Can I borrow some money? I'm going to sink our coal pit.
Of course, you can.
Thomas Ainsworth, he's asking if might see you
for just a few moments.
I'm giving you the opportunity to leave here,
and return to Norwich with something you barely deserve.
Your reputation.
Mr. Abbot is coming to tea.
- Will you be here? - No.
The family are concerned about a relationship
with Miss Lister and Miss Walker.
Don't let them poison you against us.
Would you have any objection
to taking the sacrament together?
I can't do this anymore! It's wrong!
You understand nothing about me. Absolutely nothing!
Miss Lister knows we're stealing her coal.
If she wants to start running with the big dogs,
she's gonna have to find what it's like
when they really start biting.
I don't believe the Reform Act
went far enough!
I'm not by inclination a radical,
but the fact is people are becoming radicalized,
whether people like us are reconciled to it or not,
and those of us who do, perhaps, live in the past...
Need to see which way the wind's blowing,
or you watch,
we'll have more trouble than we know what to do with.
Now, "revolution" is, uh, a very emotive word.
I understand that.
- Oh! - Shh, shh.
It's nothing.
I just need some warm water.
I just need some water.
Can you bring it up to my room?
Yes, ma'am.
What's happened, ma'am?
Nothing.
Do you want me to...
No.
Thank you.
I'll do it.
Can I get you some brandy?
No.
Should I tell your aunt or your father that you...
No. Will you just...
Ma'am.
Just let me know when Mr. Abbott's gone.
Should I not send for Dr. Kenny?
No.
There was a package came for you.
Shall I fetch it? It's in your study.
Mm.
Go on. You've got things to do.
Fell off a wall?
It was dark.
What was she doing on a wall in the dark?
Walking on it.
- Yes, why? - Because it was there.
- Exactly. - Like Mont Blanc.
Which wall?
The one... the one coming back from Lightcliffe
along the Leeds road.
Not that one that falls away 15 feet on the other side?
Well, it wouldn't have been worth doing
if it was any lower.
In all that wind?
Who on earth put you up to that?
No one. Me.
Anyway, that's why I didn't
come down for dinner last night.
I was feeling bilious.
Did it seem like a good idea at the time?
Wasn't as dangerous as that time I walked
across the parapet of North Bridge
that time it flooded.
When did you do that?
1815.
I had to. I had to get into Halifax.
I was running out of ink.
Well, you missed Mr. Abbott.
Who?
Oh.
Was that yesterday?
Yes? How was it?
It went very well.
Are you sure?
How is Miss Walker?
Oh, she's...
Sorry, I-I think I'm going to be sick.
Those aren't the sorts of injuries
anyone gets from falling off a wall.
If you could be present next time,
when he brings his mother,
I'd be grateful.
Dearest Mary,
since I am more eager than ever to be off,
I am keen to acquire a groom, which, you will recall,
I have been without since George Playforth's demise
at Langton earlier this year,
when he was shot out of a tree.
Do think about this for me.
I should like a good, strong, English groom
who would do anything in the world for me.
A little enterprise necessary,
otherwise, he will soon tire of the Continent
long before I am likely to have any inducement
to return from it.
Dearest Fred,
there is a man who might suit.
He has lived two years with our neighbors,
the Kinnersleys, and is a native of Lawton.
A remarkably handsome young man
called Thomas Beech.
He understands horses and carriages
and would much like to go abroad.
He has a good character
and I believe would do anything in the world
to make himself useful to you.
Tell me, Fred,
is it Miss Walker of Crow Nest
with whom you plan to travel?
No, Mary, it isn't.
You mentioned her twice in your last
as "my friend"...
Did I?
And as you are not won't to bestow the title lightly,
I am puzzled to understand
how she has so quickly succeeded
in adding herself to the list so designated.
My dearest Mary,
it sounds as if your Thomas Beech
would suit me down to the ground.
- Hmm. - Oh.
Turns out Mariana may have found me a groom.
Oh.
I'll put him on wages straightaway,
and then I can be off again whenever...
Your health permitting... and the weather.
Uh, Mr. Rawson's servant left you a note
while you were upstairs.
- Which Mr. Rawson? - Jeremiah.
What does he want?
To discuss the terms of the coal lease... again.
You all right?
Hmm.
I couldn't warm to Mr. Abbott,
much as I wanted to.
I found him abrasive and a know-all.
