All language subtitles for Berkeley Square 07 BBC 1998

* Subtitles custom made by
Jos Carrera for his beautiful bride *

* @JosC on Gab.Com *

It's all so complicated.
You wonder why I keep getting lost.

Oh, you'll get used to it.

Now, I'm must go and check that
they finished Nanny Barlow's rooms.

Seems like alot of trouble
just for a nanny.

Oh, never mind just the nanny, my girl.

Nanny Barlow isn't just a nanny.

Nanny Barlow is the Duke of Wilton's nanny.

No more than 20 minutes, mind.

Sorry to interrupt, George.

I think that's everything, Briggs.
Sir.

It's 9 o'clock and the London
train arrives at 9:15.

Of course, of course.

It is a pity that Hugh isn't
here to start the thing off.

Yes.

Poor form, really.

Well, I think we can both agree
that he was no stranger to poor form.

Really, Constance, sometimes your
Yankee cynicism is a little wearing.

Let's not start the party
off with a quarrel.

Our guests will be arriving soon.

Should we go?

Not the green trunk, you silly man.

Do you suppose any of the other
house guests were on that train?

See that woman there?

She is the Duke of Wilton's old nanny.

That must be his boy.

He looks like he'll be a
good playmate for you, Tom.

And be careful with that.

If there are any breakages,
I should be holding you responsible.

Tom, fail to make a show
of yourself, alright?

Thank you, Polly.
They're perfect.

You may go.

It's beautiful, Miss Isabel.

I don't know what to say.

Aunt.
Are you feeling any better?

I'm sorry, my dear, I'm retiring to bed.

I'm afraid it means I'm unlikely to accompany
you to the Wakely's lunch party tomorrow.

Of course. You go lie down and I'll
get Polly to bring you some tea.

It really is too bad.

A lunch invitation, no chaperone and it's
nearly the end of the season.

Tell me, what do you
think of Captain Mason?

Handsome.

You think so?

Charming.

Yes.

And some say he's been seen
with Mrs. St. John

in circumstances that
aren't perfectly proper.

Hannah, I would have thought
servants gossip beneath you.

What kind of circumstances?

In what way, not proper?

I brought young Flory Smith, miss.

Good.
Send her in, would you?

How very timely.

Nanny Randall.

This is Flory Smith, your new nursery maid.

Nursery maid?

We don't need a new nursery
maid, do we, Nanny?

Oh, Bertie, but I think you do.

Sometimes Nanny is so preoccupied
with you and the baby

that conversation becomes
almost impossible.

Come in, Flory.

This is Nanny Randall.

Now, you must do absolutely
everything she tells you. Understood?

Morning, mum.

And what about this trunk?

No, that's got all of Tom's things in it.

Well, I wish you could get
me afternoon off, Maddy.

Meet my mum and dad.

There's so many things I could show you.

Afternoon off?
You're joking.

I should have asked the footman
to take it straight into his room.

Oh well, we could carry it together.

Lydia?

There's a grand pond and the
other side of the barn

Really quiet.

You can have a swim
and no one will see you.

And there's the apple orchards.

A-ha...

And a wood where we get more conkers
than anywhere else in the country.

Oh!

Lydia.

What on earth are you doing?

Oh, sorry.
We was just carrying it and...

Well, be quick about it.
Nanny Barlow is coming up the stairs.

Nanny Barlow.
Welcome to Causton Hall once again.

Nanny Collins.

Are those children wearing
their outdoor shoes?

In the day nursery while
wearing outdoor shoes?

Do come this way, Nanny Barlow.

I've got them to light a fire in your room.

Nanny Wickam.
Nanny Weston.

It's good to get out of London.

Isn't it?

I haven't seen him in years,
let alone the past few weeks.

Well, if you do see him...

I'll run him round to Bow's Street myself.

He nicked my purse when he left.

You're not the only ones
want to get their hands on Ned.

Don't worry, we'll find him eventually.

Watch it, girl.

Pringle?

You finish dusting?

Get downstairs and start boiling water.

I want the half towels in
the night nursery scrubbed.

Yes, Mrs. McClusky.

While the cat's away, eh?

That particular mouse needs no
encouragement to play, least of all from you.

Oh, come on, mum.

It's one of the few times we can just...
relax.

Relax?

I've just had the police around again.

What'd you say?

Exactly what I said last time.

But this can't go on forever.

I've got the police on the back doorstep,

and that girls' away in the country
knowing everything about you.

She don't know everything.

Enough to go run into the
law if she has a mind.

