Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1 (9 page)

WILLIAM: I don't see why he has to go. I don't mind doing a bit of extra—

THOMAS: It's not up to you. I'll take care of his lordship tonight, shall I, Mr Carson?

CARSON: Not when you're looking after the Duke, you won't. I'll see to his lordship, myself.

Which annoys Thomas.

Anna, with her tray, is outside Bates's door which is ajar.

She comes round the door. Bates is slumped forward, his head in both his hands, crying. Silently, she retreats.

Anna walks a little way away.

ANNA: Mr Bates! Are you there?

She draws nearer and knocks. The door opens. Bates stands there. He has rubbed away the tears but his eyes are red.

ANNA (CONT'D): I brought something up. In case you were hungry.

BATES: That's very kind.

He takes the tray from her. Neither of them moves.

ANNA: I'm ever so sorry you're going.

BATES: I'll be all right.

ANNA: Of course you will. There's always a place for a man like you.

Which is a compliment. He is gentler now.

BATES: Oh yes. Something'll turn up.

ANNA: Tell us when you're fixed. Just drop us a line. Else I'll worry.

BATES: Well, we can't have that.

He smiles sadly but he doesn't promise. He shuts the door. The door closes. Anna walks down the corridor.

The candles burn low. Robert and Crowborough are still there. The cigar smoke swirls and coils around them. Robert rises.

ROBERT: We must go through and let the servants get in here.

CROWBOROUGH: I should be grateful if we could stay for just a minute more. I have something to ask you.

Robert nods and sits down again.

CROWBOROUGH (CONT'D): I was terribly sorry to hear about your cousins.

ROBERT: You said. Did you know them?

CROWBOROUGH: Not well. I used to see Patrick Crawley at the odd thing.

He hesitates. There is a sort of tension in the air.

CROWBOROUGH (CONT'D): I imagine it will mean some adjustments for all of you … To lose two heirs in one night … It's terrible.

ROBERT: Indeed. It was terrible.

CROWBOROUGH: Awful. But then again, it's an ill wind …

He half smiles at Robert who is not making this easier.

CROWBOROUGH (CONT'D): At least Lady Mary's prospects must have rather improved.

ROBERT: Have they?

CROWBOROUGH: Haven't they?

Robert gives himself another glass of port as he looks at the greedy fortune-hunter. Is it right that Downton should be broken up and destroyed for this nonentity? It is not.

ROBERT: I will not be coy and pretend I do not understand your meaning, though you seem very informed on this family's private affairs.

Now it is Crowborough's turn to be silent.

ROBERT (CONT'D): But you ought perhaps to know that I do not intend to fight the entail. Not any part of it.

CROWBOROUGH: You can't be serious.

ROBERT: It pains me to say it, but I am.

CROWBOROUGH: You'll give up your entire estate? Your wife's money into the bargain, to a perfect stranger? You won't even put up a fight?

He is too angry to be discreet.

ROBERT: I hope he proves perfect but I rather doubt it.

CROWBOROUGH: Ha. It is an odd thing to joke about.

ROBERT: No odder than this conversation. So there you have it. But Mary will still have her settlement, which you won't find ungenerous.

CROWBOROUGH: I'm sorry?

ROBERT: I mean only that her portion, on her marriage, will be more than respectable. You'll be pleased, I promise.

An expression of concern crosses the younger man's face.

CROWBOROUGH: Oh, heavens. I hope I haven't given the wrong impression …

ROBERT: You know very well the impression you've given.

CROWBOROUGH: My dear Lord Grantham—

ROBERT: Don't ‘my dear Lord Grantham' me! You knew what you were doing when you came here. You've encouraged Mary, all of us, to think—

CROWBOROUGH: Forgive me, but I came to express my sympathies and my friendship. Nothing more. Lady Mary is a charming person. Whoever marries her will be a lucky man. He will not, however, be me.

ROBERT: I see. And what was it that you asked me to stay behind to hear?

Crowborough and Robert lock eyes.

CROWBOROUGH: I … I forget.

Robert walks on through, without a backward glance, but Crowborough hesitates, then starts towards the staircase. He takes one of the candles on the table by the staircase, and lights it.

MARY (V.O.): Aren't you coming into the drawing room?

She is standing in the shadows. Waiting.

CROWBOROUGH: I'm tired. I think I'll just slip away. Please make my excuses.

MARY: I'm afraid I've worn you out. Tomorrow, we can just—

CROWBOROUGH: I'm leaving in the morning.

He stares at her. They both know what this means.

CROWBOROUGH (CONT'D): Good night. Oh, you might tell that footman …

MARY: Thomas.

CROWBOROUGH: Thomas. You might tell him I've gone up.

He goes.

EDITH: So he slipped the hook.

She is in a doorway, watching. A smile plays on her lips.