But if she likes him, and she seems to,
and he has done very well for himself,
surely that's something.
It would be a great comfort to me
to know you're both settled.
Hmm.
I'm afraid it may all be off
between me and Miss Walker.
Us setting up home together.
I think she may be too nervous and insipid for me.
It's a shame, because I, um...
I'd become rather more fond of her
than I ever imagined I would.
I really had started to think that we could both
be good for one another,
irrespective of all her money.
And she's so sweet.
She's so good-natured.
She's so kind...
And she...
She looks up to me.
I certainly do her more good
than any single one of her tribe of relations.
Well, then, what's...
Them.
All of them.
They filled her head with nonsense...
Nasty nonsense about me,
till she doesn't know whether she's coming or going.
She just wants some courage,
the courage to follow her...
Her instincts,
but she won't.
She'll just stay there, surrounded by them,
and her world will just get smaller and sadder
until one day, there'll be nothing left.
She'll be as dry as a stick, and then she'll just disappear.
And I could make her so happy.
But what's the point?
She barely has the courage to step outside
her own front door.
So anyway, that said, it...
It's all off.
Well, then, who will you travel with?
No one.
You mean alone?
Do people do that? Ladies?
No, but I'll take Eugénie and this groom,
this Thomas Beech, to Paris,
and I'll take it from there.
I'll see what providence throws at me this time.
It's a big step for her, moving in here,
and if her family aren't sympathetic,
maybe it's for the best.
Ma'am, Mr. Washington's here.
Tell him I'll see him in the hall.
Yes, ma'am.
Been in the wars, ma'am?
After a fashion.
So, uh, it's all sorted out for Friday
down at the Stag's Head.
There's been plenty of interest.
The Mann brothers, particularly,
very keen to put in a bid.
I want to put the pit-sinking on hold.
Sorry?
The Rawsons got back to me, finally.
Turns out they do still want
to discuss the terms of the lease.
But... I thought the decision had been made, ma'am,
to sink the pit.
Surely, you've given them
more than enough time to respond.
Are they not... messing you about?
It's not like you to go back on a decision
once it's been made.
My circumstances and my priorities
have altered somewhat
over the last few days,
so I want to pause and reassess
and be certain I'm making the right choices.
Right.
So how did Suzannah get on with Miss Hebden?
Oh, she's gone to meet her just this morning, ma'am.
That's... thank you.
That's... we're... we're very grateful for that introduction.
Hello.
Miss Washington.
Uh, sorry. Am I blocking the lane?
Oh, no, no, you're all right.
This keeps busting.
You off into Halifax?
Yeah.
I can give you a lift.
Oh, that's very kind of you.
Just got to drop this one off at Bateman's.
Won't take five minutes.
Oh, no, I don't want to know
what Mr. Bateman's gonna do to it!
They say it's the best end a pig could have,
at Mr. Bateman's hands.
How?
He's quick.
They know nowt about it,
and they become the finest hams and... and sausages
and pies in Halifax.
I've got an appointment with Miss Hebden
about an apprenticeship,
learning to make dresses.
If she likes me, she'll want me to start Monday.
25 shillings a year, plus board.
- Oh, well, that's... good. - Yeah, but...
I don't want to go.
Why?
Well, I won't see anyone all week,
anyone I care about.
You'll see me.
If Mr. Bateman likes the merchandise,
I'll be supplying to him regularly.
I might be down here every five minutes.
Well, he'll like the merchandise, all right.
I've never seen such a fine, handsome pig.
What have you been feeding him on?
All sorts.
I can wait for you, if you like.
I can give you a lift back.
You don't want to be hanging around, waiting for me.
Hang the whores!
Anyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent
has already committed adultery with her in their heart.
If your right eye causes you to sin, rip it out!
Burn in hell!
If your right hand causes you to sin...
- Fear thy God! - Cut it off!
For it is better that you lose
one of your members
than that your whole body goes to hell!
Hell was created for the devil and his angels.
It was a place made for everlasting torment
and punishment.
You are going to die!
No! No! No!
No!
What's the matter?
Ann, what on earth's the matter?
I... I...
Oh, have you had a nightmare?
You've had a nightmare.
It was so real!
No.
No, no. No. Shush!
Shush! Stop it! Stop it!
Ann, Ann, what is it?
- What is it? - Can't you...
- What is it? - Can't you hear them?
- Stop it! Stop it! - Who?
