Season 1 | Death Comes to Pemberley e1

(thunder) (woman wailing) Tonight, we are reunited with the stars of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice: the infinitely charming Mr. Darcy and his luminous wife, the former Elizabeth Bennet.

They live in wealth and contentment at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy's grand estate, surrounded by servants, friends, comfort, tradition... and murder.

Pemberley, reimagined by the great crime writer P.D.

James.

(whispering): Be careful.

There are bodies in the woods.

(birds chirping) Where are the boys then, Joany?

(sighing): I don't know.

This was definitely the place.

Maybe they were having us on?

They'll be around here somewhere.

Oh, come on, Joan, let's go back!

What if we're caught?

Come on, don't be such a baby!

I'll wait here for you!

(birds cawing) (screaming) (screaming) (giggling) MRS. DONOVAN: Master Fitzwilliam!

Come back, Master Fitzwilliam!

Master Fitzwilliam, will you... Master Fitzwilliam!

Oh, I am going to be in so much trouble for this.

(giggles) Mama!

I am sorry, madame.

Master Fitzwilliam just slipped away.

And you so busy with the ball.

It's no trouble at all.

BIDWELL: Main dining room, quickly.

Yes, sir.

Bidwell, you'll have time for the silver?

It will be polished to perfection, madame, down to the last fork.

And the fires in the bedrooms, Mrs. Reynolds?

Yes, they're being prepared as we speak.

How many guests do we have staying?

MRS. REYNOLDS: Well, we shall have need of all our rooms.

The six-hour candles, madame, all of them the best wax.

Yes, the chaperones' chairs.

Yes, we ran short last year, Mrs. Reynolds.

I've ordered extra, madame.

Serve the brandy slowly, Stoughton.

We don't want the good ladies unable to walk to their carriages at the end of the evening.

Our bedrooms are all spoken for.

(indistinct chatter) (shushing) (clapping) Madame, the food for tomorrow night.

We have white soup.

(sniffs) Oh, delicious.

Wild goose.

There will be some orange sauce prepared to go with that.

Game pies, almond faggots, mille feuille.

Spice biscuits.

Prince of Wales biscuits, Duke of Clarence biscuits and Duchess of York biscuits.

(door opens) (panting): Mrs. Reilly's ghost!

In the woods!

What on earth?

JOAN: I saw her, Ma'am!

Mrs. Reilly's ghost.

Vicious-looking, she was!

As real as you standing there!

What utter nonsense!

What will Mrs. Darcy think of you pair?

Edith, can you take these two into the pantry?

Give them a thimbleful of brandy each.

I'll deal with you in a minute.

(sobbing) I must apologize, madame.

They're very silly girls.

Who's Mrs. Reilly?

It's an old wives' tale, Madame.

Well, I'm sure a dose of your good sense will do the trick, Mrs. Reynolds.

Well done.

Thank you all.

May I?

Of course, madame.

Thank you.

ELIZABETH: Georgiana.

You're expecting someone?

No... Not really.

(glass breaks) DARCY: Dear God!

How can a man think with such a racket going on?!

Could you please ask them to stop?

That wouldn't be helpful, Fitzwilliam dearest.

It is a fine Pemberley tradition for the master of the house to be irritable on the eve of the ball.

And for the lady to do everything in her power to assuage him?

Quite.

Perhaps some traditions need updating.

They've worked perfectly well so far.

How dreary, all good things must come to an end.

Really?

(laughs) Shall I disappear from your sight?

A few hours would be perfect.

Sister... Mr. Darcy.

Yes?

Not a moment longer.

I shouldn't bear it.

You are only human.

(laughing) Master Fitzwilliam!

I shall take the little imp with me.

Yar!

♫A hunting we will go♫ ♫A hunting we will go!♫ (laughing) At least let me saddle the horses for you, sir.

I'm sure Wilkinson can manage.

Sir.

Although you did have a fall last week, sir.

Yes, that wasn't his fault.

Look, you've trained him incredibly well, Bidwell.

But it is time to hand over the reins, as it were.

I would've preferred my own son for the job.

Yes, yes, I know.

A Bidwell's always been head coachman at Pemberley.

But the good Lord hasn't seen fit.

How is Will?

Mrs. Darcy's planning on visiting the cottage later to see him.

However in the meantime, she does have a great need of you today.

Sir.

You're a good man, Bidwell.

Now then.

Foxes the length and breadth of Derbyshire will be quaking in their dens at the mere sight of you on this little fellow.

GEORGIANA: No one's ever spoken to my brother as freely as you do.

You've brought such laughter to Pemberley, Elizabeth.

I want that kind of ease for myself.

Do you have someone in mind?

I'd never marry without my brother's approval, especially after... Darcy wants only for your happiness, Georgiana.

We both do.

Even if my choice were a surprising one?

Ah, Colonel Fitzwilliam.

He's early.

Were you expecting someone else?

No, no one.

I should go and greet my cousin.

GEORGIANA: I believe so.

You must be looking forward to the ball.

Yes, yes, we all are.

I'm not much of a man for dancing.

Sorry, you scared me.

I'm sorry.

I wanted to catch you alone.

Could you spare me a moment?

Of course.

You came through the woods, Colonel?

Uh... no, no.

I came the usual way.

It's about Georgiana.

With your keen powers of observation, you will have noticed my newfound appreciation of her.

With the death of my older brother and the duties and responsibilities that being the first son brings... And the freedom.

Of course.

My mind has most naturally turned to marriage.

And as I'm to return to the army soon... Well, has she spoken to you about me?

