home,

I wasn't thinking straight.

I'm sorry you have to stay up
so late when we go out.

Very well. But in future...

think before you write about
this family.

So, the sale that Pope disrupted
was with these two men?

They wanted the mill
that he ended up buying?

According to them,

he terrified the poor widow
into making a deal.

And he cheats the customs men.

I know this is hard for you.

I'll go and see him.

Please do.

But remember
what we know about him now.

I'll go and see him.

Is this Jane Croft
the one you used to write to?

I write to her now.
She was Miss Sophia's maid.

But she likes to hear news of us.

She was close to the
young mistress while she lived.

Why did you mention Mr Pope?

I just said that Mr Trenchard
had a new favourite.

Then Jane writes to
the Mistress and I'm to blame.

I suppose we should tell
Mr Bellasis. Why?

If it's to do with Mr Pope.

You're right, but no,
there's no hurry.

I'm collecting some books
from Hatchard's. I'll go then.

- No, I'll go.
- No, I'll go.

I'm the one to tell him
what the Mistress said,

since she said it to me.

And you're the one to keep the tip.

- When does this Jane Croft get here?
- Tomorrow.

When she arrives,
engage her in chat.

Search her things.

Discover what she knows
about Mr Pope.

Oh.

- You recognise the names, then?
- Oh, yes.

How would Oliver have come across
these men? Do you know?

I think so.

My foreman wrote to me about
a mystery visitor to the mill.

He was seen later talking
to a weaver called Joseph Riley.

Well, I presume there's no truth
in these allegations.

I will report back
that the letters are false.

- I'll tell Oliver it's all lies.
- Don't do that.

It was not quite as it appears.

But we should think about removing
your money from the business.

What? I won't take my money out.

Tell me the charges are lies,
my son is an idiot.

With your permission,
I'll manage it in stages

and add ten percent for the nuisance
I have put you to.

- I am not aware of any nuisance.
- Nevertheless...

I can see that it would not be right
for you to remain an investor.

It seems there is some truth
in Oliver's letters.

What?

- I'm afraid so.
- But he'd never do anything wrong.

Business is a battlefield, my dear.

Most successful men have done
one or two things they regret.

So, you believe he is at fault?

I wish he'd felt he could deny it.

- What will you do?
- I'm not sure.

We should face the fact
that the truth may not be...

quite as we would have it.

Good afternoon, Mr Sanderson.
How may I help you?

Well, I was rather hoping
to speak to your husband, Mrs Pope.

Oh.

Then I'm afraid
you've had a wasted journey.

The Reverend Mr Pope has been dead
a year this coming Tuesday.

In fact,
you were lucky to find me here.

I must be out soon
to make way for the next incumbent.

- Oh, well that's very hard.
- Oh, no.

He gave me 12 months to go
and that was generous.

Besides, my son is carrying me
up to London to live with him,

so I shall have a whole new chapter,

which is a privilege
at my time of life.

Was it something I could help with?

Well, in a way, it is of your son
that I wish to speak.

You know my son, Mr Sanderson?

Well, I've seen his offices
in the City.

Hmm, you have the advantage of me.

- Yes, he's doing very well.
- And in the cotton trade, too.

It's so far from anything
his father had expected.

- But he was so proud of Charles's achievements.
- Hmm.

Do you have any children
of your own, Mrs Pope?

Oh, forgive me, I should explain.
I am a friend of James Trenchard.

- That's really how I know Charles.
- Oh, I see.

It's a wonderful thing

that Trenchard has taken
such responsibility for the boy.

He's been, well,
he's been so generous.

- Oh, very generous, always.
- Yes.

Was he the only one
watching over young Charles,

or was someone else involved?
Er, well, a noble lady perhaps?

What exactly is it
that you want from me, sir?

I was just curious to meet you,
after all James had said.

If that is so, why did you
not know that my husband had died?

I do not think
you know Charles at all.

- Mrs Pope...
- And now I think of it,

I doubt Mr Trenchard
has ever spoken of us to you.