John Abbott?
Oh, yes, yes.
He's making quite a name for himself
one way or another.
A member of this, that, and the other society,
getting himself elected into all sorts of committees
within the town.
Why?
Oh, he's sniffing around Marian.
Is he?
Well, that would make sense.
How?
Well, marrying a bit of pedigree,
not having any himself.
Ah.
Miss Lister.
- Mr. Rawson. - Oh, dear.
What happened?
You should see the other fellow.
Hmm.
He won't attempt anything like that again,
not in a hurry.
Whoever paid him to do it
should ask for their money back.
She fell off a wall.
What were you doing on a wall?
You wanted to discuss the terms of the lease with me,
again.
- Yes. - Why?
Has your position altered?
No, but my brother thought...
yours might have.
Did he? Why?
Having had time to dwell upon it.
Hmm.
Well, oddly enough, Mr. Rawson,
my position has altered,
but only very slightly,
and not for any reason your brother might fathom.
I'm prepared to offer you an abatement
on the price of the upper bed.
I'll offer it to you at £129 and 10 shillings,
and the reason for it is a sincere desire
to just get on with it,
instead of going around in circles.
- That's... - However...
I'm not prepared to compromise on the price of the lower bed,
at £22617 shillings and sixpence,
or any of the clauses.
I would like access to the pit at any time,
and there will be a £500 penalty incurred
should any water be turned on the pit
at any point in the future.
Neither of these requests are unreasonable.
Only someone with something to hide
would think they were.
I'll talk to him again.
Perhaps an abatement on the price of the upper bed
will do the trick.
Who knows?
Captain Lister.
Miss Lister.
I thought...
are we not sinking our own pit?
I don't know what's going on with Miss Walker.
She blows hot and cold.
It's not her fault, it's...
difficult for her with... With her family.
They never leave her alone,
and they put ridiculous ideas in her head.
She had said I could borrow the money,
but I can't.
I don't want to.
And I didn't fall off a wall.
I was...
Beaten up.
Sorry?
I was beaten up, by a thug,
who someone must have paid to do it...
I assume by them, the Rawsons.
I mean, not him. Not Jeremiah.
I don't think Jeremiah
could knock the skin off a rice pudding,
even if he paid someone to do it, but Christopher...
I wouldn't put anything past Christopher,
because he thinks he can get away with anything.
But w-why? W-why would he do that?
To warn me off!
To make me sign the blasted lease
without insisting on any inconvenient clauses,
so he can take what he likes.
You know it was him who caused the accident as well,
when little Henry Hardcastle lost his leg?
He was the idiot driving the gig.
He was seen!
You did right to warn me off coal.
It's a nasty business.
But I won't be beaten, not by him.
Not by anyone.
Ma'am,
Miss Walker's manservant
from Crow Nest is here
with a message.
- James? - Ma'am.
What's the matter?
Miss Lister.
Thank goodness you're here.
Miss Rawson.
What happened to Miss Parkhill?
I-I think she couldn't stand it.
I didn't realize Ann was so ill.
None of us did.
It's so much worse than last time she was...
like this.
She had a terrible nightmare, apparently...
She won't tell anyone what it was about...
And then...
She... she says she can hear voices,
in her room, in the night.
Where is she?
Ann.
I thought you'd gone forever!
I thought you'd given up on me.
I thought I'd never see you again!
Anne, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry about all the things I said.
What happened to you?
Nothing.
Harriet's gone.
I told her to leave.
People are worried about you.
Tell me what's going on.
Don't leave me again.
Promise me.
You said what we did was repugnant and queer.
No, I love you.
I want to be with you. I want to marry you.
- Shh, shh. - I'll do everything...
I'll do everything you said.
I don't want to go abroad,
not in the state I'm in at the moment,
but everything else.
No, we need to get you better first.
Don't leave me again. Promise me.
- I'll do what I can... - Promise me.
I'll do what I can for you.
Will you stay tonight?
Please stay tonight.
I need you.
I need you here, because you see,
some very strange things have been happening,
and no one believes me,
but you will.
You'll hear them.
If you... if you stay in the room tonight,
you'll hear them.
Who will I hear?
They're... they're... They're spirits.
Something to do
with the clock on the landing.
I know, Anne.
I know... I know that sounds bizarre,
but I'm not making it up.
I don't make things up.
Ma'am.
Ma'am?