She always speaks of you in terms of affection.

Of course, but I imagine you to be her main confidante.

Only when she has something to confide.

I admit she has given me no specific grounds for hope.

But I have known her since she was born, and perhaps for a woman, it is proper that love should come after marriage, rather than before it.

I'm not sure about that.

I take it that George Wickham is never received at Pemberley?

Of course not.

Goodness, I'm surprised you should even ask.

So his attempted seduction of Georgiana has remained secret.

We can hardly bear to think of it, let alone mention his name.

Of course, forgive me.

I shouldn't have mentioned it, Elizabeth.

Have you spoken of your feelings to Georgiana yet?

No, no, I wanted to speak to you first.

And ask Darcy's permission, of course.

Georgiana's old enough to make her own decision, Colonel!

If Georgiana were to agree to marry you, then naturally I would fully share my husband's pleasure at the news.

Perhaps it is best to wait until after the ball.

Of course.

Thank you.

Don't wait for me, I'll walk back.

(humming) Morning, Mrs. Bidwell.

MRS. BIDWELL: Madame.

Louisa's just back from helping my eldest in Birmingham, madame.

Madame.

Sit down.

She's brought the new baby home with her for a while to give Sarah some respite.

What's his name?

Georgie.

I'm sure she appreciates the help, though she must miss him terribly.

We can't keep him much longer.

Will frets ever so when he cries.

How is Will?

He has good days and bad days.

Will?

Hello-- don't get up.

I just wanted to see how you're getting along with those books.

Robinson Crusoe was my favorite.

Yes, I thought it might be.

You shouldn't have troubled yourself, ma'am, not on the eve of the ball.

Oh, Mrs. Reynolds has it all under control.

Tell her to not bring the ice in too early.

(laughing): She did that one year and there was water everywhere.

You can tell her yourself next year.

You don't believe that, though.

William!

Will... For all my fine clothes... there's nothing I can do about what's happening to you now.

But I offer you what I can, which is my friendship.

(birds chirping) Wait!

(hisses) DARCY: You're sure you're all right?

I'm fine.

But this madwoman could've attacked you.

No, no, she was frightened, I'm sure of it.

I'm fine.

Mr. Alveston, such a pleasure to see you!

Well, thank you for the invitation.

I hope you don't mind my coming early.

I thought I'd accompany Mr. and Mrs. Bennet.

What news from Highmarten?

How's Jane and Bingley?

They're well and send their regards.

Miss Georgiana.

Henry.

Mr. Alveston.

(whispering): Thank you for your letter.

And you yours.

MRS. BENNET: You should have brought the special pillow.

Oh, what a dreadful road you have, Lizzy.

It's riddled with potholes.

Mother, I had no idea.

I'm in pieces.

Don't fret, Lizzy.

Father.

I think you'll find the road surface miraculously smoothed itself out as soon as our carriage was past.

You do vex me, Mr. Bennet.

Oh, isn't it big!

I always forget.

DARCY: Welcome back to Pemberley, madame.

I would've come sooner, but I've had social engagements to attend to.

Longbourn's quite a whirlwind in its own right, you know.

DENNY: I was told to give you this, but that's the last favor I'm doing for you, Wickham!

I want no part in this!

Denny, please-- this one last thing and I promise I'll be done with it!

I'm not playing this game!

It's been deceit from start to finish with you.

You're selfish, utterly selfish.

You know nothing, do you, of women or how they truly feel.

Keep your voice down.

Lydia.

(bell chiming) MRS. BENNET: The apothecary, you see, agreed with me.

Did he not, Lizzy?

The fig is quite the best thing.

Wonderful, shall we?

Where is Mr. Bennet when I need him?

He was here a minute ago.

Mr. Bennet?

Mr. Bennet?

May I speak to you in private?

MRS. BENNET (distant): Mr. Bennet?

Unless there's someone who has a greater claim?

No!

No, I'd like that very much.

Later, perhaps.

Of course.

MRS. BENNET (distant): Mr. Bennet!

Mr. Bennet!

(distant): Mr. Bennet?

(birds chirping) (sighs) What have you found?

I have found these rather austere pictures of this castle.

I suddenly realized I think it belongs to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Shall I ask him?

Why not?

Colonel!

Isn't this your castle?

It is.

ALVESTON: Is that the North Sea?

FITZWILLIAM: Indeed, in rough weather the waves have been known to touch the castle walls.

It must be cold in winter.

We have no complaints.

Or rather, only from the occasional soft Londoner too used to skulking in a corridor or office.

But the atmosphere can get chilly in the Old Bailey too, sometimes.

I hear you're something of a radical down there.

I like to think there's always room for improvement.

We've seen what sudden shake-ups can lead to over the water, haven't we, Darcy?

Yes, terrible business, but I'm sure... Barbarity, no less.

And now Bonaparte's threatening our shores.

I'm no supporter of tyranny, sir, in any shape or form.

Mrs. Darcy, would you excuse me if I went for an evening ride?

At this hour, Colonel?

I sleep ill without fresh air.

Good night.

Good night.

Good ride, Colonel!

Although it will be getting dark soon.

I certainly don't envy you the ride back.

How fortunate then that you're not required to come too.

Shall we?

Let's.

DENNY: Driver, stop!

Whoa, whoa!

Stop the carriage!

You're on your own, Wickham.

I'm finished with it.

Denny!

Don't be a bloody fool!

LYDIA: Wickham?

Wickham, come back here this instant!

Wickham, don't just leave me here on my own!

