Original subtitles

Did she?

Didn't she?

Who's to blame?

I was an orphan.

Ambrose took me in.

He was my cousin...

but I loved him like a father.

Yes! Another!

They said, "the boy needs a mother..."

but the only women allowed in the house were the dogs.

Good girl. Good girl.

I came back from school.

Here, give me that.

What had I learned?

I didn't like books.

I didn't like cities.

I didn't like clever talk.

I liked it...

here.

But Ambrose fell ill.

The doctors sent him off...

Go.

...for the sunshine.

How I missed him.

Every letter I shared

with my godfather and his daughter.

I've got a letter from Ambrose.

Just arrived.

Then, that summer, his letters mentioned...

Boots!

"My cousin, and so your cousin too,

Rachel, a widow, very good company,

who has kindly taken it upon herself

to show me all the glories of Florence.

She lives out here in the sunshine,

but is as English as you or I..."

She must be extremely charming

for Ambrose to have noticed her.

What do you mean?

Oh, I've never heard of him

admiring a woman before.

Oh, she's right. Your cousin never had much need for women.

Why should he?

He had me.

How old is she?

Doesn't say.

And by the autumn...

"Such wonderful news.

Rachel and I are to marry!

She's agreed.

Such happiness to be so blessed.

I'm certain the moment you set eyes on her,

you'll understand.

She is radiant, she is good,

and she is the kindest companion."

She'll have everything turned upside down in no time.

Shan't know where we bloody are from one minute to the next.

Have you thought about the future?

Hmm?

Well, a home of your own?

Why on Earth should I do that?

Well,

The position's changed somewhat, hasn't it?

When are you expecting them?

No doubt in his great happiness,

he'll have forgotten all about us.

Poor Philip. Are you being orphaned all over again?

Preposterous comment.

It's good that he's happy, isn't it?

Well, that's the whole point, surely.

- Point of what? - Getting married.

I'm sure there'll be a letter soon.

"I have written to you several times,

but she watches me like a hawk

and there is no one I can trust

to take my letters to the mail.

She is away from the house today.

That's why I am able to write this.

For weeks, I have been ill:

fevers, terrible headaches.

I am sick of the sight of the sun.

As for the doctors,

I don't trust any of them.

The new one, recommended by that snake Rainaldi,

is a cut-throat, I am sure."

Who's Rainaldi?

No clue.

May I see?

Was he drunk, do you think?

- Drunk? - When he wrote the letter.

Never.

Look.

"She has done for me at last.

Rachel, my torment.

For god's sake, come quickly."

Hello?

Good boy.

You must be Philip.

I've been expecting you.

How do you know who I am?

I am sure I'm not the first to notice

the remarkable resemblance to your cousin.

Please, come in. I'm nearly finished.

- Where is he? - Where is he?

Surely, my dear fellow, you know...

he's dead.

Where's the woman?

- The woman? - She...

The Rachel woman. Where is she?

- Gone. - Where?

I have no clue. It's the truth.

How did he die?

It was a tumor, in the head. Here.

The doctors are in no doubt. It affected his brain.

- How? - Oh.

Shouting.

Violence. Terrible distrust.

The doctors are all idiots, and I of course,

the worst idiot of all.

Things are thrown, glasses smashed.

His wife pushed up against the wall

and held by the throat.

She wants this place let. Even sold.

Your cousin Rachel, Mr. Ashley,

is a woman of very strong... impulse

and passion.

Very strong.

Do you understand?

Where are his things?

Hmm?

His clothes, his books...

The day after the funeral, she was gone.

Unbelievable bitch.

Hmm?

I said how much I was looking forward to seeing her.

My name is Rainaldi.

I am your cousin's lawyer and advisor,

and I hope friend.

Prego.

A copy of the certificate of death.

A copy has already been sent to you in England

and another one to the trustee of Ambrose's will,

your godfather, Signor Kendall.

- You know all about me. - Of course.

There are some remarkable things to see here.

Really?

Churches, paintings and so on.

- But, then again... - What?

Oh, you strike me as someone perhaps more interested

in beer and foxes than the Rinascimento.

And why not?

I believe nothing of what you've told me.

I believe had I been here,

my cousin would still be alive.

And I believe that whatever it cost him

in pain and suffering before he died,

I will return in full measure

upon the woman that caused it.

He was a good man, Master Philip.

- May he rest in peace. - Thank you, guy.

