— Then there's no answer.
— Yes, there is, and it's a simple one. The entail must be smashed in its entirety and Mary recognised as heiress of all.
— There's nothing we can do about the title.
— No. She can't have the title, but she can have your money. And the estate. I didn't run Downtown for 30 years to see it go lock, stock and barrel to a stranger from God knows where.
— And are we to do all this without telling Papa? Isn't that rather underhand?
— There can be too much truth in any relationship.
— I was only going to say that Sybil is entitled to her opinions.
— No, she isn't until she is married, then her husband will tell her what her opinions are.
Lord Merton: — Who were those men measuring on the green as we came past?
Lady Mary Talbot: — They're building the dais for the queen at the parade.
Lord Merton: — Oh, how exciting.
Lady Isobel Merton: — Seems rather a waste of money.
Violet Crawley: — Oh, here we go.
Cora Crawley: — Isn't that what the monarchy's for? To brighten the lives of the nation with stateliness and glamour?
— Robert, dear, I don't mean to sound harsh...
— You may not mean to, but I bet you will.
— Twenty-four years ago you marries Cora, against my wishes, for her money. Give it away now, what was the point of your peculiar marriage in the first place?
— If I were to tell you she'd made me very happy, would that stretch belief?
— It's not why you chose her...
— What's going on?
— They're forcing me into a morning coat.
— He has no say in it?
— No, he doesn't. And nor do you.
- 1
- 2