Lizzy!

A portrait of dear Wickham.

It was in a little cupboard in our room.

The lock was very feeble, you know.

One tug and it quite gave.

But you're a dark horse, Darcy.

Why a picture of him?

His father was my father's steward.

We grew up together.

It was my father who had the portrait done.

I forgot we even had it.

So handsome, isn't he?

He's married to Lydia, my youngest.

Perhaps you know the name?

No, I'm afraid not.

He's quite a national hero since he fought the French in Ireland.

Music!

We should have music.

Georgiana, delight us with your lovely playing.

If Mr. Alveston will accompany me?

Oh, please don't make me sing.

Why don't I help you choose a dance?

Somewhere inside, I'm still a young girl in love with a redcoat.

Such a shame they're not invited to the ball, Lizzy.

(sighs) I really don't see the harm, and Lydia does so love a dance!

Please, save me from our guests.

(Georgiana playing) Oh, I can't!

I was the best dancer in the county, you know.

It won't do to outshine the youth at my age.

Georgiana has two suitors vying for her hand.

The Colonel wishes to speak to you.

He'd be a fine match.

She must marry for love, Fitzwilliam.

I wouldn't wish for anything... less.

Good God!

What's that man thinking?

He'll have it over.

(Lydia screaming) Are we expecting anyone else tonight?

No!

Stoughton!

(screams continue) Oh God, help!

Lydia!

Oh God!

What's happened, Lydia, what is it?

Dead!

Dead?

Oh my lord, who's dead?

Sit her down!

I'm trying.

Someone fetch some wine!

Is someone in danger, Lydia?

Lydia!

(sobbing) Wickham is shot, Papa, I know it!

He's dying in the woods!

Please, help him, someone!

You saw this?

I heard it!

Well, don't just stand there, do something!

You must tell us the facts as you know them!

Lydia!

Madame, are you all right?

A spasm in my side.

Strange flutterings.

Don't worry about me!

What happened, Lydia?

We were driving through the woods to Pemberley-- Wickham, Captain Denny and I.

They were both angry with one another.

Captain Denny banged for the coachman to stop and just ran off!

Wickham shouted at him too, and he jumped out also.

How could he do such a thing?

Then...

Shots.

Go!

Go!

Hurry up!

Am I never to get that man out of my life?

I'm sorry.

Go back inside and look after your sister.

It will be fine.

(horse neighing) Do I know you?

George Pratt, sir, coachman at the King's Arms.

Yes, of course.

Did you hear shots fired in the woods?

I did, sir, two of them.

What were you doing there?

The lady was coming to the ball, as I understand it.

"A jolly surprise," she said.

We'll need you to take us back to the place.

Yes, sir.

What's the matter?

You better get down.

DARCY: Bidwell, Alveston.

We need to organize... Lydia, we must try to remain positive, my dear, and hope at least that he died in a duel.

(sobs louder) It's such a noble way to die!

We're mounting a search.

Well, then I'll come with you.

It'll be cold and dark, sir, probably uncomfortable.

Mr. Bennet, come along, you're needed!

Please?

We'll need ropes, lanterns and blankets, a flask of brandy-- Stoughton will help.

Make sure Mr. Darcy's horse is saddled and ready, and gather some men!

Allow me to come too, sir?

You're our guest.

And it would assure me to know you're here with our ladies.

Yes, of course.

(gasps) My trunk!

What is it?

Get it out of the carriage!

My ball gown will be quite creased!

Oh, I do hope it's the cream satin; it'll suit your pallor.

Oh, palpitations!

Do not make me speak.

Mrs. Reynolds.

Fetch Wilkinson and call for Dr. McFee.

Yes, Mr. Darcy.

This is quite an expedition you're mounting for one hysterical woman, Darcy.

Just in case.

Let's hope we're both overreacting.

Lead on!

Whoa, girls.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

(horse neighing) Is this the place?

That's the oak tree on the left.

This is the path they took here.

(shushing) Which way did Captain Denny head?

Over there, sir.

You're on your own, Wickham.

I'm finished with it.

It was just a few seconds and Mr. Wickham followed.

Denny!

Don't be a bloody fool!

We waited, must have been ten minutes and then we heard them-- two gunshots.

(gunshot) (horse neighing) (gunshot) (Lydia screaming) Then the lady started screaming murder.

She didn't stop the whole way to the house.

You men, see that clearing?

Try there.

Yes, sir.

Stay close to the path and stay together.

Wickham!

Wickham!

(horse neighs) Easy, easy, Betty.

(lightly snoring) (whispering): The draught I gave her was enough to sedate a horse.

Not that... We'll have to keep an eye on her.

Thank you, doctor.

Now for the mother.

I'll show you the way.

DARCY: Wickham!

Once again, George Wickham leads us all on a merry dance.

I can only apologize that my daughter Lydia's superlative taste in men has made him your brother and responsibility for life.

Wickham!

I imagine they'll be a while yet.

(thunder roiling) (panting) FITZWILLIAM: Over there!

DARCY:Wickham?

Wickham!

(sobbing): He is dead!

Oh God!

I killed him!

My only friend and I've killed him!

It's my fault!

Wickham, what happened here?

(sobbing): Denny!

He's drunk.

(sobbing): It's my fault.

Over here!

DARCY: It's a pistol.

(sniffs) It's been fired.

(sobbing): Denny!

(rain pouring) (thunder) Whoa, there, whoa, whoa.

Stand by that door and do not open it.

Yes, sir.

Be ready to carry the captain inside.

Sir.

