Poldark Series 2, Episode 5: Recap and Review

No wonder Ross needs a bath. Lugging buckets of water and chopping wood – shirtless, of course (I imagine) – is sweaty work. Candles and firelight ensure the scene is tastefully lit, and with Ross submerged from the chin down and Demelza fully-clothed as she sponges him, it isn't at all gratuitous.

So what are they talking about? Pies? No, Francis. Oh.

"He's a good man, he has things you lack," says Demelza, which would normally make me smirk. However, after slagging Francis off all this time, I actually found myself starting to like him. Dammit.

"Put the two of you together and that would make you a complete man," Demelza tells Ross. I think she'll find that's Ross and Enys, but no matter. Did somebody say pie? Hurrah!

"We're dining out after a year of turnips and turkey pie," says Demelza to Ross as they enter the Penvenan residence for Caroline and Unwin's engagement party.

Hey! Don't knock turnips! I bet there's more sense in a single common root vegetable than comedy Scotsman Captain McNeil will ever have. Demelza is fortunate to be seated next to him in the dining room, while Ross is next to Elizabeth who, when it comes to men, also believes in having two at once.

"Do you believe that what the eye does not admire, the heart does not desire?" Elizabeth asks Ross. Ooh, that's an interesting conversation starter. I must remember that one.

"It's always been so with me," says Ross. "As you should know." Oh, please.

Elizabeth does not stop there. "Cannot a woman love two men? Cannot a man love two women?" Steady on! What is she suggesting? Wife-swapping? Menage a quatre?

Elizabeth tells Ross that it was a mistake she loved Francis, and that as she changed her mind once before, she can change it again. There follows a symbolic cotillion, which is about as close as she's getting to Ross at the moment. Never mind, Elizabeth, you'll be free to pursue Ross soon.

Aroused by flirty talk with Ross, Elizabeth lets Francis join her in her boudoir. We then cut to crashing waves on rocks. Then there's vigorous coastal riding. Then a close-up of Trevithick's engine pumping up and down. OK, OK, we get it! Francis really is a new man. Transformed after his attempted suicide, he's undergone a rebirth. His hair's even a little longer, and it suits him.

He's not the only one full of the joys of spring. After brazenly dumping foppish MP Unwin, Nell Gwyn-a-like Caroline plays catch-up with dishy doctor Enys, who doesn't think he stands a chance with her. But then he confesses his feelings.

Where better for a romantic liaison than a bluebell-strewn wood? "Tell me," says she. "Who is Dwight Enys? Is he the strong, capable man who bestrides the sickroom?"

She would rather like him to bestride her, I'm sure. However, after spending all her years learning to be an heiress, she tells Enys that she doesn't know men at all.

"What would you like to know?" he asks. Oh, Enys, how long have you got? Somehow he manages to keep a straight face – but then he's just treated a patient with a stiff leg whose name is Hoblyn, so he's had plenty of practice.

"In December I come of age," says Caroline, which means she'll be free to choose the man she wants. Enys is going to get one hell of a Christmas present.

Over at Wheal Grace, Francis and Ross stand before Trevithick's pumping engine. "Fifty fathoms," says Francis. "Can it really drain that deep?"

"I hope so," says Ross. "I've just sunk the last of my capital into it." That's not the only thing that'll be... No, wait. More on that later.

'Cause Ted Carceek has been arrested for smuggling, which is a capital offence. Was it bad luck, or did someone betray him?

"Who could it be?" asks Enys.

"Trencrom say it could be anyone," says Nick Vigus. Which is helpful.

At Carkeek's trial Francis is oblivious to the dead rat on his head. He's on a forgiveness trip and wants to show mercy to prisoners. He skilfully talks Reverend Halse into sentencing Carkeek to a lenient three months' hard labour.

The next morning, empowered after having told George Warleggan where to stick his noxious acquaintance, Francis kisses his sleeping son goodbye and promises to read him a bedtime story later.

"I have a feeling our fortunes will change today," says Francis to Ross.

Oh dear. We know they will, but not in the way he means. Parents in TV dramas never return for the bedtime story.

Desperate to find copper, Francis also wants to earn Ross' admiration. When he finds strains of the mineral, he goes deeper into the mine shaft – alone – to investigate. Distracted, he falls into a well.

It's a tense scene. But given how often he'd evaded death before – near drowning, a shot to the neck, the putrid throat and attempted suicide – I was optimistic for his survival. If Jud Paynter could come back from the dead then so could Francis.

I believed he would, right up to the funeral. But there are only so many times a man can cheat death before it gets ridiculous. It's true I never cared much for Francis, except towards the end. But Francis' biggest fault was that he'd become what a character can never be: superfluous to plot. He'd served his purpose – if he'd ever had one – and it was time for him to go.

As he was pulled out of the water, however, I felt manipulated. The changes in his personality after his attempted suicide, the little boys running on the beach, the music – they were going to make us care about Francis if it killed them.

At least Elizabeth no longer needs to love two men now. There's only one, and Demelza knows it.