Arthur and Olivia’s wedding day has all the shine of a proper society event — but behind the smiles, every guest seems to be working an angle. The first dance is elegant, the champagne is flowing, but the ballroom feels less like a party and more like a chessboard. Anne and Aunt Agnes keep plotting Edward’s marriage prospects, narrowing their list to one promising candidate: Adelaide Guinness (Ann Skelly), a third cousin, which, in Agnes’s world, is a feature, not a flaw. But who will break the ice?

The job falls to Benjamin, looking sharp in his new uniform and — thanks to Potter — sober at last. Sober, however, doesn’t mean smooth. Adelaide gets to him first, cheerful and direct, and shuts the whole plan down: she knows Edward has a list of potential brides, and she doesn’t want to be on it. She’s not looking for a husband — and, to add insult to injury, she doesn’t even like Guinness. Ouch.

Deflated, Benjamin turns toward Christine, only to be interrupted by another assertive woman: Henrietta (Elizabeth Dulau). When Aunt Agnes drops by to see how things are going, she’s scandalized to hear Benjamin talking about a London chambermaid he claims to love. It’s a bluff — Benjamin is negotiating. He’ll marry well if he gets what he wants: a generous allowance and a Chelsea house. “You are indeed a Guinness,” Agnes replies, half impressed, half exasperated.

Arthur and Olivia watch the drama unfold from a distance, enjoying their own night — but Olivia misses nothing. She notices Rafferty offering to escort Anne home, and in the quiet of the carriage, Anne finally confesses her recent miscarriage. Rafferty listens, but coldly, calling their affair short-lived and officially over. Later, he will soften, but the moment leaves Anne raw.

The night explodes when Arthur learns that Ellen and Patrick Cochrane are among the wedding guests. His fury is immediate — and ugly. He accuses the siblings of incest, pushing Patrick to the brink of violence. Edward steps in and cools the room, explaining Ellen’s new proposition: no more blackmail, only a “gradual movement” toward cooperation. Edward and Ellen are so aligned that they finish each other’s sentences, making the argument sound almost like common sense. Arthur hates it — but knows when he’s outmaneuvered.

Across the Atlantic, Byron is learning how unforgiving New York can be. Fresh off the boat, he naively asks directions from the wrong men — members of the Bowery Boys gang — and is chased through the streets until armed Irish expats pull him to safety. He’s taken to his cousin William (Moe Dunford), a Fenian leader in America, and pitches him on a plan to make Guinness popular in the States, where the drink is either unknown or dismissed as medicine for old men. Byron insists that the Guinness family “walks a tightrope.” Whether he’s steadying it or shaking it remains to be seen.

Back in Dublin, politics tighten their grip. Arthur’s election to Parliament seems assured — until Anne discovers that his campaign is literally buying votes with used train tickets. She storms up to Edward, furious. Edward’s anger is volcanic: he confronts Arthur, who has slipped back into his visits to Bonnie’s houses and secret meetings with Arty (Rob Houchen), his Eton friend and occasional lover. Arthur doesn’t understand the outrage — “everyone does it,” he’s been told — and for the first time, Edward sees his brother genuinely happy. That happiness disarms him, if only for a moment.

The episode closes with Edward dining at Arthur and Olivia’s sunlit home on Dublin Bay. The couple seems oddly harmonious: Arthur has the freedom to “play cards,” Olivia has the power of her new social position. But the peace feels brittle. When Olivia remarks — cuttingly — that Arthur was born to rule while Edward was born to work, Edward leaves a parting shot: a mention of the vote-rigging scheme. It’s a warning. The marriage may look perfect on the outside, but the cracks are already showing.

This episode pulls House of Guinness fully into the political arena. Marriage, alliances, and blackmail are no longer separate threads — they’re woven into one dangerous fabric. The New York storyline widens the scope, reminding us that the Guinness empire is global, and that its enemies are not confined to Dublin. Arthur seems more at ease than ever, but scandal and conspiracy are circling him. The wedding toast may mark the start of a new chapter — or the last calm before the storm.