You can tell Lydia her husband is alive, although in no fit state to be seen.

Captain Denny is dead.

Shot?

We don't know yet.

Where do you want the body?

Gunroom.

Stoughton, help the colonel.

Yes, sir.

Step aside.

Dear God... FITZWILLIAM: Ready?

Follow me.

DARCY: Alveston, help me with Wickham.

Of course.

Get up!

(slurring): Unhand me.

I've served his majesty's army.

Darcy, what are we doing here?

I'm taking you inside.

No, we have to go back.

Listen to me, Darcy, you don't understand.

There's a killer out there somewhere!

Get him, damn you!

Before it's too late!

DARCY: Get Dr. McFee.

You are not listening, let go of me!

Damn you!

Are you all right?

Good night, Henry.

Good night.

(sighs) You can go to bed.

Wickham is sedated and asleep.

But if there's any trouble, you can call on Dr. McFee.

He's in the library.

However, I now have to inform Hardcastle.

Hardcastle, why?

He's the nearest magistrate; I'm not allowed to deal with this myself.

Can't it wait until dawn, you're exhausted.

No, we have to be seen to be above suspicion in every possible way.

George Wickham's my brother, in the eyes of the law.

(sighs) At least it's stopped raining.

(sighing): Yes.

You should have some coffee before you go.

Thank you.

Could it have been an accident?

There was a lot of blood.

Do you think Wickham...?

My only concern now is to protect Pemberley and my family.

As for everything else, we have to let justice take its course.

(horse approaching at a gallop) Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, sir.

Sir Selwyn.

Mr. Darcy.

After midnight.

A rare pleasure indeed.

WICKHAM: Do you know Mr. Darcy well?

No, no, but first impressions are not encouraging.

Well, I'm afraid I'm not the man to dissuade you from that view.

I've suffered greatly at Mr. Darcy's hand.

In what way?

We grew up in the same house.

His father had a real affection for me and treated me as one of his own.

When he died, he wanted me provided with a living and Mr. Darcy chose to ignore his wishes, and the living went elsewhere.

Why would he be so unkind?

I can only think it was jealousy.

Of your charm and popularity, I'm sure.

Of his father's affection for me, perhaps.

All of Hertfordshire is disgusted with his arrogance and pride.

(gasps) I can manage this, madame.

Do go and get some rest.

Everything will be all right.

Will it?

The man brings nothing but mischief and misery in his wake.

HARDCASTLE: There's a sad inevitability to the way George Wickham has ended up.

I don't know what you mean.

Come now, you know it was widely thought a strange weakness on your father's part to indulge a steward's boy the way he did.

I don't have to justify my father.

He was a good man.

He saw promise in the boy.

(chuckling): False hopes, Darcy, false hopes.

We raise people above their natural station in life at our peril.

What happened to George Wickham was not inevitable.

He was given opportunities.

He chose to squander them.

Really?

His marriage to your wife's sister has placed him squarely and permanently in your life.

I'd call that a hand well played.

I fail to see the relevance.

Oh, but your position's a most delicate one.

A murder, if murder it is, has been committed on your property, and the person responsible could be none other than a brother of yours.

I'll need a medical man to help me inspect the body.

Yes, Dr. McFee's already with us.

Buckle, fetch Headboro Brownrigg.

Tell him to gather some constables.

Quickly, now.

Yes, sir.

Let's get to work.

Yes, sir.

Mrs. Darcy, I must apologize for the lateness of the hour.

Thank you for coming out.

Our guests are trying to get what rest they can.

Is Captain Denny on the premises?

Yes, we put him in the gunroom-- it seemed the best place.

Quite-- and Wickham is still asleep, I take it?

Yes.

Is he the only suspect?

No one else has been apprehended?

No, although gunshots were heard.

It is possible Denny stumbled across an army deserter or a poacher.

Ah, poachers.

We're on delicate ground there.

Well, perhaps we should prepare some warm water and towels.

And more candles, in case we need them.

Madame?

Yes, of course.

(nervous chuckle): Sorry, it must be the shock.

This way, please, sir.

Headboro Brownrigg and... Constable Mason, sir, madame.

With your permission, Darcy, it may be necessary to conduct a search of the grounds, but first, if I may.

The suspect.

Yes, of course.

Gentlemen.

Mrs. Reynolds?

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, Madame.

It's just that... well, the Hardcastles aren't much liked at Pemberley.

Better fetch everything he asked for.

Minor scratches to the face and hands.

That's probably... brambles?

(grumbles approval) Most of the blood on him will have been Denny's.

Dr. McFee, have your clever medical men found a way of telling one man's blood from another's?

We don't set out to be gods, Sir Selwyn.

Indeed.

Now, if you please, the dead man.

Mason, you wait here.

Sir.

McFEE: This is not the work of a bullet; the wound's too superficial.

He's been hit with something hard.

Possibly round in shape.

Like a cosh.

The effusion of blood would've temporarily blinded him, but it's not the cause of death.

Turn him over.

Good God!

There you have it, gentlemen.

The cause of death.

Did you find him on his back?

Yes, but this is the first time I've seen this.

Something very large and heavy, I'd say, probably blunt edged.

The stock of a shotgun?

No, not big enough.

To do this takes a mighty blow, delivered with vicious force.

So it would appear the assailant hit him first on the forehead, then moved in for the death blow with a heavier second weapon.

Well, if gunfire didn't kill him, who fired the shots?

Denny himself, perhaps, trying to target his attacker?

