From her debut in The Gilded Age, Marian Brook has represented more than a young woman trying to find her place in a new city. She embodies the struggle of staying true to oneself in a world where conventions, reputations, and family alliances often stifle individual desire.

Her journey, from unprotected orphan to passionate and decisive woman, is one of the most subtle — and painful — character developments in Julian Fellowes’ series. In Season 3 especially, Marian must confront not only her feelings but the traumas that prevent her from trusting love.

If Marian came out of the imaginations of Edith Wharton or Henry James, we might fear for her, but even though Fellowes likes a happy ending, there will be tears before they get there. Yes, he gave us Marian’s engagement to Larry Russell, but will they really make it to the altar?

It seems that Bertha, who opposes their union, might not even need to worry or get too involved to separate them…

The Innocence of Arrival and the First Major Fall

When Marian arrives in New York at the beginning of the series, she carries a mix of curiosity and naïveté. She has just lost her father, finds out he left her penniless, and is forced to rely on the generosity of her aunts — Agnes and Ada — whom she barely knows. Her entry into high society is abrupt, as if she’s been thrown onto a chessboard without knowing the rules.

Even so, Marian is not a passive victim. She questions the restrictions placed on women, wants to find her own path, and is capable of small acts of defiance, such as helping Peggy Scott or resisting Aunt Agnes’s authoritarianism. But her sweetness also makes her vulnerable — especially in matters of the heart.

Her relationship with Tom Raikes, the charming lawyer who seduces her with promises of love and freedom, ends in betrayal. He abandons her in pursuit of a socially advantageous marriage. That experience marks Marian deeply. More than a broken heart, she emerges with a permanent sense of caution: to love too much, to trust too much, exposes you. And women don’t get second chances.

Season Two: Between Self-Censorship and Hope

In Season 2, we see Marian trying to adjust. Wounded by Raikes, she becomes more guarded. Yet she still dares: she begins teaching painting, something frowned upon by the elite, but she insists. At the same time, she entertains the courtship of Dashiell Montgomery, a kind man she does not love. The pressure to secure a safe — yet emotionally empty — marriage looms, and Marian almost gives in.

It is in this space between resignation and the desire for freedom that Larry Russell reemerges in her life. From the beginning, he has always been nearby: as a friend, confidant, and witness to her pains. But now, Larry represents something different. He is in love with intimacy, affection with mutual admiration. He sees her as she truly is, without projection.

We say goodbye with their first kiss, filling us with hope for the couple’s happiness.

The Rise of Love and the Return of Doubt

In Season 3, Marian and Larry finally fall in love. They get engaged in a beautiful scene — one so moving that, according to actors Harry Richardson and Louisa Jacobson, both cried between takes. For Larry, the engagement is the culmination of sincere, patient love. For Marian, it is a leap of faith: a decision to trust again.

But the joy doesn’t last.

Right on the day they get engaged, Larry announces he will leave for a month-long trip to Arizona for a project with his father, after a bachelor party with “friends.” He says it will be at a hotel, but in reality, it was at a brothel. And since he ran into Maud Beaton, the woman who scammed Marian’s cousin Oscar, he will quickly be exposed for lying to his fiancée at the very start of their commitment. Major slip-up by Larry.

Until now always positive, Marian expresses disappointment that Larry won’t have dinner with her even though he is also about to travel for a month for work. She knows that Bertha Russell, Larry’s mother, is against their marriage, and perhaps because of that, Marian already feels the distance as a threat. When she finds out through Oscar that this “farewell” took place at a brothel, we see a Marian unknown until now: passionate, insecure, and very upset.

None of this is objectively infidelity. But for someone like Marian, who has been deceived before, omissions carry the weight of betrayal. Worse yet: she had also already discovered, again through Oscar, that Larry had an affair with a widow in Newport — something he never fully disclosed. Although in the 19th century men didn’t talk about such things with their fiancées, the omission still hurts. After all, he knows about Tom Raikes.

From that point, Marian unravels — emotionally but quietly. She voices her pain in harsh, revealing lines from the mid-season trailer:

“All the men in my life have failed me.”

“It turns out I don’t know Larry as well as I thought.”

“Lies and secrets are no foundation for marriage — look at my situation.”

These aren’t the words of someone cold or possessive. They come from someone who carries open scars. Someone who, above all, is trying to protect herself.

The Synopses and the Emotional Collapse

The episode descriptions for 7 and 8 confirm that a crisis is near. In Episode 7, Larry returns from Arizona with a “promising discovery” but receives “troubling news.” This revelation may be professional — but it might also shake their relationship.

In the finale, titled “My Mind is Made Up”, the synopsis is clear:

“Marian struggles to move on.”

This strongly suggests a breakup. That Marian, after yet another disappointment, decides not to move forward. And that, even though she loves him, she chooses to walk away — for her own emotional survival. It marks the end of a cycle, but perhaps the beginning of her full self-realization.

She’s Not Cold. She’s Awake.

The beauty of Marian Brook’s writing lies in her emotional complexity. She is neither a tragic heroine nor a flamboyant rebel. She is a woman trying to balance love, fear, and integrity in a society that punished women for stepping out of line.

She doesn’t demand perfection from Larry. But she does demand emotional honesty. She doesn’t want to romanticize silence. She doesn’t want to repeat her past. She wants truth. Transparency. A love that won’t, once again, leave her unprotected.

Louisa Jacobson has said in interviews that this season reveals more of Marian’s “triggers” and “traumas” — and that, even amid pain, Marian remains a champion for those around her. This rings true: even in crisis, she extends empathy to Oscar, Peggy, Agnes, and even strangers. That’s what sets her apart: she doesn’t shut down. She tries to be fair, even when she’s in pieces.

Conclusion: Love as a Choice, Not a Prison

Marian Brook may end Season 3 alone. She may decide to break things off with Larry. She may forgive him. But the most important thing is that, now, she chooses. Not her aunt. Not society. Not a man with vague promises.

Her “My mind is made up” is more than a line. It’s a declaration of selfhood. And for a woman in 1884, that is radical.

Marian is not broken.
She is awake.
And if that means walking alone — so be it. She’ll do it with her head held high. But I hope it will be by Larry’s side.