She won't.

I can't believe you went and told her, Ned.

Why'd you keep going on about her?

She's not here.

She's hundreds of miles away in some...

Swank country-ass worrying about whether
the kids had got clean hankies.

She's not thinking about you

or me or anything got to do with
what's going on here.

She's not even...
oh forget it.

I noticed the baby Ivo gnaws at his fist
when he's hungry, Nanny Collins.

I find tying the hands to the sides of the
chair soon stops that sort of thing.

He's kicking me!

Tom, feet still.

It's not me, it's him.

No, it's not.

Lord Louie does not kick

and tattletales generally discover that
God finds ways to punish them.

Tattletale

Nanny.

Lord Louis,

I think it would be better if you kept
your feet and your teasing to yourself.

Nanny Wickham

I thank you to keep your
nose out, young lady.

I don't think Nanny Wickam
meant anything by it.

Now, shall we all have a tea cake?

Lord Louis is not permitted tea cakes.

Not in the nursery, at any rate.

Only in the drawing room at
the invitation of Lady Wilton.

Come along, Louie.
Time for your bath.

Thank you for delightful
tea, Nanny Collins.

You see, the boy bears no grudge.

Nobility will out, I always say.

The matter is decided.

Help is needed in the nursery
and I have provided it.

Now, which dress do you think?

Oh, this one.
It has the prettiest neckline.

Yes, but Aunt Effie ordered it made me
without knowing anything about my size.

I'll never really fit it.

You'd look glorious in it.

It's beautiful.

It goes absolutely with your eyes.

Its your day off tomorrow, isn't it?

Were you planning anything?

Just to visit a friend?

Another nanny?

No, no, no.
Just someone in Limehouse.

Someone?
Don't tell me you have an admirer?

No, nothing like that.
Just a friend.

This one I think.
It makes my waist look smaller.

And this friend, you've
made definite arrangements?

Oh, I've sent a note saying I'm coming,
if I get the day off.

Why?

No reason.

Anabel, I'm planning a game of
croquet, if the weather holds.

Oh dear. I'm not sure it isn't
a little late for croquet.

Rather too windy at this time of year,
perhaps, but certainly

if you are organizing it,
I shall endeavor to play.

Mrs. St. John, shall I put you down?

Game birds are like foreigners.

Best on their own turf.

I should be delighted.

Lady Wilton has agreed and
Mrs. Russbridge and Mrs. Forshaw.

Are you expecting any late arrivals?

I believe Hugh is expected
at some point or another.

Ground trap, young Hugh.

Always allows himself a gathering.

Yes, I'm always saying that if,

if Louie turns out to be half the young
man Hugh has become, I shall be delighted.

Indeed.

And your son, Mrs. St. John, Tom.

A fine, young little chap.
How old is he?

Almost eight.

I was saying that Louie bagged some
quite impressive numbers last season.

Quite a keen little shot.

Is he coming tomorrow, your boy?

Oh, he most definitely.
He's looking forward to it immensely.

It'd be his first shoot.

Good heavens, first shoot?
And nearly eight?

And now, I think we should leave the men
to their boring talk of guns and

races of birds.

Shall we?

Oh, by all means, Fowler.
And tell them the ladies are retiring now.

A late arrival.

Ladies.

Do you fancy a small wager
on tomorrow's outcome?

George here will bag at least
100 more than anyone else.

Pay no attention, St. John.

He knows perfectly well that there'll be
some far finer shots amongst us tomorrow.

Good evening, father.

Hugh.

Uncle.

Sorry I'm late.

Had business in town.

I can see that. Business involved
another man's fist, did it?

Oh, yes.
But you should see the other chap.

Bit of a misunderstanding over a member
of the fairer sex. Isn't that right, Hugh?

You could say that.

Still, as long as...what is it they say?

To the victor the spoils,
as long as you were the victor, Hugh.

Oh, absolutely, Uncle Percy.
Absolutely.

I can't wait till Sunday.

See my mum and dad.

Nanny Weston.

Don't speak with your mouth full
or I shall have to tell Lord Winston.

I'm telling you, one more word and
that stuck up old prune face...

Did you see Hannah before we left London?

Why?

Well, haven't seen her for ages.

Wondered if she got herself a young man.

Of course, she hasn't.

There's no need to sound
so cross about it.

There's nothing wrong with being in love.

There is if you're a nanny.
You could lose your position.

I don't expect that'd stop many people.

What for then, then?

Nanny Wickam? How absolutely
right of you to be so totally correct.