HARDCASTLE: I know there's been discord between our families, but let me just say how sorry I am for the darkness visited upon Pemberley tonight.

Thank you.

What news?

Perhaps we should spare the ladies.

(sighing): Denny was murdered.

Forgive me, Sir Selwyn, my wife and I have no secrets.

I shall need to interview Wickham as soon as he wakes.

If you could accommodate me until then?

Of course.

An armchair and a fire would suffice.

This way, please, sir.

Thank you.

(birds chirping) What did Hardcastle mean when he referred to poachers?

When I was a boy, a Pemberley lad called Patrick Reilly poached a deer from Hardcastle's father's land.

Poaching's a serious offense, but Reilly was just a boy.

Everyone expected him to be released with a fine and a reprimand.

But Hardcastle Sr. pressed for the ultimate punishment.

I'll never forget the day they hanged him.

Wickham and I were under strict orders not to leave the house.

But we found a way out and found a way there.

Darcy, I know another way.

His mother, naturally, was inconsolable.

A few weeks later, she went into Pemberley woods, and killed herself.

Darcy, I'm so sorry.

And now there's this foolish superstition that her ghost appears in the woods every time misfortune's about to strike.

Mrs. Reilly's ghost.

Yes.

No, no... Two servant girls-- Betsy and Joan-- they ran into the kitchen yesterday saying they'd seen her in the woods.

It's nonsense.

No, no, I know...

If it's the same woman I saw, she was flesh and blood.

Perhaps she had something to do with all this.

(footsteps approaching) Sir!

Madame!

You'd best come to the house!

Why can't I see him?

What's the matter with everyone?

The magistrate needs to speak to him when he wakes.

Magistrate?

What do you mean?

He didn't do anything.

You've always been against him, all of you, it's so unfair!

This is your fault.

If you'd invited us to the ball like any decent sister would instead of forcing us to creep through the forest, none of this would've happened!

Denny would be alive!

ELIZABETH: Lydia, please.

LYDIA: Are they going to hang him?

Oh God!

(sobbing) They just want to question him, that's all.

ELIZABETH: He may be their only witness.

I didn't do this.

So they don't think he did it?

We must try to remain calm, Lydia, and allow them to do their work.

Perhaps you should eat something?

Don't be ridiculous, I couldn't possibly!

And we had to stay at that nasty old inn!

I know why you're so mean with your checks, Lizzie, you're jealous!

Stuck here in your moldy old mansion while we have all the fun!

(sobbing): Oh, Wickham!

We can talk about it all in good time.

Perhaps a little something.

Dr. McFee would recommend it.

He suggested you build up your strength.

I have absolutely no appetite!

(sobs) It felt like an eternity, but it can't have been more than ten minutes.

When I found him...

I could see someone fleeing through the trees, so I... grabbed Denny's pistol and fired.

But he had vanished.

And then?

I realized that he was in a terrible state.

So I reloaded and fired again for help.

But then he was...

He was gone.

Have you found the assailant?

At the present time, our one suspect is yourself.

Why would I kill him?

He was the only real friend that I had!

My God!

I was bringing my wife to a ball!

Tell us about that.

She was angry at not being invited, and I knew that if we arrived late enough, that Darcy would never turn her away.

But when Denny heard my plan, he seemed to find it... repugnant.

DENNY: It's been deceit from start to finish with you.

You're selfish, utterly selfish.

You know nothing, do you, of women... We argued.

We'd both been drinking.

(voice breaking): I was angrier than I should've been.

Then he stormed off.

That's it, that's what happened!

He must've come across someone in the woods!

There is a murderer out there somewhere!

And you!

You're wasting time!

(sobbing) Georgiana... You must've hardly slept.

I'm so sorry you had to see Wickham.

It must've brought back terrible memories.

I was never actually in love with him.

It was a childish... attraction.

And loneliness, perhaps.

He certainly never loved me.

I always knew it was the money he was interested in.

I never would have eloped with him though, you do believe that?

Of course.

It's just...

I'm not so sure that my brother does.

Every time I try and talk to him about it, I can see how uncomfortable he becomes.

It's a difficult subject, that's all.

He must be horrified at how close I came.

No!

I'm horrified.

His anger is entirely for Wickham.

You were only 15, Georgiana.

I myself know how... (chuckles) How convincing he can be.

Let's all of us hope he'll be out of our lives again soon.

Hardcastle will want alibis from everyone.

We were all together last night, of course, except for you, Colonel, and your nighttime excursion.

I'm sure you'll be able to offer him a full explanation as to where you went.

I will.

No doubt you have access to the best lawyers, sir, but if I can be of any help.

What's your immediate advice?

Given that you both know him, it might be useful to discuss Wickham's character.

Do you think him capable of such a crime?

In the past, I have known him to be envious, deceitful, ungrateful.

But violent?

No.

I understand he fought with you in the Irish campaign of '98?

He did, and bravely.

Part of the charge on French lines.

It was bloody work.

I imagine such fighting could corrupt even the most peace-loving of men.

There is nothing corrupt about serving your King and Country, you fool.

What about his defense?

Well, there's no motive as yet.

One thing I can't quite fathom is why Denny ran off deep into the wood.

Why not just head back on the road?

It's odd.

"He's dead, Denny's dead.

I killed him, it's my fault."

You want to know what he said?

He said, "He's dead, my best friend's dead, and it's my fault I killed him."

Something like that.

"I killed him!

"My only friend and I killed him.

It's my fault!"

You're sure?

Yes, but I am convinced it was his guilt speaking.

He felt responsible purely because of their argument.

Thank you.