- God rest his soul. - Right.

Come on, Jericho, give me that damn thing.

You always did scythe like a girl.

More beef, Master Philip?

Master Philip?

You're the master now, Master Philip.

You're the master.

It's the same will I drew up 10 years ago.

No provision has been made for a wife.

- Are you sure? - Quite sure.

I've examined it carefully

and the accompanying letter from Signor Rainaldi.

There's no mention anywhere of any claim

on the part of Mrs. Ashley.

I'm amazed.

Why?

We know perfectly well she drove him to his death.

We know nothing of the sort.

If that's the way you're going to talk

about your cousin's widow,

then frankly, I don't want to listen.

You have been extremely fortunate.

The entire estate will fall to you on your next birthday,

as per Ambrose's wishes.

Surely you don't believe all this nonsense about the tumor?

Here is the death certificate

with an account of the post mortem.

And what possible motive could she have?

With nothing to gain from his death?

So, yes, why wouldn't I believe?

Ambrose wasn't my father...

but he was like a father.

In fact, better than most fathers.

We all miss him.

I miss him.

But you should know that the new Master Ashley

plans to carry on much the same as the old.

She's in England.

She's here.

I wouldn't worry.

She'll take one look at the place

and get straight back into her carriage.

Good.

Look at it. The dust.

She can dust it herself if it bothers her.

And the smell.

Has every dog in the county taken a shit in here?

Possibly.

Where are you going to put her?

- Ambrose's room? - No.

I shall take Ambrose's room.

She can have the blue room.

Really?

Is it watertight?

Should suit her perfectly.

What are you going to do with her?

Confront her.

Of course, she'll try and bluster her way out of it

- or faint... - Mmm. Swoon, theatrically.

Have hysterics... isn't that what one expects of Italians?

Well, she's only half Italian.

All that macaroni. She'll probably be too fat

to get up the stairs.

I want justice for Ambrose.

I think you're nervous.

Not at all.

- Would you like me to stay? - What do you mean?

I mean, to be here?

What time are you expecting her?

I think I can manage.

You really are nervous, aren't you?

I just want to be on my own for...

- I'm sorry. - No, no, no. Not at all.

- I quite understand. - No, I am sorry.

And thank you...

for everything...

for the flowers and offering to stay.

Of course.

Good luck.

And try not to throttle her before dinner.

Make sure she waits for her dinner.

Make sure she holds her hunger

until the master of the house is back.

- Clear? - Clear as day.

Good. Make sure of it.

- She's here. - Well? No luggage?

Master Ambrose's things have all been put in your old room.

Oh.

Oh.

- Where is she now? - In her room.

In her room. In her room.

Says she's tired and would you excuse her for dinner.

Where the devil are the dogs?

I think they followed her upstairs.

What was she like, for god's sake?

Couldn't say, sir.

Good god, man. Is she fat, thin?

Tall, short? Does she have a wooden leg?

A mustache?

Has she got a wart on her nose?

I don't know anything about that, sir.

The madam has sent word

that should you wish to pay your compliments,

when you have dined,

she would be pleased to receive you, sir.

Thank you, Seecombe.

That's it, Seecombe, thank you.

Come in.

Ambrose...

I am very sorry.

I didn't expect you to be quite so like your cousin.

Won't you sit down for a moment?

Would you like some tea?

Very well, if you wish.

Is this a smart thing to do?

Where you come from?

it's just a cup of tea.

I'm surprised they knew how to do this.

Oh, the... the butter's, erm, melting.

You've got... You'd better lick your fingers.

Smoke if you'd like.

Seecombe will think it very wrong.

He'll smell it in the morning.

Well, then, I'll open the window

before I go to bed.

The rain will come in and spoil the new carpet.

How pernickety you are.

I thought you lot worried about things like that.

- You lot? - Women.

Only when they have nothing else to worry about.

Nobody seems to have been in here

since someone called Great Aunt Phoebe...

Who fell in love with a curate who didn't love her back.

She went away to Tonbridge Wells

to mend her broken heart.

Did Ambrose never tell you the story?

No, no, he never did.

She took a chill that lasted 20 years

and then she fell in love again

at first sight with another curate.

Thank heavens this one loved her back.

Yes. Thank heavens.

She died on her wedding night.

Oh, god. Of what?

Of shock, I think.

I think you just made that up.

I did nothing of the sort. Ask Seecombe.

Perhaps tomorrow I could borrow a horse and have a look around.

