"I may not have the breeding and fortune of a lord, but I have TWICE the sanctimony!"
[Spoilers are telling secrets downstairs herein.]
Oh the goings-on at Downton this week! Lady Valium CAN'T EVEN LOOK at Lord Whoops, because he refused to listen to Doctor Mustache about Sybil's eclampsia. Luckily, Lord Whoops, giant man-child, has a Mommy to intervene on his stupid behalf. Which, in this case, means bullying Doctor Mustache into stretching the truth about how Sybil would have almost definitely died anyway, even if they'd taken his advice. Which sends Lady Valium into Lord Whoops' arms, and now they can grieve together.
And Lord Whoops never being held accountable for anything pans out pretty well for everyone else, as he pitches a fit about Tom wanting to name his motherless daugher Sybil and raise her Catholic; throws a tantrum about Matthew's correct assessment of his garbage estate-management skills; and storms over to Isobel's ladies' luncheon to demand his womenfolk return to Downton immediately lest they be tainted by prostitute soup.
What a neat guy!
At least Lady Mary lets him have a little whatfor when she tells him he's mad that the world isn't going his way anymore. OOH SNAP!
Carson's condescending judgmentalism picks up right where the Lord's leaves off, and he gives a full-strength dose of haughtiness to Mrs. Hughes about the staff having anything to do with Ethyl after Mrs. Patmore lent Ethyl her copy of Betty Crocker's Gruel for Dummies. It's time to ring Doctor Mustache on the telephone machine, because Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore have sprained their eyeballs rolling them at Carson. "Come quickly, sir! Their eyes be stuck!"
Lady Edith still hasn't taken the job at the newspaper. And that's all the news for Lady Edith, because tragedy is happening to other people this week. Lady Mary and Matthew have a sweet moment where they promise to never take for granted their love for each other. ("Just wait until you realize your husband's a total dipshit!"—Lady Valium. Great advice, I think we can all agree.) And Sybil is still dead because Jessica Brown Findlay wanted out of her contract.
Downstairs, Daisy gets an offer she thinks she might want to refuse from her sorta father-in-law. TAKE IT, DAISY! GO LIVE ON THE FARM! Sure, cooking food for rich people who barely acknowledge your existence and fox-trotting with Alfred so he can try to get off with Rosy Cheeks is nothing but fun NOW, but is it still going to be fun when you're fully 100 years old? THINK ABOUT IT.
And the conniving O'Brien tells Thomas to keep inappropriately touching Jimmy, who she assures him DEFINITELY LIKES BEING HIT ON even though Jimmy told her he hates it. "What a great subplot!"—All of us, as we are forced to watch the only openly gay character on the show turn ever more certainly into a gross stereotype of The Predatory Gay.
Meanwhile, at Grey Gaol, something something gaolmumble and shiv, and now Mean Lady decides to tell the truth and Bates will go free! Huzzah! I would be a lot more invested in this intrigue if I'd only understood a word of anything said in the sound production deadzone that is the Gray Gaol cobblestone wall set.
I can only hope that once Conniving Cellmate gets released, he heads to Downtown to murder Bates and kills Lord Whoops by accident. THE END!
[Please proceed to talk about all things Downton Abbey, but only through the fifth episode of Season 3. Please don't share things from later in the season, even with a spoiler warning, because I've got to mod the thread, which requires reading everything. So be kind, if you're elsewhere in the world where the whole season has already aired.]