I believe we have our man.

Did you find a murder weapon?

No.

Well, then what proof?

Firstly, a confession.

I'm a simple man, Darcy; I don't go searching for complications where there are none.

When confronted with the misdeed, Wickham confessed.

We have three witnesses to the fact.

His denials in the cold light of day are entirely to be expected.

Secondly, this.

30 pounds found in the rim of Wickham's hat, stuffed in a corner of the carriage.

If this money proves to be Denny's, we have a motive.

Wickham may be many things; he is no common thief!

I'm taking him into custody and charging him with the crime.

There'll be an inquest, and probably a trial.

Prepare yourself, Darcy.

If he's found guilty, you know the outcome.

LYDIA (in distance): They're taking him away!

Wickham?

What's happening?

Where are they taking him?

Wickham!

Wickham!

Please, let go of him, please!

Lydia!

Please, let go of him!

You said they just wanted to question him.

Please!

Please, let go of him!

Let go of him!

Have a seat.

Get off!

Wickham, please!

Let go of him!

Wickham, please!

You must come away.

Drive on!

(Lydia sobbing) Don't take him!

Don't take him, no!

Darcy... ♫♫ (keys jangling) God, what a mess!

How could you let this happen?

I haven't done anything wrong.

Anyway, I'm the one who's stuck here in this stinking jail cell.

Oh, keep your mouth shut, Wickham.

The less you say about any of this, the better.

Better for me?

Or better for you?

Are you threatening me, sir?

I was merely pointing out that we depend on one another rather more than we did yesterday.

I'll remind you of who I am.

Thank Darcy for his generosity to my jailers, but he'll need to dig a little deeper, though.

I want a better room.

This is more than you deserve.

Darcy was always so mean with his wealth.

Mean?!

Do you realize what is at stake here?

Darcy could lose his good name over this scandal, and who knows what the repercussions at Pemberley could be, or for the hundreds of souls who depend on it!

And all because of you!

I didn't realize how important I am.

How wonderful of you to let me...

I could...

Kill me?

We both have reasons to keep quiet, don't we, Colonel, eh?

In the meantime, you and Darcy will do all you can to get me out of here.

Oh, and order me some proper food, would you?

None of this muck!

(chatter) (shushing) Thank you, everyone, for gathering so promptly.

It is my sad duty to inform you all that death came to Pemberley last night.

The victim, one Captain Denny, has been removed from the premises.

He was not known at Pemberley and our deepest condolences are now with his family and friends.

If any of you have any information, please do come forward.

Sir Selwyn Hardcastle, who may be familiar to some of you, will be interviewing you all individually today.

No one is suspected.

So please answer his questions as simply and honestly as possible.

That's all.

We would like to thank you all for the many hours you've spent preparing for the Lady Anne ball.

It is the great regret of Mr. Darcy and myself that it should be in vain for so tragic a reason.

We rely, as always, on mutual support and devotion.

It is the heart of our lives here at Pemberley.

Have no fear for your safety or for the future.

Pemberley has weathered many a storm in its long history, and this one, too, will pass.

Thank you.

Back to work.

SERVANT: Did you hear that?

BIDWELL: You heard Mrs. Reynolds, back to work.

Did you see him?

Well?

The man is an ungrateful wretch.

No news there.

Darcy.

I know this situation entails difficulties for you which few can understand.

If there is any way in which I can help...

Thank you, cousin.

Won't be necessary.

(chatter and music) (woman laughing) WOMAN: Have you met the new Mrs. Darcy?

No, but I'm told she has fine eyes.

WOMAN: They must be fine, indeed.

I hear her father's estate is worth barely 2,000 a year.

WOMAN: Goodness!

MAN: There's worse.

The younger sister's married George Wickham.

Scandal!

And in circumstances best not mentioned.

(gasps) I wonder if Darcy's regretting his choice of bride.

(guests laughing) (clock chimes) I must send out a letter to our guests canceling this evening.

No doubt it will make many a day.

Oh, everyone will be so disappointed.

There's only one thing people like more than a good dance.

It's a good scandal.

DARCY: There's no scandal here.

Everything we do now has to send out a signal that life at Pemberley carries on as it always has.

Yes, of course.

Well, I can do something.

I need to help.

I hardly think... Perhaps Georgiana and I can do this together.

GEORGIANA: Yes, and if Henry delivers the letters, then people will be far less likely to ask awkward questions.

FITZWILLIAM: Henry might be an appropriate errand boy, but I hardly think Georgiana is.

I think she should leave Pemberley immediately and put as must distance as possible between herself and this affair.

Yes, the colonel's right, you should be away.

I shall write Lady Catherine and suggest she go to Rosings.

I don't want to go to Rosings.

I know it's not her favorite place but I'm sure we can all see the propriety...

Surely Miss Georgiana can speak for herself.

You don't have to be a disciple of Miss Wollstonecraft to believe that women should have a voice... Oh, for God's sake, save the diatribe for the Old Bailey.

DARCY: Gentlemen, please.

We must try to temper ourselves.

GEORGIANA: Please don't send me away.

My place is here with you and Elizabeth and little Fitzwilliam.

To support you all in a time of crisis.

Surely there's no wrong in that.

If you feel that strongly, then yes, of course you must stay.

I apologize, sir.

I spoke out of turn.

DARCY: Make your apologies to the colonel, not to me.

Please excuse me.

I should be glad of your help.

DARCY: Sir Selwyn, some breakfast?

No time, I shall need to interview everyone today.

Your guests, too, I'm afraid.

