Belgravia

What have you to do in Manchester

I want to see some people.

He cheats the customs men when he imports cotton.

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

I know this is hard for you.

All this is because your son hates his own nephew?

He doesn't know the truth.

It's time to acknowledge him.

If he's acknowledged as a Bellasis,

we must give up our grandson.

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

We must make copies, now.

- Where are the originals? - Mr Bellasis wants the originals!

You do not surprise me. I made the copies. I know what's in them.

Charles Pope is my grandson.

In the letters the girl calls the marriage a sham.

We must find out about Bouverie.

He was in fact the Honourable Richard Bouverie.

So you mean the wedding in Brussels before the battle

was, erm... was valid?

Absolutely!

Whomever he married were definitely husband and wife.

These are the letters you wrote?

They are.

Every word is true?

- Every word is gospel. - Hm.

What price did you offer Mrs Girton for the factory?

What?

You say you agreed a deal with her which Charles then wrecked.

I would like to know what price you offered for the factory.

I can't remember.

I called on Mrs Girton yesterday.

I know you offered two thousand pounds.

Mr Pope offered the market price - eight thousand pounds.

He overpaid!

I think not. But I don't understand your complaint against him.

Well, er...

I read here that he "bullied and terrified her

"into accepting his offer."

Would you have to be bullied and terrified into taking an offer

that was an increase of four hundred per cent?

I wouldn't.

He still cheated the customs men.

I work with Mr Thomas Cubitt.

He has friends in Manchester.

It was a single incident where the cotton was wrongly labelled.

When Mr Pope discovered the mistake, he paid the duty.

Yeah, so he says.

He says it because it is the truth!

In other words, you gentlemen are liars and jealous cheats

- who profit from frightening old ladies! - Now, just a minute here...

As for you, you pathetic runt!

Charles Pope saw you could no more be a manager

than a Lord High Admiral!

He gave you a job that your children might not starve

and this is how you repay him!

- Now, you listen... - No! You listen!

If I hear one more word of this from any source,

I will bring charges that will strip you of your last penny piece!

And now good day...

gentlemen.

Don't move, but tell me if you've heard from your mama?

Not yet. But she'll be along one of these days with my brother, Reggie,

or... someone else, to drag me away.

Then we shall take hold of the other arm and prevent it.

Lady Templemore is in the drawing room, m'lady.

Talk of the devil.

Lady Templemore, may I offer you anything?

Only my daughter.

Here I am, Mama.

I've come to take you home.

No, Mama.

- My dear... - No.

Mama, I am... I am not coming home. Not yet, at any rate.

So you defy me?

I would not call it that.

But what will people think?

That I'm staying with the aunt of my fiance,

and soon, however, we will announce the marriage will not take place

and that I shall marry a Mr Charles Pope instead.

This will be fascinating until there is news

that the Queen is with child or some great man in the City fails,

and then we shall all just get on with our lives.

You've done this. You have corrupted my daughter.

I do hope so, if this is the result.

Mama, let us not be at odds, like ruffians fighting in the street.

I should prefer to be attacked by ruffians than by my own child.

Corinne, Charles Pope is our grandson...

...Peregrine's and mine.

You mean...

...he is your late son's bastard.

I suppose you knew?

And for this you have cheated Maria of a position

that would have allowed her to do real good in the world?

I think I could do good if I were married to Charles.

Then you must manage it without your mother's help, my dear,

for I will have no more of you.

I set you adrift to sail your own barque.

You...

have stolen my daughter and ruined my life.

What on Earth are you doing here? Why have you come?

Well, I'm not going to tell you on the street.

Hm.

I've seen a doctor and I am pregnant.

Three months or more.

Right, will you take care of it? Or has he done so already?

Have you no feelings at all?

Why would I have feelings?

Because you are the father.

Oh, for... What proof is there?

You fell into bed with me easily enough!

What's the matter, John?

What, do you care?

Of course.

Tell me what's wrong.

Only that I've lost everything.

It can't be as bad as all that.

Can't it? I have nothing. I am nothing. I will always be nothing.

What has happened?

I will not be the next Earl of Brockenhurst.

Charles Pope is the heir - my nemesis.

It seems he is the grandson of my uncle and aunt.

- You said he was Mr Trenchard's son. - That's what I thought, but he's not.

He's my cousin Edmund's son.

I have tried to defeat him. Now he has the better of me.

If this is true, why isn't he called Viscount Bellasis?

He is. He just doesn't know it yet.

Nor do they. They think he's a bastard.

A friend of mine looked into it.

My cousin and Sophia Trenchard were married, just before Waterloo.

I'm impressed you haven't burned them, if they don't know yet.

Well, don't be. They're copies. The Trenchards have the originals.

But without your friend's evidence...

They'll find out the truth in the end. They're bound to.

Why...

Why shouldn't we marry?

You're only the son of a younger son, after all. It's not so much.

Don't you understand? I need to make a brilliant marriage.

Now more than ever.

Not Maria Grey with her downcast looks and that empty purse.

A brilliant marriage.

I'll divorce Oliver and go to my father.

He's rich and I'm an only child.

There may be better-bred women on offer,

but none who could provide so well.

Do you seriously imagine that I, John Bellasis,

whose ancestors fought in the Crusades,

would ever marry the divorced daughter-in-law

of a dirty tradesman?

What a joke!

I wonder if you would ask your man if he could find me a Hackney cab?

Oh, hail one yourself!

Please, John. There is no need for us to part badly.

Very well.

No!

You're back.

As you see. Do you know where I might find your mother?

She wanted a rest before dinner.

Did you give those men money? In Manchester, to write the letters?

No need. They wanted him destroyed as much as I.

Why? Why would you want to ruin a man who's done nothing to you?

He has stolen my father and is in the process of stealing my fortune.

Is that nothing? To watch you give him money and praise without stint.

Is that nothing?

I believe in him.

But by God, you don't believe in me, sir. And you never have!

I've endangered my friendship with the Cubitts,

men I respect more than anyone living, to help your career!

May I not be disappointed?

I'm sorry, Father, but I cannot change places with Sophia.

I can't place myself in the grave and set her free.

It is out of my hands!

I don't know what to do next.

Well, I do, ma'am.

Tell Mr Trenchard you were given these in the street.

He does not know my writing.

He will not suspect.

I won't ask for your secrecy. You already have enough to hang me.

Hello.

How can I help?

Thank you, Myles. That'll be all.

This was handed to me on the street as I came towards our front door.

Handed to you by whom?

I don't know, a boy, he ran off.

Well, this boy, was he a servant, a page?

I don't know. He was just a boy.

I must go and see Mrs Trenchard.

There is something else I want you to know.

I'm going to have a child.

Oh, my dear.

Are you certain?

Quite.

But you must go to Mother.

May I tell her?

- Of course. - Come...

Mr Trenchard?

Hah. A happy chance brings us here.

John Bellasis. We met at my aunt's soiree.

Yes, I know who you are. What are you doing in this stinking hole?

Well, I use it to meet people and, erm... well, now I've met you.