Here.
Stick one of these in your mouth.

Might sweeten you up a bit.

You think I'm a sour puss?

No, not a sour puss.

Just sometimes a little bit too set
on the straight and narrow.

Me?

Yes, miss, you.

Here, have two strawberries.

Might make all the difference.
And three.

Where are you going?
Out.

Constance.
Hugh.

Not joining us today?

No, I don't shoot.

I thought all American women could
outshoot any Englishman.

All that practice with the Redskins.

Right. Keep us under (unknown)
the first drive so we can get started.

Aw, there you are.

Really, Tom. Is it too much to ask
that arrive properly dressed?

Hat, boy, hat.

I left it upstairs.
Should I go fetch it?

No time.

Pretty generous with that
altogether, ay St. John?

Not to worry.

Hear they, young Tom?

Beaters coming through the wood.

Best sound in the world.

Remember, Tom.
Listen to your loader.

He can often see the
birds before you can.

Oh, Miss Isabel.
You know what they say about fine feathers.

They also say clothes maketh the man

or in this case, woman.

Well, it takes more than a tea gown
to make someone a lady.

Not if they're sharp and
clever like you, Hannah.

Some people are just naturally ladies

There.

Some work with the curling irons,
some good jewelry,

and you could take tea
at the Ritz without question .

It's just as well.
I could never afford tea at the Ritz, then.

Ah, but a free lunch...

Miss Hannah Randall.
No.

Miss Honoria Randall of the County
Wickner Randall's,

intimate friend of Miss Isabel Hutchinson,

attended a luncheon given
recently at 46 Grosvenor Square.

No.

Why not?
It'd be such fun.

Miss Isabel?

And it would help me enormously.

You know how nervous I am about going.

But I couldn't.

But you have to.

You can't let me down now.

I'm expected at Limehouse.

Is that the only obstacle?

You can go and see your
friend another day.

Mrs. B.
This come for you.

It's from the Town Hall.

We've all got one.

No more baby things on the line then?

It's gone, has it?

What about the girl?

Gone away, yes.

She got a job where they
let her take the baby?

Hard to come by, understanding employers.

She was lucky.

She got a job at
Berkeley Square.

It's only my washing now.

Have to go.

Hey, what about your letter?

It's about the drains.

Suit yourself.

And this is Mr. Sydney Chambers.
Very good friend of the family.

Mr. Chambers is sure to want to ask you where
you've been hiding all season, Miss Randall.

And this gentleman I believe
you have met already.

Miss Hutchensen.
Looking delightful as ever.

Captain Mason, allow me to introduce
you to my best and dearest friend,

Miss Nora Randall of the
County Wickler Randall's.

Honoria is generally very shy,
Captain Mason,

but I persuaded her to make a public
appearance, just this once.

I'm sure her presence at lunch will
liven proceedings, don't you agree?

Miss Randall, I'm enchanted to meet you.

Any friend of Miss Hutchinson will find
favor with me.

Shall we go in?

Miss Randall?

I'd be honored

Police have been all over Limehouse
asking questions but no one said anything.

So much for friends.

Ned, it was a bare knuckle fight.
The bet was illegal.

No one wants to go to prison.

What, and I do?

Am I interrupting something?
Fancy some company?

Well, we was having a private conversation

but we finished the business,
I think, didn't we Ned?

Yeah, I ought to be going.

My mate Nells up at the counter.

Waiting for you to buy her a drink.

And while you're up there, I'll have a Gin,
and a Stout for Ned, was it?

I'm Violet.

Violet, I'm a busy man.

Not so busy you can't stop
and have one drink.

Unless of course there's someone else.

Nah, there's no one.

Good.
Dan, he'll have a pint.

A delightful lunch, Lady Wakley.

Thank you, Mr. Chambers.

And delightful company.

I think Chambers is paying you a
compliment, Miss Randall.

A compliment most sincerely meant.

Am I to understand that Mr. Chambers'
compliment to me

is equal to the one he's
paying Lady Wakley's cook?

I don't know if I should be
flattered or insulted.

I assure you, Miss Randall,

I rate you far superior, even to
Lady Wakley's cook superb syllabub.

Well, in that case, I shall attempt to
accept your compliment sweetly

although I don't think I can
measure up to my rival.

Your little subterfuge has
been breathtakingly successful.

Nanny's quiet the taste of the day.

Honoria, I was just telling Captain Mason
how much we'd enjoyed (unknown) this year.

You were there?

Do you live around here?

Thought you said you had to get back?