Is that really necessary?

We were all together last night.

Except for Colonel Fitzwilliam, whom I hear took it into his head to go out alone.

Colonel Fitzwilliam is my cousin.

I've known him since I was a boy.

Then he's told you where he went.

I don't need to know.

A solitary excursion so late in the evening.

It's strange, you'll admit.

Stranger still is the way the victim behaved.

We know from the driver that they were in the darkest part of the woodland when the coach was ordered to stop.

Wickham's plan to trespass the ball was ill-mannered, to be sure, but for Denny to be so provoked that he'd abandon the safety of the carriage and plunge into woods he was unfamiliar with...

It doesn't make sense.

I saw him burn the letter.

I'm sure there's a logical reason why.

Yes, but he made sure no one was looking, Darcy.

Look, everything about the colonel suggested... What?

Where did he go on that ride?

Elizabeth.

I know, I know, I'm sure it will all be explained.

It's just...

I should get on.

(softly, to herself): Of course.

(Mr. Bennet clears his throat) I didn't know whether to declare myself.

I wish Wickham would decide on his character and stick with it.

I've never known such a fickle young man.

First we had the simpering suitor, followed quickly by rascal-at-large.

Then war hero, and hot on its heels, the ne'er-do-well who can't hold down a job.

But murderer?

Really.

Role of a lifetime.

I sent word to your sister.

She'll soon be with us.

I'll be so glad to have Jane here.

Look at all these civilizing books, Lizzy.

These solid walls.

That's what I draw comfort from.

ELIZABETH: There's no need to be nervous.

I just want you to describe the woman you saw in the woods.

She looked like a soul in hell, ma'am.

Can you remember what she was wearing, her hair color, anything of that nature?

Just the look in her eyes.

Enough to stop sleep.

I really think, Mrs. Darcy...

Please.

Do you remember anything, anything at all?

She did have a bonnet.

A big one, with ribbons on it.

Green and purple, I think.

Which is odd, really, for a ghost.

How nice, a colorful ghost for a change.

It was Mrs. Reilly, sir, I know it.

Well, if it was Mrs. Reilly, her timing's good.

Isn't she supposed to appear before a misfortune of some nature?

Please.

I do believe this was a real woman, Sir Selwyn.

There's no need to protect my feelings, Mrs. Darcy.

I'm well aware of the superstition and its origins in my own father's behavior.

No.

I saw her myself in the woods that day.

In fact, she had lost her bonnet and had returned to retrieve it.

I saw what was done to Denny.

Believe me, this was no woman's crime.

(indistinct conversation) STOUGHTON: Your sister, Mrs. Bingley, Madam.

Jane!

How are you, Lizzy?

Oh, all the better for seeing you.

It must have been a terrible night for you all.

We are well, apart from poor Lydia.

I do worry for Georgiana.

Is Alveston still here?

Barely leaves her side.

Jane, I had no idea.

Did Lizzy not tell you I'd arrived?

No, I was just looking for her.

LYDIA: Lizzy's always been jealous of me, you know.

Everyone knows she wanted Wickham for herself but luckily, he preferred me.

Not that she'd ever have accepted him.

He wasn't rich enough.

Underneath all her airs and graces, money's always been her prime concern.

Why do you think she married Darcy?

JANE: Lydia, please!

LYDIA: Jane, you're here!

Oh.

(giggling) Darcy!

There you are.

FITZWILLIAM: Forgive me for requesting this meeting.

Thank you for sparing the time.

Please.

I realize that I owe an explanation for my movements last night.

It is unlike me to be anything other than straightforward and so I apologize for that.

I had a meeting with a certain lady.

Her name is irrelevant.

I don't have much time... She had asked for my help in a most delicate matter concerning her brother, who served as an officer in my regiment.

I kept silent purely to protect her reputation knowing that it had nothing to do with the unfortunate events taking place here.

We met at the Green Man Inn, Sir Selwyn, if you wish to ask them to confirm the truth of what I say.

HARDCASTLE: I already know that you were there, Colonel.

Your lady acquaintance made quite an impression with the amount she spent.

They were sorry to see her go.

Ask me anything you wish to know.

Your word of honor is enough.

Oh, there is something else.

I gave Wickham the 30 pounds you found.

He wrote to me recently requesting financial assistance.

I knew you would disapprove, Darcy, but my godson, Robert, fought with Wickham and myself in the Irish campaign, and Wickham was with him when he fell.

He risked his own life to bring Robert home so his mother could say her farewells.

For this act of bravery alone, I felt indebted to him.

Good.

Good.

Now that we've disproved Wickham's motive, surely this indicates he's innocent.

Innocence and guilt are complex notions, Darcy.

In any case, the jury at the inquest will decide.

(church bells ringing) Morning.

Good morning, children.

MALE PARISHIONER: Agnes, Agnes!

The Darcys are arriving.

Come inside!

Don't keep the Lord waiting!

Morning.

Good morning.

DARCY: Is it?

MALE PARISHIONER: That's Lydia, Wickham's wife.

(parishioners mumbling) (gasping) No, no, I must carry on.

I insist.

FEMALE PARISHIONER: Poor dear.

This is intolerable.

(clears his throat) If I were a vain man, I'd be tempted to credit last week's sermon on the conversion of St. Paul for this astonishing and most gratifying turnout today.

But no.

Knowing you all as I do, I feel sure it's the call of the Lord alone that has brought you rushing from your homes with such eagerness.

I'm humbled, my friends, at this show of piety.

And I look forward... no, I insist that this should be the first of many such Sundays to come!