Miss Lister? Ma'am?
A note from Miss Lister.
The servant from Crow Nest brought it.
Oh. Thank you.
He's waiting in the kitchen for Eugénie
to pack Miss Lister's overnight bag
if there's any reply.
No, no. No reply, thank you.
She's staying over at Crow Nest for the night.
Thought it was all off with Miss Walker.
Mm.
Where is Miss Pierre from?
Oh, can never remember.
Where's she from again... Eugénie?
Oh, is it Dieppe?
Rouen, summat?
We're not overly impressed, Mr. Mackenzie,
between you and me.
Are we, Mrs. Cordingley?
She's... very pretty.
You see, I don't think she is.
Et voilà.
Only me!
Mr. Mackenzie.
Mr. Booth.
Thank you, John. That's lovely.
Anne!
Mm?
I'm here.
Can you hear that?
What, the wind?
No, listen.
You must have heard that, surely.
What? No, I can't...
They're talking about you.
Are they?
And what are they saying about me?
Can you really not hear them?
Ann, they're not...
I can't hear anything. There's nothing there.
You're going to die.
- Well, yes, eventually. - Don't be glib!
They're going to kill you as well as me,
and we'll both burn in hell for all eternity!
What? No.
Everlasting torment in hellfire!
You must have heard that. Surely, you heard that.
When you say voices, how many can you hear?
Three. Shh!
Men? Women?
Men.
Sometimes, there's a woman.
Once, there was a woman.
- Do you recognize the voices... - Shh, shh, shh!
No, Ann, do you recognize the voices?
No. Shh.
Are they always the same voices?
Oh... they need to shut up.
They're disgusting. They're so... disgusting.
They're so cruel!
Yes, it's...
Yes, they're always the same voices,
but why is everyone pretending not to hear them?
Where are they?
In the clock.
Shh.
Don't go out there. They'll do something to you.
Just... just shout through the keyhole.
There's no one here, Ann.
Well, they're spirits. You can't see them.
Get back in here.
I'm going to take the weights out of the clock
to stop it sounding.
That's what's disturbed you.
That and the wind.
Which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Is she all right?
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
No, she...
I was in my room next door
and she heard the voices again.
I think someone
should stay with her in her room.
And forgive us our trespasses.
Would you like to?
She frightens me.
- I know. - Catherine?
C-Catherine?
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom
and the power and the glory, forever and ever.
Amen.
Ann?
Shh.
Shh, shh.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses...
Shh.
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
- Ann, shh. - We're here.
- Shh. - We're both here.
For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory.
Everything's all right. You're safe.
Our father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Has anyone written
to Ann's sister in Scotland?
I don't know.
But someone should.
She...
She is... she isn't in her right mind.
I know.
Look, Catherine,
first of all,
you must try not to get too upset.
You're doing all you can, you're being very strong,
and it's exactly what she needs.
And second,
I took her to see a Dr. Belcombe in York
a number of weeks ago.
He's the brother of a friend of mine,
and he's a very clever medical man.
He specializes in exactly this sort of thing.
I did it without telling any of Ann's...
Your family.
I might take her over there again.
The thing is... And I will, of course,
get her sister's consent this time...
But I would consider it a great favor
if you didn't tell anyone else
how bad it is...
The aunts and uncles and other cousins...
Because...
They'll have her put away.
And she can get over this.
With the right sort of help,
she may be able to make a full recovery,
and no one else need know any different.
I've heard the worst things said about you, Miss Lister.
And I want to apologize
for ever having listened to them.
I've never seen such kind, affectionate,
selfless display of friendship
as I saw last night,
and I-I feel ashamed
for ever having doubted you,
or... or thought you had any motive other than goodness.
You've not heard any more
from your sister since last week?
No. Why?
I had a letter from her friend, Miss Lister.
You have?
She wrote to me because she was mindful
of your delicate health since your confinement
and didn't want to upset you "unjudiciously,"
but there seems to be some...
new anxiety about Ann's...
health.
"I don't wish to alarm you or Mrs. Sutherland,
"but it is my belief that the advice
"of an experienced and clever medical man
"is necessary,
and that no time should be lost."
Well, she proposes to take her to a man in York,
a man she's seen before, but...
I don't know, I wonder...
whether we shouldn't persuade her to come up here,
where we can look after her.
Um...
She's very fond of Miss Lister,
and she's been very good to her,
and she's well-connected.