MARY: At least I'm not fishing with no bait.

She walks past her sister towards the drawing room. But there are tears on her cheeks which she wipes away angrily.

Thomas hangs a dressing gown in a wardrobe.

THOMAS: I don't
believe
that!

What is strange is that he's clearly speaking to a social equal. Who turns out to be the Duke of Crowborough.

CROWBOROUGH: Well, believe what you like. He won't break the entail. The unknown cousin gets everything and Mary's inheritance will be the same as it always was.

THOMAS: How was I to know? When the lawyer turned up, I thought—

CROWBOROUGH: You couldn't have known and you were right to send the telegram. But it's not going to come off.

THOMAS: So what now?

CROWBOROUGH: You know how I'm fixed. I must have an heiress, if I have to go to New York to find one.

THOMAS: What about me?

This is amazing. Thomas kneels to remove Crowborough's shoes.
*

CROWBOROUGH: You … you will wish me well.

THOMAS: You said you'd find me a job if I wanted to leave.

CROWBOROUGH: And do you?

THOMAS: I want to be a valet. I'm sick of being a footman.

CROWBOROUGH: But I have a valet. I thought you were trying to get rid of the new one here.

THOMAS: I've done it. But I'm not sure Carson's gonna let me take over.

He approaches the Duke.

THOMAS (CONT'D): And I want to be with you.

They embrace.

CROWBOROUGH: I can't see it working. We don't seem to have the basis of a servant—master relationship?

He kisses his fingers.

THOMAS: You came here to be with me.

CROWBOROUGH: Among other reasons. But one swallow doesn't make a summer.

THOMAS: Aren't you forgetting something?

His voice has got quite nasty. But Crowborough smiles.

CROWBOROUGH: What? Are you threatening me?

Thomas's silence appears to confirm that he is.

CROWBOROUGH (CONT'D): Because of a youthful dalliance? A few weeks of madness in a London Season? You wouldn't hold that against me, surely?

THOMAS: I would if I have to.

CROWBOROUGH: Who'd believe a greedy footman against the word of a duke? If you're not very careful, you'll end up behind bars.

THOMAS: I've got proof.

The Duke opens a drawer and brings out a bundle of letters.

CROWBOROUGH: You mean these?

Thomas lunges, but Crowborough's quick. He hurls them into the fire and holds Thomas in an arm lock. The letters burn.

CROWBOROUGH (CONT'D): I'm grateful. My mother's always telling me never to put anything in writing and now, thanks to you, I never will again.

THOMAS: How did you get them, you bastard?

CROWBOROUGH: Don't be a bad loser, Thomas. Go to bed. Unless you want to stay.

With a withering look, the footman leaves. But Crowborough doesn't mind. He's on to the next adventure.

Mrs Hughes is sitting by her fire when Carson looks in.

CARSON: I think I'll turn in.

MRS HUGHES: No big announcement, then?

CARSON: No. Nor likely to be. He's off on the nine o'clock train.

MRS HUGHES: He never is! And when we've had a turkey killed for tomorrow's dinner!

CARSON: Thomas says he's packed already.

MRS HUGHES: I wonder what she did wrong.

CARSON: She did
nothing
wrong! Not from the way his lordship was talking.

MRS HUGHES: So His Grace turned out to be graceless?

But Carson doesn't find these things funny.

CARSON: Goodnight, Mrs Hughes.

MRS HUGHES: Goodnight, Mr Carson.

Robert and Cora are in bed.

CORA: If you knew that was your decision why put Mary through it?

ROBERT: I didn't know it
was
my decision, my
final
decision, until tonight. But I find I cannot ruin the estate and hollow out the title, for the sake of Mary, even with a better man than that.

CORA: I try to understand. I just can't.

ROBERT: Why should you? Downton is in my blood and in my bones. It's not in yours. And I can no more be the cause of its destruction than I could betray my country.

She feels a mixture of admiration and irritation.

ROBERT (CONT'D): Besides, how was I to know he wouldn't take her without the money?

CORA: Don't pretend to be a child because it suits you.

ROBERT: Do you think she would've been happy with a fortune-hunter?

CORA: She might've been. I was.

This admission of the unspoken brings Robert up short. After a beat, he sits on the bed and takes her hand.

ROBERT: Have you been happy? Really? Have I made you happy?

CORA: Yes. That is, since you fell in love with me.

She is playing with him a little, but she does love him.

CORA (CONT'D): Which if I remember correctly was about a year after we married.

ROBERT: Not a year. Not as long as that.

He raises her hand to his lips. Then …

ROBERT (CONT'D): But it wouldn't have happened for Mary.

CORA: Why not?

ROBERT: Because I'm
so
much nicer than the Duke of Crowborough.

CORA: I'll be the judge of that.

These two are well suited. She lowers the lamp wick, blows it out and settles down.