I shall, however, report to him
you called on me today.

I am so sorry to have upset you,
Mrs Pope...

Would you please go, sir?

- Have you finished?
- Yes.

Good. Then I'll summarise.

I should hate there to be
any confusion between us.

Please do.

You are asking me
to give you £1,000.

- Fifteen hundred - guineas.
- It seems to be growing.

Yes, I was forgetting the interest
on the debt.

Oh, well, we mustn't do that.

And in return, you'll keep silent
about my friendship with Mr Pope?

Hmm.

The honour of the family
is important to me.

Yes, it must be.

- When can you give me the money?
- Let me see. How about...

...never.

- Don't be foolish, Caroline.
- No, you are the fool.

If I choose to tell your brother,
we could meet a lawyer tomorrow

and lock up the estate
as tight as a drum.

- But it's all entailed.
- Oh, is it?

So, you don't care
if we reveal what we know?

Whatever you may think you know,
I promise you,

that if you decide
to spread some stupid story,

you're the one
who'll look a laughing stock.

Then why will you not reveal
the truth about your Mr Pope?

Because I do not choose to.

Now, get out of my house
before I have you thrown out.

- I saw your engagement in the paper.
- My dear, you're not a child.

You must have known
I'd get married some day.

If only to produce an heir.

- You're not very tender-hearted.
- No. I'm not.

Now what else do you know
about Mr Pope?

Only this. If you think Pope
is Trenchard's bastard son,

why was the Countess of Brockenhurst
so taken with him?

Hmm.

How old would she have been
when Charles was born?

- 41?
- Now don't be ridiculous.

Well, it would explain everything.
Including the secrecy.

She is the daughter of a duke
and the sister of a duchess.

26 years ago, he was a dumpy man

with a working-class background
and the face of a butcher.

With his looks, to get her into bed,
he'd have to be the Tsar of Russia.

Well, it might be unlikely.

Doesn't mean it's not true.
Now hurry up, I'm going to be late.

- Where were you yesterday?
- Hmm?

I thought I might see you
at the meeting in Gray's Inn Road.

What meeting? What's "hogget"?

Older than lamb,
younger than mutton.

We were discussing
the new development.

- Didn't they tell you?
- They might have done.

Erm, shall we get
something to drink?

The, er, the Chablis to start,
please. The '36.

Yes.

Did you let Mr Pope down lightly?

What do you mean?

Don't say you've betrayed
your own standards, Father. How sad.

I always thought you preferred
not to do business with thieves.

It's true I have not yet
removed my money from his company.

What about the letters I gave you?

You said you'd charged Pope with
them and he didn't deny a thing.

I travel in the morning
to Manchester.

I intend to meet
with your Messrs Astley and Brent.

Are you implying
that it was all lies?

- Does that make me a liar, too?
- No, I'm not saying you were lying.

But I just want
to find out the truth.

- Why didn't Pope deny the charges?
- Keep your voice down.

- Must I ask you again?!
- Oliver, my boy,

please do not let Charles Pope
come between us.

He has come between us,
hasn't he?

He's stood between us for some time.

Good day, Father!

I wish you well of Mr Pope!
Let him comfort you,

for you have no son in me!

To hell with the lot of you!

Why... why did your son
go to Manchester in the first place?

I'm afraid it was to find something
to Charles's discredit.

I assume he was disappointed.

Not exactly.

He met two men who accused Charles
of obtaining the mill

in an underhand way
and of cheating the Excise men.

I don't believe a word of it.

Unfortunately...
Charles refuses to deny the charges.

So, what happens next?

Mr Trenchard
is leaving for Manchester tomorrow.

He has the name of a mill hand,

who should bring them
to the accusers.

All this is because your son
hates his own nephew?

Well, he doesn't know the truth.

In other words,
the deceit is getting out of hand

and threatening
the unity of your family.

Which is exactly why
I've asked you here today.

I don't understand.

It's time to acknowledge him.

Does Maria Grey
know about this latest development?

I'm afraid so.