Such an odd feeling, driving up to the house,

Seecombe standing by the door to welcome me.

I've done it so many times in my imagination.

The clock struck the hour as we drove up.

I even seemed to recognize the sound of the bell.

There...

- You're tired. - I'm not tired.

- You're half-asleep. - No, I'm not tired.

I'm really not.

Will you please stop being so polite

and get up and go to bed.

Of course. Of course.

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I, er...

- Sorry. I... - Good night!

Yes...

Peter Welch.

Peter Welch.

- Morning. - Morning.

That's Bawden's meadow.

Then Kemp's creek.

Er, Beef park.

Beacon Hill.

That's impossible.

And then in the distance

with the plow on it,

that's the West Hill and beyond it the East Hill.

What else do you think we talked about?

Clearly I have no idea.

All this was his passion.

So I made it my passion too.

Everyone will be gawping at you.

Then I shall just gawp back.

We're just here.

...The faculties of his mind

are put into busy exercise

in the steady direction of one great and engrossing interest.

His attention is recalled from the many revelries...

...into which he might

Otherwise have wandered.

And the powers of his body

are forced away from an indolence...

That was the easy bit.

I was afraid that might be the case.

Beautiful sermon.

And on that day, as twilight falls,

the plowmen of the village,

they draw their great plow from door to door

and they beg a free drink,

and this is a great big plow

drawn by a handsome brace of oxen.

- My goodness. - It's really...

It's most, most arresting.

- Beautiful. - Brava.

So very...

Yes.

Un angelo passa...

Say again.

An angel... passes.

Now, who will join me

in drinking this delicious port wine?

Oh, unless, of course,

the men wish to retire to the next room

while we smoke our pipes.

Thank you so much for such a wonderful day.

Louise, thank you so much for the flowers.

- The beautiful flowers! - You're very welcome!

Thank you! Thank you!

You had better hurry up and marry your Louise

before she gets snapped up by someone else.

She isn't my Louise.

Really? Her father seems to have other ideas.

Why does everyone always assume that Louise and I will many?

Lift your feet.

Sorry.

She finds you very beautiful.

Does she now?

As do the Pascoe girls.

How terribly flattering.

The vicar does not agree.

Oh, dear.

- But he finds you feminine. - Lift your feet.

"Extremely feminine" were his exact words.

I wonder in what way.

I suppose in a way that's different to Mrs. Pascoe.

Mmm. And how would you define it?

- Define what? - The difference.

Our femininity:

Mrs. Pascoe's and mine.

God knows.

All I know is... I like looking at you...

and I don't like looking at Mrs. Pascoe.

All this nonsense about staying at Pelyn.

What's wrong with staying here?

I'll stay until Seecombe gets fed up with me.

Seecombe? See...

Seecombe has nothing to do with it.

Or I run out of money.

And am forced to give Italian lessons to the bored wives of the gentry.

No, no, no.

Only spinsters teach. Everybody knows that.

Oh!

And then only when no one will support them.

- And what about widows? - Widows?

Oh, well, widows remarry as fast as they can.

And if they can't do that, they just...

pawn their wedding rings.

Well...

I think I would prefer to give Italian lessons.

Good night, Philip.

Idiot.

Idiot, idiot.

What shall we give her?

Think of a figure that you consider fair and reasonable.

- Very well. - Have you done it?

- I have. - It's in your head?

- It is. - Double it.

If we're going to do this, we have to do it properly.

How Ambrose would have done it.

As you wish.

- Write the letter. - Now?

Oh! Were we expecting you today?

- I've just, uh... - Will you take something?

I'm... but thanks.

Did he give you coffee?

Glad to see you've cheered up.

What do you mean?

Yesterday. You seemed all down in the dumps.

I'm amazed you noticed.

We all did. I'm surprised the Pascoe girls

didn't remark on it. Thank you.

Well, the Pascoe girls were probably far too busy

remarking on something else.

What?

How easy it must be for a woman like your cousin Rachel

to twist you around her little finger.

Get on.

- Where is she? - In the kitchen.

- Doing what? - Hard to tell.

I do hope you don't mind.

Not at all.

- What is it? - Tisana.

It's Italian tea,

infusions made from these herbs.

Here, try.

Try.

It's, um, disgusting.

It's good for you. It's good for the health.

Hmm.

Where have you been?

Out and about.

You made him write this!

What? What do you...

I did nothing of the sort.