This doctor is probably very good.
Yes, but Miss Lister isn't family, is she,
and we have medical men in Edinburgh
more than equal to anyone in York.
Now, you're not fit to travel,
and with Sackville still in the measles,
he needs you here,
but I could go fetch her.
I could take my mother.
Mr. Wortley's latest defeat
in this constituency
was, I'm sad to say,
a foregone conclusion.
Uh, don't misunderstand me.
We are very much to the right of the question,
aren't we, Mother...
As I'm sure this household is...
But it has to be said,
he didn't put up a very good fight
at the hustings.
Were you there?
Oh, he looked terrified.
Now, can we be squeezing any more tea out of that pot?
I don't want to go living in Halifax
with Miss Thing.
I know I'd be learning a trade,
but she's such an old fossil.
There'd be no fun.
We always have fun at our house after tea.
Do you at yours?
Uh, since me dad went, yeah.
Miss Lister said,
once I get tenancy,
and I'll be 18 by then,
she'd prefer it if I...
if I... if I got married.
Said she likes her people married.
It... it makes them more settled and reliable.
Is that right?
Someone told me she had this tenant once
who said he'd never get married.
Then she found out
he'd got this lass from Northowram
in the family way,
done nowt about it,
so she threw him off the land
and offered to horse-whip him.
Do you want to marry me?
I don't think your dad would like it.
I think he'd think I wasn't good enough for you.
Well, yeah, but he married my mother.
Her mother and father wouldn't speak to her
for years after,
marrying a land steward's son.
Really?
But you live in that big house.
Yeah, only 'cause it was standing empty,
and Miss Walker said it'd be better
for it to be lived in.
You wouldn't want to live at our house.
Why wouldn't I?
I could help out on the farm,
I could teach little ones how to read and write...
You could teach me,
so when I'm signing tenancy, I'm not just putting a cross.
Oh, heck.
I'm gonna be late.
We're building the bridge over the Simplon Pass
up at Shibden.
Over the what?
It's in Switzerland.
Well, I thought you were proposing to me.
Well...
what do you think?
Well, I think, if you're serious,
you'd have to speak to my father.
Mr. Washington's been looking for you.
He says there are a lot of men up at Brierley Hill
filling in the Rawsons' Willy Hill pit.
He says they're demolishing all the sheds
and pulling up the access road.
The access road's on my land.
That's what...
Our land, yes.
That's what Mr. Washington said.
He said they've got no right to touch the... road.
And you missed Mr. Abbott and his mother.
I'm doing what I've been told to do.
But that road is on Shibden land,
whether you like it or not.
And when Miss Lister... You can tell her yourself.
What's going on?
Oh, fucking hell, I'm not talking to that bloody Jack.
What's happening?
Rawsons have called the pit in.
What's Hinscliffe doing here?
Well, apparently, right, it's in the terms
of his arrangement with the Rawsons
that once the Rawsons deem the beds to be exhausted,
he, Hinscliffe,
is obliged to fill in the pit and make it safe,
and then demolish the outbuildings
so they can sell off the stone.
That road is on Shibden land. That's my stone.
Yes, I know. That's why I...
Does he know that?
Well, he's saying it's in his contract with Rawson
to decommission the road along with everything else.
Well, that's wrong, the pit might be
on Rawson's land,
but the access road is my land.
I may want it.
I certainly want the value of my stone.
- Hinscliffe! - Uh-uh...
Be careful, ma'am.
- What? - He's not in a good mood.
Oh, that's a coincidence. Neither am I.
The Rawsons' beds are exhausted,
but his isn't.
This is the only access he's got to it,
and financially, it's a bad day for him,
and I know you were never going to,
but if you'd sold him that acre of land
he was after down at Listerwick,
he'd never have had to do a rubbish deal
over this pit of Rawson's.
I can't help that. Business is business.
Yes, but I-I'm just saying
that's why he might be rather less than civil to y...
Hinscliffe!
You tell your men to leave that road alone.
That's my land.
I don't care what your arrangement is
with Rawson.
Anyone who pulls up
another single one of those stones
will have the inconvenience of a trip to Wakefield jail!
Get a court order to stop them pulling up
and selling any stone belonging to Shibden land.
Course we can. That's not a problem.
But there's rather more to it.
What?
Mr. Rawson appears to have found out
that Hinscliffe was his rival for your coal.