We saw her at church this morning
and she got it out of us.

She knows James will soon
be on his way to investigate.

Was her mother with her?

She was and heard it all.

Then she will use it to harass Maria

in an effort to force her up
the aisle with my worthless nephew.

All this can be resolved

if you would only allow us
to give Charles a name

and a position in this family.

My dear, please think.

There is a good life
waiting for Charles

if you'd only allow us
to give it to him,

illegitimate or not.

But...

surely we must wait
for James to go north?

If Charles is at fault...

It'll make it even imperative
to shore up his place in society

as quickly as we can.

Nevertheless...

I insist we wait
for James to make the journey.

Well, send me word when he returns.

- Will there be an announcement?
- Certainly not.

I shall privately acknowledge
that Charles is Edmund's son...

...and the rest will follow.

What about Sophia?

What will you say
when he asks about his mother?

Might it be better not to tell him?

You mean... to wipe her out of
the story altogether?

And with her, us?

I'm only thinking of her son.

He can have a rich life
and a good marriage

and the best society.

Of course, you'll tell me that none
of these things mattered to her...

No. No, they were important to her.

And she would have appreciated
what you want to do for Charles.

That's kind of you.

- We are agreed, then?
- I must talk to James first.

Will you send me word
when you have seen the men?

Of course.

And if Charles is guilty?

He's still our grandson.

We must help him the best we can.

I have news, too.

Happier news, I hope.

Hard to say.

I was summoned by Lady Brockenhurst
this morning

- after you left for the club.
- What did she want?

She says
that society will accept Charles

as part of the Brockenhurst family,
if...

...we will allow it.

And I suppose she'll convince him
to marry Maria Grey.

He won't take much convincing.
He loves her already.

And so do I...

...if it comes to that.

But she will take him
further out of our reach.

Then he is gone from us.

If he's acknowledged as a Bellasis,
we must fade into the background.

We owe it to Sophia
to protect her name.

If we love our daughter...

...we must give up our grandson.

- Will you still make the journey?
- Oh, yes.

We, we must learn what happened.

After that...

...we will wish him well...

...and go on our own way.

I swear you look younger
than when I last saw you.

No, I don't.

Mrs Trenchard
won't be back for a while,

but we've prepared a room.

What's this
about you're going to America?

My brother went years ago
and he's prospered.

Now he's built a house for himself
in New York

on a street they call Fifth Avenue.

He wants me to come over
and run it for him.

- As a servant?
- As his sister, he never married.

I hope you can manage the climate.

I'm told the extremes
of heat and cold

can be very trying to the spirit.

When do you sail?

I leave for Liverpool tomorrow
and I'll board the ship on Friday.

- What will you say to Mrs Trenchard?
- Oh, something and nothing.

You got me into trouble

by telling her
I'd written about Mr Pope.

- Did I?
- Hmm.

- I'm ever so sorry.
- So, you owe me an explanation.

When I was packing, I found
some letters of Miss Sophia's.

I dare say the Mistress
will throw them into the grate

the moment I've gone,
but I couldn't destroy them myself.

It's a long way to come for that.

I had to change trains in London,
anyway.

Besides, I've not been in years.

I've read of the Master's building
a new city of the rich,

south of the park,
and I wanted to see it for myself.

I won't be back this way,
if you know what I mean.

I should go now
before the Mistress gets home.

Have a good walk
and stretch your legs.

I'll write down some of the names
of the main streets and squares

- that you should visit.
- What shall I do with my bag?

Oh, leave it here. I'll have the
hall boy take it up to your room.

What will he give us for them?

We can't steal these.

She'd know as soon as the Mistress
asks to see them.

We must make copies now,
at once, before they get back.

Very well.

- We must destroy all the documents.
- Sir?

Where are the originals?

In the case,
where Miss Croft left them.

- It'll be in her room by now.
- Fetch them.

I can't, sir.
She'd know who took 'em!

And then what?
That's why we made the copies.

Fetch them at once!

I will give you £1,000 to compensate
you if you should lose your place.