Depends if I said what I stayed for.

I thought Lady Wakley
monopolized Captain Mason after lunch.

And I hated her (unknown).

Talking of which, perhaps you'd better
give me the amber now, just in case.

And you mustn't worry about what happened.

It was just a silly accident.

At least it's Sunday tomorrow.

What's so good about Sunday?

Can't go shooting on Sundays.

I wish Ned was here.

He's a footman, Tom.

He has to stay in London.

You sure you gotta get back?

You could always stay here,
make a night of it.

Got a landlord who looks the other way.

No, no, I better get back.

Right then.

We'll just have to make haste
slowly, as they say.

No, I mean now.

I gotta get back now.

Changed your tune.

I'm sorry.

Thanks very much.

It's not you.
I thought you wanted...

Just go, ay.

Good heavens. What on earth is that?

Marjorie, go upstairs and find out
what all that screaming is about, will you?

So, you're not fond of shooting parties,
Lady Lamson-Scribener?

The company may be congenial,
but the actual shoot...

I would rather follow more gentle pursuits.

Even if it is a little late for croaky.

and perhaps rather too windy
for this time of year.

That's my little gallery of visitors,

trophies you might call them.

Herald Bond, the poet.
You know him?

Rarely takes a bath.

That's Lord Hartington.

Mind you, he didn't come for the shooting.

He did a lot of mooning
about down by the lake.

Think he was in love.

That's Captain Mason.

Of course, you know him.

A little.

Marjorie?

A bit of an upset.

One of the children playing tricks
on Master St. John.

Nanny Wickham says to tell
you she's sorting it out.

Thank you, Marjorie.

Where's Lydia?

I told you, she'd be coming
along with the family, won't she.

Can she sit with us?

She'll have to sit with the
people from the hall.

Lydia.

Don't she look well trimmed out?

Oh Suzanna.

Mind Lydia's dress now.
Your boots are all muddy.

Oh, this skirt can stand
a little bit of dirt, mum.

Here you are, dad.

I bought you some tobacco from London.

(unknown)

And sweets for the little ones.

We must have big cake tins
up at the house.

It's alright, mother. We'll eat Lydia's
today and have yours in a week.

Oh, no, mum. Well, you didn't
make this as a present.

I'd much rather have some
of your fruit cake.

I used to dream about your fruit cake
when I was in London.

Don't be daft.

This would be a proper cake.

Look! It's even got cherries.

We can all have a great big
slice, can't we children?

Cake from the big house.

There you are.

Anabel was looking for you.

Well, shouldn't you be out
there keeping her amused?

I'm afraid my ideas of amusement don't
always correspond to your sisters', George.

Is there something you wanted?

St. John just told me that he and his wife
were married nine years ago today.

Should we acknowledged this at dinner,
do you think?

A toast, perhaps?

No, perhaps not.

Since he nearly told me privately.

You're asking me if their marriage
is cause for celebration?

I'm sorry to interrupt
your literary pursuits.

I'd hardly call 10 minutes in the
library on my own the pursuit of literature.

And I think you answered
your own question, George.

No announcement.

Yes, that's what you thought.

I'm not entirely sure that Hugh's the first
person I would consult for etiquette.

Come in.

I'm afraid it's borne for you, Constance.

To shoot all this masculine companies
and very dull women.

How very lively.

Making you bad-tempered.

Mr. Broomfield said to tell that
a gentleman's arrived, your Ladyship.

Thank you, Margorie.

Excuse me, George.

My dear.

Well, what an odd question.

A husband cannot ask his wife what jewels
she plans to wear for dinner?

Well, I have no choice.

I wore the garnets last night,
I'm saving the rubies for the fancy dress,

it will have to be the pearls.

Unlike Lady Lamson-Scribener
and the Duchess,

I do not have an unending supply
of heirlooms to choose from.

Why on earth do you ask?

No reason.

Well, why ask the question then?

Mrs. St. John.

St. John.

So I told him,

you can't that land lie
fallow for four years

and expect to do nothing to the top soil
before you plant...

Lydia don't want to hear all that, Joe.

No, mum, but I do.

You don't know what it was like being at
a posh house with no one to talk to.

A house full of servants and she's says
she's got no one to talk to.

Who does he have here except Janey
in the dairy and those awful Bates girls.

Where's Becky gone?

Washing the dishes.

Well, I'll go and help her then.

You'll do no such thing.

You're a visitor.

Dad, you were saying about the lower field.

Don't matter.

I hear you been making apple chutney.

