Poldark Series 2, Episode 8: Recap and Review

As part of his campaign to win Elizabeth, George is buying her son Jeffrey Charles' affections with sugar. He's given him "a few trifles". Steady on, George, we all know kids love jelly and custard but you don't want to get him hyper, or hooked on sherry. Still, with Demelza's pies, Verity's possets and now George's trifles, the Poldark cookbook is coming on nicely.

Who needs Bake Off? Certainly not Cap'n Blamey who, it appears, has been fully appreciating the delights of Verity's posset. Since marrying Blamey, Verity has no longer had to rely on her own reserves – unlike pistol-toting Aunt Agatha – as she is now pregnant. Three cheers for her, Blamey, and Blamey's splendid mast.

May it not turn out for Verity and Blamey as it does for Tom and Betty Carkeek, who are due at any moment. New-born babies are always a dubious sign in drama, as is people talking of their fortunes improving. They mean something awful is about to happen.

But for now, Verity's pregnancy is news that delights Demelza, unlike that which she anticipates from Trenwith. A letter for Master Ross – ooh, is it from Elizabeth? No, it's from Trencrom.

Oh. It's the first of several letters that has Demelza on edge, especially since she discovered that Ross sold all his shares in Wheal Leisure and gave the proceeds to Elizabeth. "I know he did love her," says she to Verity. "So when he goes to see her I'd not be human if I did not wonder what they say to each other, or if they still have feelings..."

But let's not get ahead of ourselves, as Ross has to go to court. "Well, well, well, here we are again," says Judge Halse, played by original Ross Poldark, Robin Ellis. It's a great moment of dramatic irony, the old Ross coming face to face with the young. Characteristically, young Ross is surly and unrepentant, producing witnesses to testify that he was not at Nampara cove on the night of the smuggling operation, but in St Ives.

Did he bribe them? That would make him no better than George. In any case, it results in the quickest case dismissal in TV history. As far as Ross is concerned it's not  perjury, merely playing the game. "I will never again be guilty of such recklessness," Ross says to Demelza. Hmmm.

Call Dwight Enys. "It was a cold night and my coat was thin," says he when asked why he lit the bonfire on Nampara cliff edge. Not to worry, Dwight, there's a queue of women wanting to warm you up. Rosina Hoblyn for one, who continues to follow him around like an abandoned puppy. Riding wistfully through the forest where he and Caroline Penvenan used to meet, dishy doctor Dwight could hardly be less interested. His stoicism regarding his paramour is a front, though: Caroline has returned all of his letters, telling him never to write to her again. Enys knows he must do something to take his mind off her.

"A good skirmish is a fine distraction," says Ross. But for the time being Enys will have to make do with delivering a baby. And so the law of TV drama comes to pass: with every birth, there must be a death. And not just any death, but in this case the baby's father, Ted Carkeek, who is killed when Wheal Grace collapses on top of him.

More ammunition for George to slander Ross with. He sends men to prospect for tin on the front lawn of Trenwith under the false pretext of stannary law. It's all theatre – George wants to make Elizabeth dependent on him. This he achieves, and then some. "This is monstrous!" cries Elizabeth's mother, Mrs Chynoweth. "Vulgars! Permitted to violate the purlieu of a gentleman's estate!"

Mrs Chynoweth has a stroke, making Elizabeth even more vulnerable to young Hugh Grant look-alike George, who seizes the opportunity to pour his heart out to her, finally completing the Four Weddings and a Funeral homage he began in Series 1, in which he tells Elizabeth, in the words of David Cassidy when he was with the Partridge Family that, um, er...

"I say that I love you." He also asks her to marry him, offering her all his worldly goods. It's no mistake that the fire is crackling. Aunt Agatha has overheard and, in one of the most powerful scenes of the series so far, quotes Matthew 4:8 to Elizabeth. When she witnesses Elizabeth accept George's proposal, Aunt Agatha slaps her tarot card on the table: the devil.

Oh my. Elizabeth doesn't even fancy George – everyone knows where her heart really lies. Ross does have quite a shaft, after all (not to blow his own trumpet but, in a line that could have come straight out of Carry On Poldark, even he admits that "it's not unimpressive.") However, when asked by Verity to join her on a visit to Nampara, Elizabeth has a headache. Which is a shame because if she'd gone she might have avoided the violation of another purlieu.

If we thought there'd been a distinct lack of Ross' moody pouting and glowering this series, he's about to make up for it now. A stormy moonlit gallop to Trenwith: Ross has finally heard the news of Elizabeth's impending nuptials to you-know-who. The house is locked so, foregrounding what will happen in Elizabeth's bedroom, he forces his way in and, shouting for Elizabeth, goes upstairs.

And so to that scene, and thorny questions regarding regarding sex, consent and rape, and the blurring of lines. The deliberate creation of ambiguity in such a storyline will always spark debate. For what it's worth, I happen to think that the narrative of a woman saying no, whether once or multiple times, before submitting to a man who overpowers her does amount to rape. This wasn't angry sex, or kinky role-playing. She had no choice; it was rape. I just wish Poldark had to guts to call it so.

Does it matter? If I trivialised rape here I'd expect a backlash, so to a certain extent it must. Poldark hasn't shied away from difficult subject matter before, and has shown it's capable of handling tough subject matter with sensitivity (infant death, for example, and the murder of actress Karen at the hands of Mark Daniel). No one is suggesting that rape should not be put in a story. It's not the depiction of rape that's the issue, but the way it is depicted.

If we insist on looking at things through the mores and attitudes of the time, we could also look at other examples in Poldark. Ross is incredulous that Elizabeth should marry George for his money, but a woman like Elizabeth was just as likely to marry for political and pragmatic reasons as she was for love. Elizabeth is a penniless noblewoman who needs to ensure the security of herself and her son, while George is on the up and keen to increase his social standing. They both have things to offer each other apart from love. Ross' insistence that Elizabeth marry for love seems rather quaint.

Ross' treatment of Elizabeth in this scene wasn't about his love for her; it was about male competition – George wants Elizabeth because Ross wants her, and vice versa. Both Ross and George treat Elizabeth as a possession, with Ross using sex as a weapon and a means of control. Elizabeth's body is the battleground on which Ross and George act out their rivalry, with ex-soldier Captain Ross claiming his territory.

A good storyteller would have been able to handle all this a lot better. If we have to ask questions regarding the historical context, perhaps the story has not been told properly. Bad things happen, in life and in fiction, and good storytelling – as epitomised by Shakespeare, for example – can bestride the centuries. Perhaps this particular story reflects the 21st Century's continuing confusion surrounding rape as much as anything else. 

As George said earlier, "It's not given to many to achieve so much in a single stroke" (do they put these lines in deliberately?) He's got that right. With her wedding to George Warleggan looming, will Elizabeth pass off the outcome of a now probable pregnancy as his?

When Ross returns from his night with Elizabeth, Demelza is hanging out the washing. She lumps him one and he falls to the ground. It is a fist in the air moment, worthy of Eastenders' drums.

Are those the fine stockings Ross gave Demezla for Christmas on the line? Looks like there'll be more dirty laundry to come.