There are scones (pronounced “scones”, of course, not – heaven forfend – “scones”) and scrunch-faced toffs clearing their throats at news from the shires. Chastened, the casual viewer will close said Companion, remove her monocle and, as is customary, reach for the laudanum. It is, as the fourth season makes only too plain, quite, quite bananas. … Luke Thompson as the rakish Benedict Bridgerton. “Benedict Bridgerton!” shouts everyone at intervals of 30 seconds, shaking their fists at the debauchee as he scampers from the scene of his latest conquest like a dog with a string of sausages.