If you had set out to humiliate me, Philip,

you really couldn't have got off to a better start!

- Why? - Why?

Because now it looks as if I came begging to you!

But you haven't. You didn't.

Can't you let me be a person in my own right?

A woman who's making her way in the world as she wishes to.

Don't you see that if I had wanted your money,

I would have asked you for it?

Don't you understand it was just... It was a...

It was a joke about the Italian lessons.

- It wasn't a joke. - Well, what if it wasn't?

Is there something so terribly shameful about that?

Yes! Yes!

You're Ambrose's wife.

I, his heir, will not permit it.

Do you understand? I simply...

I simply will not permit it. Do you understand?

God!

You'd better take something up to her.

Philip.

Did I wake you?

No.

Thank you for the note.

I was foul.

I'm sorry.

I would much rather you hit me than to hear you cry.

My mother...

died before I can remember.

I've never seen a woman cry.

I shall accept the allowance...

gratefully,

but I should leave.

- To go where? - It doesn't matter where.

I thought you liked being here.

- Were you just being polite? - Don't be a fool.

If Ambrose hadn't been such an idiot,

this place would have been your home.

I think I'm the idiot.

I thought coming here would bring him back to life.

I don't know why you came.

I don't know anything about you.

All I know is that I like it now you're here...

...and I don't want you to go.

Is that complicated?

Very.

If you want to go, then go.

It'll cause a lot of talk, but...

Well, I would have thought it would cause a lot more talk

if I stayed.

I'll have to talk to your godfather.

It's no concern of his.

There is only one issue

and that's whether you want to stay or not.

How can you ask me that? You know the answer to that.

No, I don't know. Of course I don't know.

I don't know... That's the point.

So you'll stay?

- At least for a little while? - I'll stay.

Yes, for a little while.

- Then I'll say good night. - Good night.

- And I hope you'll sleep. - You too.

And not be angry with me.

I wasn't angry with you, Philip.

Come here.

Bend down.

Now go to bed like a good boy. Go. Go.

- She's ready. - Yes, I can see.

Er, anything more for the mail?

Yes.

In fact, why don't you leave that with me, Wellington?

- We can drop it off on our way. - Very good, sir.

Hurry up.

This is a tisana made with fennel and rose hips.

All together...

it's going to make you better.

They'll think you're a witch.

Or worse, they'll call for you in the middle of the night

to deliver babies.

Hmm, there's a tisana for that too.

See. Witch.

Why should women suffer in childbirth?

Is it simply their destiny to do so?

I've never thought about it.

No, of course you haven't.

You know nothing about women.

I do hope I haven't said anything to hurt you.

Nothing.

Then what is it, Philip? Please tell me.

Please.

You need to read inside the envelope itself.

"She has done for me at last.

Rachel, my torment.

Please come quickly."

How you have hated me.

Yes.

That's no use.

You're not the woman I hated.

If you don't want them, Philip,

do you think we might let the people

who live on the estate, who loved him,

have his clothes?

That's an excellent idea.

What do we do with it all?

I don't know.

Do you think you could wear any of it?

No.

I feel it is as if we've just opened up his coffin.

And we're staring down at him.

Rachel?

It's all right. Don't cry.

Don't cry. It's all right.

It's all right. It's all right.

- I don't want her to know. - Sir?

About the tree.

- I want it to be a surprise. - Very good.

Not like that, you fucking prick-wit!

It's all crooked!

- Sorry, sir. - Not at all.

Where is she, by the way?

In her room.

It looks like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Get it straightened up.

All right, come in.

Oh, it's you! No, don't look.

Go away. Go.

I need something special, Mr. Couch.

Aren't they beautiful?

I've never seen anything quite like it.

It's the finest piece in the whole collection.

No question of it.

No one's worn them for 25 years.

Not since your mother's wedding.

Well... I want it now.

Is that prudent? What if it should be lost or mislaid?

It won't be lost, Mr. Couch.

And if you're worried about what my godfather might say,

please rest assured that he wholly approves.

Nevertheless, as your family lawyer for all these years,

I would have preferred Mr. Kendall to have been present.

As I say, he's away.

- John. - Sir?

Take this to the mistress, if you will.

Very good, sir.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Good evening.

Good evening.

It's so beautiful.

There were three ravens on a tree

Hey, down down, hey, down.

The first one says "What's this I see?"

There lies a dead man in yon lea.