GO!

I found some papers
that I thought you should have.

I suppose I'd call it
a marriage certificate,

if it weren't a lie.

It's signed by the man
who pretended to be a clergyman.

He names himself Bouverie.

Then there's a letter from him

telling how the young couple
came to marry in Brussels.

She gave them to me that night,
when she got home from the ball

and told me to burn them,
but I never did.

I didn't feel
they were mine to destroy.

- That's for you to decide, not me.
- Then you know everything?

Miss Sophia used to write to me,
ma'am, until the end.

She wrote that the baby would be
taken in by a Mr and Mrs Pope.

When Miss Ellis
wrote about a Mr Charles Pope,

it brought it all back.

I knew he must be the son
of Miss Sophia and Lord Bellasis.

- How well did we do?
- Is Jane Croft back?

She's been back for 20 minutes.

She was only a quarter of an hour
ahead of the Mistress.

The Mistress is back, too?

She is. They're in
the drawing room together. Why?

Mr Bellasis wants the originals.

You do not surprise me.

I made the copies.
I know what's in them.

I believe Mr Bellasis
has a rival to the family fortune.

Would you like to know
how much he offered me?

It was a sum that neither
you nor I will ever see again,

not on this earth.

I'm sorry for that.
But not for the fall of Mr Bellasis.

'What are the others?'

Letters from Miss Sophia,

when you were up north
waiting for the baby.

I didn't want
to risk my dropping dead

and a stranger reading them.

I kept one to remember her by,

but there's nothing in it
that anyone might not see.

Charles Pope
is Aunt Caroline's grandson,

but in the letters,
the girl calls the marriage a sham.

- Find out more about this Parson.
- Hmm.

Who was this Richard Bouverie?

I hope that's not a novel.

Poetry. Shelley's Adonais.
An Elegy on the Death of John Keats.

How impressive.
Now, I have some good news.

Louisa Portal's written to ask you
to Northumberland.

I don't want to leave London, Mama.
Not at the moment.

My dear, won't you allow me
to judge what is best?

Just this once?

I know you have been disappointed.

You don't know anything.

I know your Mr Pope
has feet of clay.

You heard yourself he has been
up to some mischief in the north.

- So, it is time to be sensible.
- What do you want of me, Mama?

I want you to let yourself be happy.

And I want you to allow me
to get it all ready.

- Get what ready?
- Why, your marriage.

And have you settled on a date?

Mrs Bellasis and I have decided
on a Wednesday in early December.

That way, you can spend the autumn
in the north

and come back relaxed
and ready for a new adventure.

And John... is to be
my new adventure?

Marriage for a well brought-up
young girl is always an adventure.

The boy told me Mr Trenchard
was waiting for me out here,

- but you're not Mr Trenchard.
- Well, that's where you're wrong.

I've met him. He was here
not long since and you are not him.

I'm his father.

And I have a task for you.

Go on.

When he was here, you introduced
my son to a Mr Astley and Mr Brent.

- I might have done.
- You did.

And they wrote two letters
for me to read.

He never said it was his father
investing in Mr Pope.

I was interested
by what they had to say

and I would like to meet them,
to verify certain details.

Meet me here tomorrow evening
I'll take you to 'em.

- When was this delivered?
- Just now, sir.

- The man said it was urgent.
- And so it is, Brodsworth!

Hatchard's in Piccadilly
and as quickly as you can.

Yes, sir.

Excuse me,
where can I find books about India?

Travel and Empire, sir.

I thought you'd never come.

I only got your message
at a quarter past three.

I've been running ever since.

He must have stopped on the way,
the wicked man. You have to help me.

- Of course I will.
- Mama wants to send me north,

- while she plans my marriage to John.
- Don't worry. I'm here now.

She says the latest news
of your double-dealing

has proved you unworthy of me.

- It's not true, is it?
- Do you believe it is true?

You could never be dishonourable.
Now that you're here, I know it.

But you doubted.

So did St Thomas. I am human,
after all.