How?
And that the price was so inflated
because he only wanted the one acre,
so he's lashing out at Hinscliffe,
and he's just come back to me this morning
with a much lower offer...
Mr. Rawson has,
and he's making it utterly plain
that he won't agree to your clauses either,
which we know are perfectly legitimate
and you're absolutely right to insist upon, but...
And, for some reason,
he no longer seems to fear
that you'll sink your own pit.
Is that, uh, the case?
For the moment, yes.
That isn't an option anymore.
But not for the reason he thinks.
The strategy for inflating the price
was arrived at solely to cover
what the Rawsons had stolen.
I wasn't being mercenary!
I know that, Anne.
I don't have to sign this agreement with him.
No, I don't think you should.
But then he'll continue to steal your coal anyway,
if you can't get down there to keep an eye on him yourself.
Of course, you could sell to someone else,
but, uh, then what's stolen is gone.
There'd be no recompense for that.
I know it's easier said than done,
but, uh, try not to take this too personally.
You're not the first person he's swindled,
and you won't be the last.
Sickening, isn't it?
You could always reopen Listerwick
down at Mytholm.
It'd be half the expense of sinking a new pit.
It has to be up there on the hill
to prove the trespass.
Oh.
It has to be a new pit.
And Miss Walker definitely isn't...
Mm.
Which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those
who trespass against us,
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil,
for thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory, forever and ever.
Amen.
Our father...
Hallowed be thy name...
Forever and ever.
Amen.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Ann.
Ann?
I've got to go.
I've got things to do.
Will you come back?
Yes, of course.
How I long to be creditably free
from all this madness,
and yet, I don't know how it is...
Whenever I see the girl,
she always manages to unhinge me.
My dear Miss Lister,
the soonest I find I can travel south
is a fortnight on Friday.
With luck, I shall reach Halifax
on the Monday,
when my mother and I
shall collect Miss Walker
and bring her back up to Scotland
to be with her sister,
when we will endeavor to find
the best medical man
Edinburgh has to offer.
My wife is writing separately to her sister
to say my journey is primarily one of business,
but to suggest at the same time
she takes the opportunity to return north with me.
When you read this letter,
she should also be in possession
of the letter from her sister proposing the idea.
I think it's a good idea,
a change of air, a change of scenery,
and think how much you'll enjoy seeing the children,
little Sackville and Alice and the new baby,
and Elizabeth will be so happy
to have you there again after all this time.
What do you think?
The medical establishment in Edinburgh is very good.
Your sister's right, and Catherine's right too.
A change of air is exactly what Dr. Belcombe prescribed.
He meant if I went to Paris and Rome with you.
Yes, but...
The time for that is gone now,
and you need to be a lot better for that.
This, for the moment,
would seem to be by far the best.
I thought you were going to take me
to see Dr. Belcombe again in York.
I thought that was why you'd written to her,
for permission to take me.
I did, I suggested it, but...
obviously, they think this is a better idea.
- They? - Your sister.
- They know nothing about me. - Oh, Ann.
She's your sister.
We can travel together when you're better.
There's plenty of time for that.
But you'll still go to Europe come spring?
I can't imagine I would get away until May,
at the earliest, but...
yes, that is still my intention.
With whom?
No one. I'd go alone.
- Really? - Well, a man and a maid.
Do ladies do that?
- Not as a rule, no. - Will you stay tonight?
Catherine...
Miss Rawson, would you mind if I had a few moments
alone with Miss Walker?
Oh, no.
Of course not.
Oh, I should get some fresh air
before the light falls.
I've lost you, haven't I?
You needn't have.
If I go to Scotland, I'll never see you again.
That's not necessarily the case.
I bought a ring.
I know you told me not to send for it,
but I already had, so...
Really is rather splendid.
Be loath to send it back.
Will you accept it?
Will you accept me?
Will you take the sacrament with me
and live with me at Shibden and mean it,
and not just say it
because you're scared to be alone tonight,
or because it's expedient, and then...
say something else in the morning?
I can't.
My dearest Mary,
after I've taken Thomas Beech and Eugénie
over to the Norcliffes to collect my carriage,
I shall go to London for two weeks
before I cross the water.
If you were able to join me there in London,
if Charles can manage without you,
for some or all of those two weeks,
I would, as always,
count it as a great blessing
to see you.
You ask me if I'm traveling with "my little friend,"
which I am not.