Hey, down down, down.

We'll sit all on his old breastbone.

Hey, down down, hey, down.

We'll sit all on his old breastbone.

Timothy.

Geoffrey.

Reverend Pascoe.

It is. Oh, it is.

Thank you for our gifts.

Thank Mrs. Ashley.

I will do.

Happy Christmas!

Bye, Belinda, Mary. Bye-bye. Good luck tomorrow. Thank you.

- Where are the others? - Upstairs, I think.

Actually I'm glad of this chance to have a quiet word.

Yes?

I've had some news from the bank.

Oh, yes.

Some rather disturbing news, in fact.

Your cousin is already severely overdrawn on her account.

I can only think she's been sending money out of the country.

To who?

Nonsense. No, no.

She's just generous.

Tonight, for example, you saw...

A gift for every family in the room.

That won't account for an overdraft of this magnitude.

Then there's all this... The fabrics, the curtains...

Again, I hardly think shop...

Shh. You simply just must increase the allowance.

- Increase? - Yes.

Cover the overdraft.

I've been doing a little asking around.

Did you know that the duel in which her first husband died

was fought over one of her lovers?

I don't believe that.

They were notorious,

both him and her,

for unbridled extravagance

and apparently... limitless...

appetite.

Do you understand?

Do you?

I never thought you'd fall so low

as to listen to gossip of that sort.

You had no right to take that necklace.

It's mine and it's from the estate.

The estate is not yet yours, as you well know.

What of it? It will be soon.

I must ask you to desire her to return the collar.

Really?

Well, that's the last thing in the world I intend to do.

Then I must do it for you.

And I'll be damned if you will.

Here.

Louise explained.

It was quite right that you ask for their return.

- No. - Please, Philip.

It was a great honor to wear them on such a special evening. Thank you.

I want you to wear them every night.

Do you need wrapping for them?

No, thank you.

Ah. There.

- You'll regret this. - Be quiet.

You're a fool.

Thank you for a delightful

and successful evening, Philip.

Let's hope the dancing doesn't keep you awake all night.

Oh, yes.

May I wish you both a very Happy Christmas?

Oh, and you too. Merry, Merry Christmas.

- Happy Christmas. - Happy Christmas, Louise.

- Good night, Philip. - Happy Christmas, Philip.

Good night.

- Thank you again. - Oh, thank you so much.

Such a memorable evening.

The snow's still falling.

Keep warm. Don't get wet.

- Merry Christmas! - Happy Christmas.

Happy Christmas!

I wanted you to wear it...

to have it.

- Hush. - Everything is ruined.

My mother wore those pearls on her wedding day...

and my grandmother...

and her mother before her.

That's why I was so proud and happy to wear them.

Had I been married here and not in Italy,

I should have worn them too.

Don't be sad.

Happy Christmas, dear, dear Philip.

We must go back to the party

because the guests are waiting for you.

Happy Christmas, Philip.

By rights, the jewels are yours anyway.

Not just the jewels, everything.

I'm sure there must be a will.

- There was. - Ah-ha.

But it was never signed.

Do you have it? Can I see it?

He leaves you everything.

But it's not signed.

So? It's his handwriting.

January.

Do you know why he chose January to make his will?

And then chose not to sign it?

I lost a child.

- Something else died, too. - What?

Hope? I don't know.

His belief in me, in us.

It made him ill.

I'd never felt so alone.

One day, I woke up and I found myself...

living with a stranger...

who hated me...

and wanted to hurt me.

There is no bitter feeling in this house.

You belong here now.

Just as he did.

Thank you.

There doesn't appear to be any proviso should Mrs. Ashley marry again.

That's not likely to happen.

But the point should be covered, should it not?

If you insist.

In case of marriage, her property should revert to you.

Unless, presumably, you predecease her?

Er, yes, yes. Very well.

You are a stickler for these things, aren't you, Mr. Couch?

Well, that's my job, Master Ashley... to stickle.

And you would like this to be ready

and drawn up in legal form by your 25th birthday?

Yes, on the day that the property falls to me.

Absolutely.

You're doing a very generous thing, if I may say so.

Giving everything away the very moment it becomes yours.

Generous, one might say, to the point of...

Rashness?

Will you do as I ask?

Well?

Oh, Philip.

We have a guest.

- What a surprise. - Such a charming house.

I hope you don't mind, your cousin

has been giving me the grand tour.

And much grander than I had been led to believe.