Oh, good crop this year.

How many jars?

30

30?

I'll go and get you one to take back.

Best let me choose Joe.
I know which is best.

Mind if I smoke?

Lydia?

It's me, Mr. Fowler.

You going back to the house?

Hop in.

That's very kind of you Mr. Fowler.

Walk on.

I've just been to the station to collect a
vase for his Lordship.

Sent all the way from London on the train.

See that package?

It's worth hundreds.

However, a rut in the road and
we'll both be out of job.

Pleased to see you, were they, the family?

Yes.

It's difficult when you've moved away.

Changed in all sorts of ways and
they've just stayed the same.

It's difficult for everyone.

When I first moved away I used to write a
long letter home to my mother every month.

Was a chat, it was really,
about everything and nothing.

Meant things weren't so formal
when I went home to visit.

Not so much ground to cover

Well, then, that's all right
for them that can write.

Or we come to that.

I could help you with the letter,

and I expect there's someone in the village
who could read it to your parents.

You could help me...

with writing?

Trot on.

I'm sorry you missed the
Shiraz, Captain Mason.

At one point, we were acting a
small scene involving a sea captain.

Hardly the same thing as a
Guards officer, Aunt.

Absolutely not, Lady Wilson.

Sea captains are famously hairy,
usually old.

Tellers of salty tales
with language to match.

Well, I would certainly of disappointed in
the matter of the beard

but the salty tales...

there are stories circulating in the mess
that are certainly full of flavoring.

In which case, I'd be extremely grateful
if you keep them to yourself, Captain Mason.

Lady Lamson-Scribener,
I am a model of discretion.

I often wonder if the stories...

Where would we be without discretion,
Captain Mason?

The stories that appear in the mess
rooms of ships and army barracks

are the very same ones we used to tell each
other in school.

Only given a more robust flavoring
for all the paths.

I thought you weren't coming.

I got held up in London.

Victoria, my sweet, this really
isn't a good idea.

Harry, I know what you said in London.

I understand it's dangerous
but we can do this.

We can find a way...

It's more complicated.

I'm telling you, my darling,
it isn't complicated at all.

People do this all the time.

Do you think no one noticed at dinner?

The way you talk to me?
The way you were looking?

I don't care.

Victoria, I don't think you understand.

This has gone too far.
We must stop.

Victoria?

I know this weekend hasn't been exactly
your idea of a pleasant interlude.

and I know things have been
difficult lately

but I just wanted to say

I just wanted to say...

Good heavens. you alright?

I have a headache, Arnold.
It's very late.

I'll come straight to the point.

I just wanted to say that after
nine years of marriage

Nine years, Victoria

you are still the only woman
I could ever want.

And I hope you can accept this little
token of my love.

Open it.

Caspere's.

93 diamonds.

Because we were married in '93 and
I thought diamonds were best.

Here, let me help.

Beautiful.
Nice against your skin

Tom?
Tom, what's all this?

I'm scared, Nanny.

I don't want to go shooting.

Please don't make me go.

I'm sorry, Tom.
There's nothing to be done.

Your father insists.

Hey, you never know.
You may surprise yourself.

My old dad always says that courage comes
when you least expect it.

It will be frightfully humiliating if my
cousin bags more than me.

Not impossible, Hugh.
Mark my words.

And now there's even more competition.

I'm told Captain Mason is more than a
competent shot with a rifle.

and judging from a few burning glances
being fired across the dinner table last night

he's pretty competent at
more than just shooting.

Ah, there you are.

Understand what's required
of you, boy do you?

Speak up, Tom.

Cat got your tongue?

Hugh?

Right.
Positions, I think.

Come along.

There's a good aim that's required in
this game.

You don't have to say a word.

Well, get in line boy.

Father, I can't do this.

Get in line.
I would not be made a fool of, you hear me?

Stand by me, Tom.

Good man.

Right boy.
Here we go

Look along the barrel.

Never fire until the bird is full square
in view and be careful of this arm.

I've seen a boy break his shoulder
from the recoil.

Gun in the wrong position, you see.

Look at the way he's standing, brother.

How's he going to be able to swing
around when the birds around him?

Well observed, Louie.

Right, boy. Knees bent a little.

Feet slightly apart and
don't move that arm.

You'll be knocked over backwards.

Now, remember everything I've said.

Look on the barrel.
Don't put the left hand too far down.

Take aim.

I've given your load some
stronger cartridges.

Make the thing go with a real bang.

All right.

Father?

You will shoot or you'll get a thrashing,
you hear me?