I don't think he's heard.

RECTOR: Let us pray.

We will have to remove Lydia from Pemberley as soon as we can.

I'll take her to Highmarten with me in the morning.

I'll bring Mrs. Bennet, if you're sure Bingley can stand it.

Of course.

We shall have our work cut out for us, ensuring mother and daughter do no further damage.

An audience limited to the local squirrels and rabbits will have to suffice.

Lydia.

Yes?

Lydia, why don't you come with me to Highmarten in the morning?

Lizzy, my dear.

Georgiana.

Circumstances make it hard to talk of one's own happiness.

Yes, I know, it doesn't seem right.

Still, I...

I can't leave without at least expressing something to you of my hope, of my love.

Is there any chance that you might...

Yes.

But we must wait.

Of course.

For now, all thoughts must be for Darcy and Elizabeth.

Yes, of course.

We won't be long.

I fear poor Will won't be up to much.

Well, then I'll wait here.

(laughing) Is Louisa still caring for her sister's baby?

I believe so.

There must be someone in.

ELIZABETH: Mrs. Bidwell.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

Thank you.

ELIZABETH: Mrs. Bidwell, Mr. Darcy and I would like to suggest that you come and stay at Pemberley for a time.

Dr. McFee would be on hand for Will.

That would take the pressure from you.

You must have had a terrible fright out here on your own the other night.

We're not frightened.

Of course it was terrible what happened, but it was a poacher caught unawares, we're sure of it.

He'd have no quarrel with us.

And... Will wouldn't be happy away from the cottage.

Whatever you think best.

Please, don't upset yourself.

I'll make sure Mr. Bidwell is relieved of some of his duties.

No, you're very kind, but really.

Mr. Bidwell's much happier staying busy.

I have a book for Will.

He was sick all morning and now he's fast asleep.

I'll call Louisa so you can see Sarah's baby.

Louisa!

Madam.

What a lovely little boy!

(chuckling) Oh, you must miss your mummy.

Well, that was peculiar.

Poor things.

It's hardly surprising.

And the baby.

Such a sweet little thing.

I saw Louisa nursing him, Jane.

The baby's hers?

ELIZABETH: Where's Darcy?

You wait in the carriage.

I'll go and find him.

Darcy?

I didn't expect youso soon.

What are you doing here?

Nothing.

A Darcy, buried out here in the woods?

Who was he?

A discredit.

I didn't intend you should see that.

Come.

GEORGIANA: Did Darcy not tell you himself?

ELIZABETH: He didn't wish to discuss it.

GEORGIANA: I haven't been there since childhood.

Georgiana, please, tell me.

The grave is of our great-grandfather.

He brought great shame on the family.

He was a gambler, he made reckless investments.

Pemberley was nearly lost because of him.

He built the cottage in the woodland and retreated there to live as a hermit.

Why don't I know any of this?

He shot himself, Elizabeth.

It's never discussed, ever.

Our father took us to the grave just once when we were children.

I still remember his words.

"Here lies the man who put personal inclination "before public duty.

And nearly ruined us all."

Father was still having to sell land as a result of his behavior.

That's how long it took to secure Pemberley again.

DARCY: Do you spare any thought of the distress you've caused with this elopement?

Your parents and sisters are distraught.

Oh, not you as well.

Doesn't anybody have a sense of fun?

I've had enough of sermons.

I'll leave him to you, dear.

Good luck.

(door closes) Well?

Well, what?

Do you intend to marry her?

Well, the trouble is, she comes with next to nothing to her name.

Do you realize what will happen to her if you don't?

Her life will be ruined.

Oh, come now, Darcy.

You know as well as I do that a man of my... station has to think a little of his own advantage.

How much of an advantage would be required for you to do what's honorable?

That much.

PRISONER: Be kind, Your Lordship, spare us a penny!

Get back in there!

(spits) (door opens) Darcy.

Such brotherly concern.

Or is it being seen to be kind that brings you?

No matter, I can't be cross.

Even with you.

I'm glad to see that prison agrees with you.

It may prove to be an advantage.

What, do you think I'll be acquitted?

I pray for that hourly.

And so, you'll be free to leave Pemberley and never return.

Of course.

Since I trust the good sense of my jurors and fellow countrymen, the outcome will doubtless be as we both desire.

Look, to prove how confident I am, my memoirs.

An account of the Irish campaign and of the injustice of my current imprisonment.

Do you think it will sell?

I certainly hope so, if it affords you an honest living.

I was thinking of a likeness of myself on the fly cover... for the ladies.

Perhaps you could recommend an artist.

As for the subject of leaving, I'd be only too happy to oblige, but I'm not sure.

Setting up a home, keeping a wife... does cost money.

Lydia visited here yesterday.

All she did was cry and wail until I had to throw her out.

If I'd chosen freely, I might have settled for a less... demanding spouse.

Mrs. Wickham and yourself may rely on my support if and when you're released.

Do you remember poor Patrick Reilly?

Better not to.

I can't help it.

I keep seeing him.

I didn't do it, you know.

That was one of the things I came to ask.

I have done some stupid things in my life, but... not this.

Not this.

I believe you.

Next time on Masterpiece Mystery!...

You stand indicted for murder.

How say you, George Wickham?

Not guilty, Your Honor.

LADY CATHERINE: Darcy must have nothing further to do with this sordid trial.

Lydia, Wickham has done something rather foolish.

No, don't!

I'm so sorry.

"Death Comes to Pemberley," next time on Masterpiece Mystery!

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