Benito Casteluccio had brought you an enormous bunch of flowers.

- Cosimo was furious. - So angry.

I came to wish you good night.

I wish you the same.

He's a very old friend...

and we had a lot to talk about.

Of course.

Well?

Who exactly is Benito Casteluccio?

And why did he bring you flowers?

He was old and very fat...

and his breath smelled of cigars.

I'm sorry. You've been so good.

He's leaving in the morning.

It's excellent, Mr. Couch.

Quite excellent.

Everything's as we discussed.

And you're quite determined

that this is what you want to do,

Master Ashley?

Quite determined?

There is another thing, Mr. Couch, if you don't mind?

- All of them, Master Ashley? - All of them, Mr. Couch.

Does she have any knowledge of this?

None whatsoever.

And you're quite determined on this course?

Quite.

You're completely infatuated with your cousin, are you not?

I'm just doing what I believe is right.

You realize you could lose everything?

I'm willing to take that risk.

Unless she marries.

- For a third time. - That's unlikely.

I don't suppose you've thought of asking her yourself?

Why. have you?

Very well.

Let's, er...

- If you, erm... - Yes.

- Just here. - Mmm-hmm.

Thank you.

There.

Thank you.

Thank you for your affection for me and for Ambrose.

And your good guardianship over the years.

Guardianship which ends tomorrow.

Tonight, in fact at midnight.

Then happy birthday, Philip,

tonight, at midnight.

I don't suppose you want to see Louise?

- Is she here? - Yes, I think so.

- I think I should... - No.

Why don't you ride over tomorrow?

The two of you? Drink my health?

Morning, Joshua!

Master Ashley!

Master Ashley!

I'm all right! I'm all right!

There, boy.

You're lucky the whole cliff didn't fall down on top of you.

- Good boy. There we go. - I was miles away.

There we go. Hey, steady now.

Thank you. Thank you.

- It's all right. - Don't you want this one?

Take on a hedge, did we, sir?

Cliff path.

Gorran Head. Damn path fell into the sea beneath me.

Yes. Full moon, spring tide.

Damn near went in after it.

Rachel.

Rachel.

- What is it? - I've got something for you.

I'm asleep.

Philip.

What are you doing?

You're going to break your neck.

Ow.

You'll break your neck.

It's all right. I made it.

I'm a little old for Juliet, don't you think?

This...

I want you to read later.

But this...

I want you to have now.

You've gone... You've gone completely mad.

Look, I'm 25. I can do whatever I want.

Wear this.

There's only one thing I want...

er, but I won't ask for it.

- Why not? - Because you'd slap my face.

Tell me.

I know... I...

I know now what I lack.

- Do you? - Yes.

Are you sure?

I'm sure.

Happy birthday.

John!

- John. - Sir?

- I want a picnic packed. - Yes, sir.

- Picnic for two, bottle of wine. - Very good, sir.

Wellington!

Wellington!

- Where is it? - What, sir?

The carriage.

Don't you know? Er, mistress took it, sir.

Where'd they go?

No idea. Town?

It's a lovely day for your birthday, Master Ashley.

Yes, it is.

A lovely day.

Whoa, whoa! Whoa!

Where have you been?

I've been waiting all morning. Where...

- Do you want some? - No, thank you.

- Where have you been? - I've been to Pelyn to see your godfather.

What for?

Well, the wording of your document was a little obscure

and I wanted to be absolutely sure that I knew what it meant.

And is it clear now?

Quite clear.

Put up your veil.

I know your godfather disapproves of me,

but he was very sweet.

We even made a plan to meet up in London.

You don't still intend to go to London, do you?

Why ever not?

Oh, how pretty it is.

- Sit for a moment. - I'm not tired.

Just for a moment.

I've been sitting in that carriage for hours.

So have I,

sitting like an idiot at the front door

waiting for you to come back.

There.

This was my plan...

which you have spoilt...

by lunching with the dull old Kendalls.

I rather thought it might be.

Let me get up.

Oh...

Here.

Thank you.

If I'd known I was coming into a fortune,

I would have given you a considerably larger pearl.

It's lovely. Thank you.

Shall we go?

Mistress's compliments.

What is it?

Twig soup.

Special brew, she says. Birthday brew.

Says you've got to drink the lot.

And then he proceeded

to dance around the house,

up and down the stairs, up and down,

and, really,

it was the oddest jig you've ever seen.

Philip.

