(Series 3, ep.5) Well I didn’t expect that. In Game of Thrones, yes – major characters fall by the wayside fairly regularly. But not in lovely, cosy, prettily-dressed Downton Abbey. But it’s true – the pretty dresses have been carefully folded away now and the mourning clothes are well and truly on.
In case you haven’t seen it yet, stop reading now, because I’m about to go spoilering.
(Series 3, Ep.4) This week’s history lesson was provided by Lady Edith, who informed us that women were still not properly entitled to vote – at least, not unless they were over 30 and/or a householder. That was the gist, anyway, and Lady Edith thought it was dashed unfair and she was going to write to The Times about it. Everyone went pale. A lady, writing to The Times? “They’ll never print it,” pronounced her father, confidently. As we saw from the preview of next week’s episode, he’s wrong about that, as he is about so many things, bless him.
It must be hard for him to discover he’s reared a set of militants, what with Lady Sybil spending most of the episode on the run from Irish officials who weren’t best pleased at Tom’s involvement with the burning of the homes of Irish aristocrats. It didn’t go down awfully well with the family at Downton, either: “They’re people like us!” But even worse was Tom leaving the pregnant Sybil behind to make her own way back home. She seemed to manage it fairly easily, but all the same that’s enough adventure for one pregnancy and now it’s been decided that she must stay at Downton till the baby is delivered. Continue reading
(Series 3, Ep.1) Just how gorgeous was last night’s Downton Abbey? When it was over I felt like I’d just spent the last 90 minutes snarfing the best part of a box of choccies and a nice fat glass of wine. It was just sumptuous.
Opening on the eve of the wedding of Lady Mary and Matthew Crawley, everyone was agog wondering whether Lady Sybil and the former chauffeur would be attending the wedding and, thanks to a financial intervention from the Dowager Countess, they did. And there was much horror when it was discovered that Branson (though now he’s upstairs we must call him Tom) didn’t own a proper dinner jacket. Or any dinner jacket. There was also much mayhem when an unscrupulous male relative spiked Tom’s drink, which had the effect of making him even more rampantly Republican than usual. The blushes of the family were saved by a timely intervention from Matthew, who is far more than a pretty face. He’s diplomatic, loyal, honest and sensitive, which doesn’t sound all that exciting when listed out like that, but he’s a fitting match for the goddess-like Mary. Continue reading