It transpires that Tintagel stands as both the idyllic and eerily prescient backdrop for the unfolding love triangle among Nan, Theo, and Guy in "The Buccaneers." This storied locale is replete with tales of triangular romances, notably the saga of King Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot, which earns a poignant mention in "Holy Grail," and the tragic love story of Tristan and Isolde (or Yseult, depending on one's preference). As our Duke of Tintagel sagely observes, the characters in the Arthurian legend seldom find happiness, and Tristan and Isolde's fate, marked by their doomed love and tragic demise, serves as a grim reminder. Thus, there's a haunting precedent suggesting our central love triangle might conclude in heartbreak. (A visit to the Tristan and Isolde grotto on the estate would warrant heightened vigilance.) Mercifully, "The Buccaneers" doesn't blatantly foretell a catastrophic conclusion, but this episode undeniably leaves our trio of lovers melancholic and introspective.
"You're a sensation!" exclaims the Dowager Duchess of Tintagel as Nan and Theo return from their grand honeymoon tour, three months post-nuptials. Indeed, they have traveled the countryside, waving, smiling, and sharing intimate nights. Their journey appears as a "triumphant tour" in every sense. Besides endearing themselves to the duke and duchess's subjects, Nan has astutely kept her marriage in the public eye, ensuring her sister's safety from media scrutiny. Jinny has faded into obscurity, while Nan and Theo's bliss seems almost too perfect. However, upon Nan's return to Tintagel, she retreats to her bedroom, retrieves Guy's shirt concealed in her wardrobe, and weeps into it on her bed. Has one truly lived without tearstained mementos of a former love? Evidently, Nan is far from over Guy, and Theo's inadvertent eavesdropping on her sobbing only compounds the awkwardness. "I think my wife is broken-hearted," he later laments, a poignant revelation if ever there was one.
Nan's suppression of her feelings for Guy to uphold her role as the flawless duchess complicates matters for her friend Lizzy. Lizzy receives a letter from the man who once filled Nan's Sobbing Shirt, requesting her to deliver a message containing his whereabouts. He offers Nan the choice to join him and Jinny in hiding in a quaint Italian town. Like Nan, Guy strives to make the most of a life unaligned with his dreams. Deeply in love with Jinny's child, Freddie, he acknowledges his sacrifice was fueled by his love for Nan. His hideaway isn't dreadful either; he makes do with what he has. Life would undoubtedly be simpler if Nan could flee Tintagel to be with him, fashioning a clandestine existence together. His letter lays it all out, leaving it to Lizzy to decide: should she shield Nan from this knowledge, opting for the easier path? Or should she empower Nan to make a definitive choice between Guy and Theo, and what they each symbolize? The latter seems infinitely fairer.
When Lizzy arrives at Tintagel for the Spring Gala, poised to open Parliament, she harbors a desire to gauge her friend's emotions meticulously before making any decisions. As a TV enthusiast, witnessing Lizzy navigate this grand bash with the crucial information about Jinny, a secret everyone is desperately guarding, tucked away in her handbag, left me utterly stressed and on edge. Nothing significant transpired from this; it felt like a missed chance, and I found myself repeatedly shouting in my head that Lizzy was being uncharacteristically oblivious until she reached her final conclusion.
My anxiety skyrocketed when Lord Seadown made his entrance at the party. It's understandable why he might think it's appropriate to be there: his lack of self-awareness, sociopathic narcissism, and his intention to coerce Nan into revealing Jinny's whereabouts justify his presence in his mind. However, it's perplexing why everyone else finds his attendance logical. The guests cheering him on to search for his crazy wife at her sister's home? Absolutely disgraceful. Theo, as a duke, needs to maintain diplomacy, but he should be far more incensed with Seadown—not just for what he's done to Jinny, but for the way he treats Nan. Step up and defend your woman, Theo!
Nan, too, must feign indifference towards Seadown's appearance, though she initially succeeds in ignoring him. The entertainment segment of the gathering revolves around a King Arthur-themed quest for the holy grail. (Legend whispers that Arthur was born at Tintagel.) In reality, it's just a trivial game involving nuts, but the wealthy elite will resort to any means to entertain themselves. This is precisely why golf was invented. For our narrative, this quest provides characters with opportunities for private interactions. Nan catches Hector Robinson, the MP who harbors a crush on Lizzy, shaking hands with Seadown. She scolds Hector for associating with such a despicable individual, but Hector is striving to pass a bill allowing working men to own land, and he seeks every possible support. They engage in a brief discussion about who holds a voice in English society, and when Nan begins to whine about her lack of influence, Hector reminds her that she is a duchess, wielding far more sway than she realizes.