- Philip? - Philip. Philip.

To you.

Long life and happiness.

- To Philip. - To you.

I, er...

I too have a toast to make, erm, tonight.

Oh.

Since this morning I have been...

the happiest of men.

And I want you, my godfather,

and you, dear, dear Louise,

to drink to my happiness.

And the reason for such happiness...

the woman to be my wife.

Rachel.

My darling.

Have you gone out of your mind?

Of course not.

Please.

I think that the birthday excitement has gone to Philip's head,

and I think that we should retire to the next room.

I have known shame in my life.

Terrible shame...

but this is the worst.

You weren't ashamed last night.

You weren't ashamed this afternoon.

Ashamed of what?

Of... of...

Why should I be ashamed of that?

You asked me... You asked me what it was that I lacked,

and I said the only thing that I lacked...

Oh, my god.

Was...

Was...

Was you.

No. Oh, god.

- Didn't you enjoy it? - Well, didn't you?

You know I did.

Good. I wanted you to enjoy it.

- I wanted to thank you. - For what?

For what? For everything.

For... For being so kind to me,

for the jewels.

What did you... did you...

Did you think you had bought me?

Wait. Wait. Please, please, please.

- Kiss me, please. - Let go of my arm.

Kiss me, please. Just kiss me.

- Let go of my arm. - Kiss me.

- Kiss me, please. - Let go of me.

I've been worried about you for so long.

Since before Christmas.

You know nothing about her.

Or is it you who know nothing?

It's no use.

I'm fond of you and you of me,

but if we keep on talking,

we'll end up hating each other.

Do you love her so very much?

Don't think I don't know how much of a fool

I must appear to you.

I asked her to marry me.

I shall continue to ask her.

When exactly did you ask her?

The moment I came of age. Yesterday.

- My god, yesterday. - What did she say?

I thought she said yes, but...

In fact, she meant no.

Was this before or after she read the document?

Before. She read it the morning after.

And wasted no time in driving over to see us.

She said she didn't fully understand it.

Well, she understood it pretty damn well by the time she left.

We stood on the steps in the sunshine

waiting for her carriage

and my father said to her,

"The marriage clause may strike you as a little hard.

You must remain a widow if you want to keep your fortune."

And what did she... What did she say?

She just smiled and put on her gloves

and said, "That suits me very well."

That clause is to protect the estate.

If she were my wife... of course it wouldn't apply.

No. No, you're wrong.

If she marries you, or anyone else,

then everything, the house, everything, reverts to you.

But I'd share everything with her,

every penny.

She knows that.

A wife can't send money out of the country.

A wife would have to live here,

in England, with her husband.

- The peg moves forward. - Moves forward two points.

- And play. - Oh, don't we say "muggins"?

- Muggins. Muggins. Muggins. - Muggins.

Hello, Philip.

I invited Mary Pascoe to stay in the house with me,

as my companion.

I do hope you approve.

Do you play? It's cribbage.

- Can I speak to you? - Yes.

- I can teach you if you like. - Alone.

Well, anything you want to say can be said in front of Mary.

I don't want to be in the way. Let me go into my room.

Leave the door open, Mary, so you may hear me if I need you.

Yes, certainly, Mrs. Ashley.

- Don't do that. - Do what?

Don't close the door.

After last night, I cannot be alone with you.

Please don't do this.

I don't feel safe with you.

I beg you.

Goodness me. If I were you,

I would get Dr. Smalls to have a look at that.

Thank god.

You're back.

There.

- Rachel... - Don't speak.

Here.

How long was I out?

Five days.

And the Pascoe girl?

Sent packing.

Keep still. Keep still.

Glad to see

Wellington's cutting back the laburnum.

What's that?

Well, if a horse gets a mouthful of that,

it would kill them.

Oh, yes. You had one in Italy.

Did I?

By the fountain in a pot. Do you remember?

Did I?

Well, I can't be expected to remember everything.

Here.

Drink.

Where do you go?

Where?

Are you worried I'll tire the horses?

No. No.

I'm worried you're about to leave.

Are you leaving me?

You should have left me to die.

Don't.

Soon none of this will seem quite so bad.

You belong here.

In a little while you'll be strong again

and everything will be just as it was before I came.

You are at the beginning of everything.

A boy.

How can I live with a boy?

However lovely.

Hmm?

A glorious puppy...

wandering around, miserable and wet-nosed,

looking for its mother.