More of this if and when I see you.
Are you ill as well, Marian?
No, I feel perfectly well, thank you, Aunt.
You're quiet.
I've not heard anything from Mr. Abbott
for nearly three weeks.
Oh, dear.
Do you think he's... He did mention, as he left,
that he'd visited twice,
and both times,
Miss Lister had failed to appear.
It's you he's interested in, not me.
You are Miss Lister of Shibden Hall!
You own the place,
as you never tire of reminding everyone!
It is clearly a snub,
especially when a place has been set at the table,
if you choose not to turn up!
I can only assume he felt particularly humiliated
in front of his mother,
who was very polite and very well-mannered.
Yes, she was very p...
She was very quiet.
He isn't good enough for you.
You just don't want me to get married
because it frightens you that one day,
I could have a greater claim to Shibden than you.
Sorry, ma'am.
My dearest,
Captain Sutherland and his mother
arrived last night.
I write in utter misery.
What I said to you last, I bitterly repent.
If ever the prayers of so true a friend
may avail for another,
may yours be heard for me,
that the gate of mercy
may not be forever closed upon me,
for I am wretchedness itself.
I'm going out.
Ma'am.
Miss Lister, sir.
Ma'am.
How do you do, ma'am?
Captain Sutherland. We've corresponded.
Ah.
And, uh, this is my mother.
How do you do, ma'am?
I'm sorry the weather wasn't kinder to you
while you were on the road.
Where's Miss Walker?
Upstairs, packing... Supposed to be.
Well, she doesn't seem as eager to go
as we are to have her.
Miss Rawson has explained the, uh, delicacy
of the situation
with regard to the family,
and I would like to thank you, Miss Lister,
on behalf of my wife and myself,
for your sensitivity and kindness
and sound judgment in the matter.
I believe she can make a full recovery,
given the right sort of help.
She's perfectly herself on all subjects
but that of religious despondency.
We've been recommended a Dr. Hamilton, ma'am,
in Edinburgh.
A lady's physician.
What's your itinerary, Captain Sutherland?
We plan to set off first thing in the morning.
If we leave here by 10:00,
we can be in Edinburgh by Thursday evening
and Fortrose by Saturday night.
Should I go and see if...
Might be as well.
I don't want to go.
I know.
Stay tonight.
Promise me you'll stay tonight.
I will.
I will, I promise.
Oh...
Anne?
It...
What?
Nothing.
Anne!
I understand...
Why you can't commit to me.
It's impossible, I know.
How could anyone?
What am I?
Every day...
Every day,
I rise above it,
the things people say.
I walk into a room or down a street,
and I see the way people look at me,
and the things they say,
and I rise above it,
because... I've trained myself to,
not to see it and hear it,
until it's become second nature to me,
and I forget...
Just how impossible it is
for someone else to accept that.
But you came so close.
I wanted to give you this.
I wrote in it,
in the back.
For he shall give his angels
charge over thee,
to keep thee in all thy ways.
You are close to Miss Walker,
Miss Lister, ma'am.
I did wonder
if you knew of any love affair on her mind at present.
No.
Not that I know of.
She's never mentioned my nephew,
Sir Alexander Mackenzie?
No.
He proposed to her once, two years ago,
when she was last in Fortrose.
At first, he had reason to hope.
She was very civil to him,
but then it was no.
He must have mistaken her civility
for something else.
She's always civil.
He's not a bad man, Alexander,
and perfectly good-looking,
but he is rather...
And I shouldn't say it...
Inept with money,
in the past,
and he has his mother and his sisters to keep,
but who knows?
He might rise to the occasion.
She could do a lot worse.
It could suit them both.
I hope Miss Walker would never marry anyone
to pay their debts.
I trust Captain Sutherland would deal decisively
with any such fortune-hunters.
Mother, let's get you in.
Miss Lister.
Mrs. Sutherland.
You'll be all right.
Look after yourself.
Miss Lister.
I had the promise of a substantial investment,
which I no longer have.
Without it, I'd have to risk everything, my entire income.
Anne? Is it true...
that you have given Mr. Rawson the deeds to Shibden?
Part of me just wants to run off. Forget about it.
- That's not like you. - You might be surprised.
If Mariana and I ever did get together,
finally the world might make sense.
I still love you. More than your Ms. Walker.
Don't leave me.
Ann? What have you done?
I...