Cowardy, cowardy custered.

Father.

Tom, shut up and shoot.

Cowardy, cowardy custered!

You idiot. You didn't even gun load.

Just shoot.

Man down!

What have you done?

Mrs. St. John.
Yes?

I'm afraid there's been an accident.
A shooting accident.

No.

Your husband has been wounded.

My husband?

I've summoned the doctor and the men are
carrying him in now.

I'm terribly sorry.
This is a dreadful accident.

Mrs. St. John

I think you should know the circumstances.

I'm afraid it was your son who shot
your husband.

Victoria.

Ah, the doctor.

You should be locked in your room for a
week on bread and water, young sir.

It's attempted murder.
No more, no less.

There's a word for it.
Nanny Barlow?

Patricide.
A son killing his father.

You can go to the gallows.

It was an accident.

Oh accident, she said.

The result of poor upbringing,
that's what I see.

Someone stinting in the
smacking department.

Not enough discipline...
Nanny Barlow.

From what I've seen of Nanny Wickham,
she is an excellent Nanny.

And discipline in the St. John nursery is
more than adequate.

Go along, young Tom. Off to bed.
Nanny will go with you.

Thank you, Nanny Wickham.

I think he's had quite enough for one day.

I am not accustomed to being contradicted
in front of children.

And I am not accustomed to visitors taking
charge in my nursery, Nanny Barlow.

Master Tom is not the only one
who needs reprimanding.

This jacket, look.
Bloodstains.

Just the place a young boy would
conceal a dead pheasant.

His idea of a little joke.

Good day, Nanny Barlow.

I'm sure you'll be wanting to have a
word with Lord Louie.

It's lovely, Bertie.

Can I show Flory?

Of course you can.

It's you in the dress you were wearing
when you went out with cousin Isabelle.

You don't have any pictures of
your baby brother, Master Bertie?

Only from before when he was a sickly baby.

I haven't done any pictures of him since
he was a new baby

Bertie, Flory he has to take the
tray down to the kitchen.

Why don't you go and find
a puzzle in the cupboard.

Fowler said you wanted to see me, Father.

Did you supply that boy with cartridges
this afternoon?

The St. John lad?
Yes, I did.

Gave his loader a handful.

Why?

The boy was in a blue funk.
Needed waking up. Bit of a jolt.

That's your explanation?

Surely you're not going to blame me
for what happened to his father?

Blame?
That's a fine word.

Constance.

You hand over dangerous lethal cartridges
to an 8 year old boy

and the reason you give us that
he needed waking up?

Come on, Constance.
It was just a joke.

It's not the kind of joke one expects
from a gentleman

Father, tell her she's overreacting.

You may go.

I have nothing to add.

I'll get you some warm milk.

I'm not sure you deserve it, mind.

I know.
I really am bad, aren't I?

Why did you do it, Tom.

I don't know.
It just happened.

I didn't mean to, Nanny.
It just happened.

That's what I thought.
it just happened.

It doesn't necessarily
make you bad, does it?

Sometimes bad things happen

and they're not really someone's
fault, are they?

That someone just happen
to be in the wrong place

at the wrong time.

Something wrong?
Shh

What are you doing?

Get off!

Come on, Ned.
Mrs. McClusky's fast asleep.

(unknown)

No Pringle.

I'll know, won't I.

I wouldn't be able to live with myself,
you silly little...

Ned?

Ivy, you back to your room now and
we'll forget this ever happened, alright?

But I don't want to forget.

Pringle, I said now.
Go.

Well now. If it isn't little nanny.

Good evening, sir.

Are you even going to ask me why I'm here?

(unknown)

Yes, my face.
Nasty. isn't it?

Aren't you going to ask me
how I did it, Lydia?

No, of course not.

You already know, don't you?

No, sir.

And an answer to the question
that you didn't care to ask.

I'm not just here for a
couple of days shooting.

I've decided to take more of a hand
in the running of the estate.

Something my father's been on at me
to do for a long time.

And do you know the first thing
I'm going to suggest to him?

Sir, I don't think you should be talking...

I'm going to suggest, in the
strongest possible terms, mind

that a certain tenant farmer called
Weston gets thrown off his farm

Why would you want to do that?

I'm tired of this conversation.

I'm off to bed.

I'll be talking to my father unless
a certain Nanny speak to him first.

Offers her resignation.
Makes herself scarce.

Sir

I've told you, I'm tired.

Suffice it to say, I know who
attacked me and why.

Sleep well.