Drink.

Drink.

"She's going through all the money like water,

grasping, greedy for everything,

but clever too, cunning.

It's a disease. She can't help herself.

She'll take every single penny.

She'll ruin me.

She'll ruin us. She'll ruin everything."

What is that?

Nothing.

What was it?

Nothing. It was...

Why is he here?

- Because I asked him. - Why?

Why not? I needed advice.

- What for? - Not your business.

How long have you been lying to me?

You hate him.

If I'd told you he was here,

it would have made you sick again.

Send him away. Send him away!

- Why don't I bring him here? - Are you mad?

He can stay here as my protector.

- He can stay in my bedroom. - You wouldn't dare.

Why not? Why not?

Why shouldn't I have a life of my own

and make a life for myself and do as I please?

This house is mine, after all, isn't it?

- Isn't it mine? - God!

Get away from me. Stay away from me!

Or I will call the servants. You stay away.

Do you want to be shamed in front of the servants?

Do you?

Go on.

Call for them.

For all of them.

Go on.

Tell them what's happened here between us.

All of it.

Put an end to it.

I'm too tired.

I'm too tired to fight.

I can't do this again.

I can't.

All of this.

Even... Even the hands at my throat.

I can't.

I can't do it all again.

I was very grateful

for Master Ambrose's coat, Master Ashley,

very grateful.

And I had never put it on before yesterday.

It's too good for me, I thought.

I was very grateful for it, Master Ashley, very grateful.

And I put my hand in the pocket

and there it was, Master Ashley, sir,

there it was.

Still sealed. Still sealed.

"You are the only person

in the world I can trust.

Drop everything. Come out to me.

Only come straightaway.

I fear for my life.

The headaches, the sickness, the fever,

suddenly I understand.

The bitter potions, poisoning me.

All this time she's been poisoning me."

I've been a fool.

In Florence,

I used to brew the tisana in the salotto

and then let it stand for a while.

And then we would go out into the little courtyard,

if it wasn't too hot, and sit,

and I would turn on the fountain

and we would sip the tisana.

Hmm.

Ambrose would sit there for hours.

Hmm.

Here.

Oh, no, not that one. That's Philip's.

Thank you.

- Here. - No, thank you.

Oh, but this is a special batch.

I've made it double strength.

Well, then, you drink it for me.

What do you think?

Hmm.

Mmm!

It's, erm...

It's very interesting.

Ha!

I think it might take me a while to fall in love with it.

Who'll come riding with me?

Oh, we could take the carriage,

if you prefer.

You go.

Louise and I have some business to discuss.

You do?

What a waste, on a day like this.

Very well. I shall go on my own.

I won't be long. Finish your tea.

Where are you off to?

I don't know. Up Barton Hill, perhaps,

or into the woods.

Do you think the bluebells are still there?

The bluebells are long gone, I'm afraid.

Ah.

- You might try the cliff path. - Yes, that's an idea.

There are seal pups this time of year off Gorran Head.

You're looking better.

You look...

beautiful.

I'm sorry.

What are we looking for?

Laburnum seeds, letters. I don't know.

She poisoned Ambrose and now she's poisoning me.

Don't you see?

It's Couch. It's the lawyer.

"We thank you for the return of the jewels,

which according to your instruction will remain with us

until your heir, Philip Ashley, may take possession of them."

Oh, so...

So she's giving them back.

The jewelry, she's giving it back.

Keep looking.

Philip, I don't know what we're looking for anymore.

- Shouldn't we just... - Keep looking, please!

Here, it's in Italian. It's Rainaldi, it must be.

Is it him?

It's signed Enrico. Is that right?

Yes, that's him, yes.

Well, translate it for me, please.

"Dearest Rachel,

on second thoughts,

if you really cannot bring yourself

to leave the boy behind,

bring him with you.

I still don't think it's a good idea,

but, then again, Italy and some sunshine

may be the making of him."

Is that it?

Philip, inquiries were made. My father...

What inquiries?

In matters of the heart, it seems that...

Enrico Rainaldi is more Greek than he is Italian.

He likes boys, Philip.

Wellington!

- I'll get a saddle! - Damn the saddle!

Who's to blame?

I was an orphan.

Ambrose took me in.

He was my cousin,

but I loved him like a father.

Now I'm a father.

What can I teach them?

What can I tell them?

Headaches blind me.

Was she?

Did she?

Didn't she?

Rachel, my torment.