However, the more intriguing pairing of holy grail hunters is Lizzy and Theo. Their playful interaction from the previous week, where Theo nudged her towards befriending Hector, and their flirtatious moments here clearly hint at burgeoning feelings between them. When Theo opens up about Nan's unhappiness and his confusion on how to address it, it becomes evident that what's brewing is a cauldron of tangled romantic sentiments. And when Theo attaches Lizzy's lost bracelet to her wrist, gazing into her eyes with such intensity? Oh, my, these two are undeniably destined to ignite some sparks in the near future.
At the mausoleum of Tintagel, our quartet of players converges, where Hector and Nan have unearthed a beloved nut dish, a relic of days gone by. Theo, ever the impromptu guide, decides to lead the group into the depths of the ancestral tomb chamber beneath. Included among its grim reveries are plots designated for both him and Nan, an odd romantic gesture akin to showing a lover her future grave site. For Nan, this grim preview of eternity serves as a stark reminder that her marriage, which she tirelessly strives to nurture, is a commitment for life—a bond that transcends time itself.
Lizzy finds herself compelled to confront Nan, seeking clarity amidst the confusing signals emanating from both Nan and Theo. Letters await delivery, and hearts languish on Italian shores, yearning for resolution. Lizzy yearns to know, with unwavering certainty, if Nan is content. Nan's cryptic response, "What does happy mean?", speaks volumes; her happiness is but a distant echo. Overwhelmed by the macabre ambiance of the tomb, Nan unleashes her frustration upon Lizzy, insisting that the state of her marriage is a private matter, beyond Lizzy's purview.
Just before dinner, Nan's encounter with Seadown adds insult to injury. He informs her, with an air of inevitable triumph, that upon locating her sister, he intends to commit her to an insane asylum, ostensibly for her own good. As the group assembles for dinner and Nan prepares to introduce Theo, she resolves that if she is indeed tethered to this duchess's fate for eternity, she might as well wield her newfound influence with vigor. Hector's reminder of her potential sway serves as fuel for her determination.
With fervor, Nan rises to deliver a rousing speech. She champions Hector's bill, which promises a voice to all working men, but decries the absence of an advocate for women's voices. She concurs that all men should own land, yet declares, "No man should be allowed to own his wife." Her gaze locks onto Seadown as she vows to ensure that women are heard and believed, promising that "any man who threatens my safety shall face the consequences he deserves." When Theo finally stands, it is with unwavering support for his wife, echoing her defiant resolve.
The atmosphere at the table was tense, almost unbearable, and it wasn't long before Theo abruptly left, prompting Nan to venture out in search of him. Alas, it was Seadown who encountered her, isolated in the shroud of darkness, and seized the moment to confront her: "Humiliation, is that your game?" he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. Before he could elaborate on the reasons she would "come to regret her little act," Theo intervened with a powerful punch square in Seadown's face, a moment of sweet release for me, personally. This was the fiery passion I had longed to see from Theo—as if he were battling on behalf of and to safeguard his beloved wife. This gesture, coupled with Nan finally finding her voice, seemed to propel her forward in her marriage. Together, they shared a blissful night in bed, only to be followed by Nan seeking out Lizzy that morning to declare, once and for all, her release from Guy. Theo and Nan stood at the cusp of a genuine chance at happiness, and she was determined to do whatever it took to make it a reality. Symbolically, Nan burned her Sobbing Shirt while Lizzy consigned Guy's letter to the flames. The Duke and Duchess's bond had never been stronger.
Tragically, this fleeting joy lasted but a mere five hours. Seadown tracked down Theo in the morning, and I can scarcely bring myself to dwell on Theo's absurd apology for striking him, for it fills me with such frustration that I almost wish to retaliate myself—but time was of the essence. Seadown was probing for information about Jinny. When he inquired if Theo had heard from Guy regarding Jinny's whereabouts and witnessed the shock and bewilderment contorting Theo's features, he realized he held leverage over Nan. He revealed that several witnesses had seen Guy flee with Jinny during the wedding and, incidentally, Guy scurrying around with Nan the night before. Suddenly, the pieces fell into place for Theo: Guy had been in Nan's bed on the eve of their wedding. Nan had concealed so much from him, leaving Theo seething with anger. And thus, we are introduced to yet another tormented love triangle, adding to the rich tapestry of Tintagel's legends.