Not to me.

What was the truth behind it?

I couldn't bear to cause a quarrel
between my kind benefactor,

Mr Trenchard, and his only son.

I knew it would be
something of the sort.

Let's run away together.

- We can't. You must know that.
- Why not?

Because I cannot be responsible
for your ruin.

Still less so
with this cloud hanging over me.

How could I do that if I loved you?

- IF you loved me?
- Because I love you.

Even this meeting
is asking for trouble.

- How did you get rid of your maid?
- I shook her off.

I'm getting rather good at it.

We should go. I've had an idea.

- Is it a good one?
- I certainly hope so.

Mr Pope and Lady Maria Grey.

- Where is she?
- Here.

We're very sorry
to force our way into your party,

but we need your advice.

And it might not be advice
you're willing to give.

You may feel
you have to support the other side.

Are we to take sides now? Heavens.

Come to my boudoir, my dear.
Mr Pope, you can stay here,

but I must warn you
that Lady Templemore is over there.

Consider me warned.

- Mr Pope.
- Lady Templemore. Good afternoon.

I might have known
you'd be involved.

- Involved in what?
- I saw you come in together,

- so don't lie to me.
- I won't.

I found her in Hatchard's.
She was distressed,

and so I brought her here.

- Maria and I...
- Lady Maria.

- Lady Maria and I...
- Mr Pope,

there is no "Lady Maria and I".
It is an absurd concept.

My daughter is a jewel,
as far above you as the stars.

For your own sake
as much as for hers, forget her.

If you have
a shred of honour in you.

The plan is that I will return
from Northumberland

and a day, or two later,
I will be married.

Maria, I have something to tell you,

that I would rather keep secret
from Charles.

It will not be for long.

He will know the whole truth
in the end, I promise.

Very well,
if he will know it eventually.

I am telling you now,
because it will alter your position.

It's possible
your mama may come round.

Until then, you will stay here
in this house with me.

We will send for your belongings.

Mama will not be brought round.

I'd like to think that she could,
but she won't.

If we are to be together,

we must go away
and make our own life.

- My situation is hopeless.
- Maria, sit down and listen.

Charles Pope is my grandson.

Mine and Lord Brockenhurst's.

What?

A-ha-ha! Can I offer you anything?

Is it too early for Madeira?

Never too early for Madeira.
Roger, two glasses of Madeira.

- Very good, sir.
- Please.

I saw the notice of your engagement
in The Times. Congratulations.

- Yes, I'm very lucky.
- Well, you don't sound it.

Well, I've a lot on my mind.

So, tell me,
what have you got for me?

I've done a little digging into
this Richard Bouverie as you asked.

And?

He was in fact
the Honourable Richard Bouverie,

the younger son of Lord Tidworth

and he was a captain
in the 52nd Light Infantry,

with your cousin, Lord Bellasis.
They died together at Waterloo.

Captain Bouverie
retired from the army in 1802,

after the Treaty of Amiens
was signed with Napoleon.

He then went on to take holy orders.

But you said he fought at Waterloo.

Well, now, this is the thing.

It seems he decided
to re-join his regiment

after Napoleon escaped from Elba
in February 1815.

Yes, but was that allowed
for a member of the Church?

All I can say is that,
in this case, it was.

Maybe strings were pulled
by his father. Anyway,

he was readmitted to the army.
He must have been a brave chap.

But could he perform a marriage,
once he was an officer again?

Oh, yes. He was a clergyman
before the fighting started

and he was a clergyman when he died.

So, you mean the wedding
in Brussels, before the battle,

was, erm...

- was valid?
- Absolutely!

So, there's nothing to worry about.

Whomever he married
were definitely husband and wife.

What was the story
behind the question?

Oh, it was just
a relation of mine. Erm...

his mother died in childbirth

and his father was killed
in the fighting, so he was, er...

...well, he was nervous
about his status.

Well, tell him there's nothing
to worry about.

He's as legal and legitimate as
the Queen's own little daughter...

...and no one can take that from him.