What Bridgerton Season 4 gets right about orgasms, jealousy, and living edited lives

Dearest Gentle Reader...

Okay, stop reading now. Seriously.

Before we go any further, this is a public service announcement: If you haven’t watched season four of Bridgerton yet, stop reading immediately. I mean it. This column contains spoilers. Big ones. Juicy ones. Spoilers absolutely up the wazoo. Go away. Watch it. Then come back. I’ll wait.

I can’t be the only person who squeals for joy every time a new season of Bridgerton drops on Netflix. Since it first hit our screens in 2020, this show has continued to press every single one of my buttons: period drama, check. Lush storytelling, check. Fantastic accents, check. Enough filthy raunch to make you forget you’re watching people rocking empire-line dresses and breeches? Umm... check, and check again.

Season one gave us gratuitous, lingering shots of Simon Basset, Duke of Hastings, and his frankly excellent arse (Chris Van Dusen, we will be eternally grateful). Season two made us all look at the smouldering Anthony Bridgerton in an entirely new light. Season three was our collective "you go, girl" moment, as Penelope finally bagged Colin (and that infamous carriage ride burned itself into all our memories).

Season four, though? Well, season four is doing something else entirely.

It opens as a full-blown fairytale that isn't even attempting to deny its Cinderella roots. Okay, so the glass slipper is now an elbow-length glove, and Prince Charming’s ball has been remoulded as the first party of the season at Bridgerton House, but the rest of the elements are all there. There’s a wicked stepmother, one cruel stepsister, one slightly less awful one, and yes, of course, a midnight deadline.

But just as it threatens to tip into predictability, it resists. And what unfolds instead is Bridgerton at perhaps its most honest yet.

For the first time, season four sees us treated to a glimpse of the upstairs/downstairs divide that feels almost Downton Abbey-esque, as we see how the undercurrents of the action below stairs in each household ripples up to the lords and ladies living above. We’ve always known the Featherington household was emotionally chilly - seasons of Penelope being overlooked and undervalued made that painfully clear - but now we’re watching that cold thoughtlessness echoed in Lady Featherington’s relationship with her long-serving maid, Varley.

In contrast, season four gives us our first real glimpse of the staff below stairs at Bridgerton House. The kindness, respect, warmth, and camaraderie that exists in the servants' quarters mirrors the love we’ve seen in the family's drawing room for years. It grounds the fantasy beautifully.

Ironically, for a season that begins with a fairytale, this feels like Bridgerton at its most truthful. As I binged my way through the first four episodes, I couldn’t help noticing just how many lessons were quietly woven into the fabric of the storylines - lessons that those of us living outside traditional relationship scripts will likely recognise immediately.

So here are four standout themes from Bridgerton season four that the non-monogamous amongst us will find very familiar indeed.

1. Desire doesn't retire

Lady Bridgerton, undressing alone, letting the blanket fall away, standing before the mirror and truly seeing herself for the first time in years, was an unexpectedly powerful moment.

In an era when noblewomen were dressed and undressed each morning and night by ladies' maids, and rarely afforded a moment's privacy, it’s striking to realise that this woman may not have taken the time to absorb her naked body in decades. And the actor who plays her, Ruth Gemmell - who is knocking on the door of her sixties - is, quite frankly, sensational in this moment.

Anyone who has spent time in non-monogamous spaces will have seen women in their forties, fifties, and sixties, of every possible shape and size, dressed in exquisite lingerie and radiant with confidence and sensuality.

Desire, my friends, does not fade with age. Far from it. This season allows Lady Bridgerton to step away from her matriarchal role and show herself to be more than the widow, mother, friend, and employer we've come to know her as. We see her standing up to reclaim herself as a sensual woman. And that matters, reminding us all that sex isn’t something we grow out of. It's something we grow into.

2. Jealousy is rarely about sex

The Queen’s reaction to Lady Danbury’s desire to explore the world is one of the most quietly revealing arcs of the season. Her jealousy isn’t romantic. It isn’t sexual. It’s existential, and incredibly human. She fears losing Lady Danbury - her relevance, her control, her certainty. She fears not being enough. And in response, she tries to contain her friend, to keep her close, unfulfilled, and yearning.

Those of us familiar with non-monogamy recognise this instantly. Jealousy is rarely about the act itself. It’s about fear - of abandonment, ageing, invisibility, loss of power.

What the Queen doesn’t yet understand - and what we sincerely hope she's set to learn as the series progresses - is that allowing someone you love to explore, to experience, to live fully, does not dilute the bond you share. When trust and communication are strong, love is not a finite resource.

It's also a reminder that jealousy need not be demonised. Sometimes it's simply our mind's way of telling us that something matters to us. The real work lies in acknowledging its presence, in listening to it, but not letting it dictate our choices.

3. Love doesn’t automatically equal satisfaction

One of Bridgerton’s great triumphs has always been its refusal to portray women as sexually passive. Despite being set 200 years ago, in a time when female pleasure was barely acknowledged, and certainly unimportant, the show has consistently shown women enjoying sex. Enthusiastically.

From Daphne and the Duke fucking in the garden and exploring oral sex in the library, and Mr and Mrs Mondrich’s refusal to sleep in separate bedrooms, to the passion between Lady Bridgerton and her husband, which produced so many children they had to name them alphabetically just to keep track. Then there's the insatiable Kate and Anthony who struggle to leave their marital bed long enough to greet their visiting family, and who could forget Penelope and Colin's now-legendary carriage ride? Every step of the way, Bridgerton has given us men who want to pleasure their partners, and women who delight in being pleasured.

Which is why Francesca’s storyline this season is so interesting.

Here we have a Bridgerton daughter who marries happily, and for love, and yet finds herself sexually unfulfilled. She has, we learn quickly, never experienced an orgasm - or, 'the pinnacle,' as the show coyly calls it.

Rather than simply accepting this as her lot, Francesca does something quietly extraordinary: she asks questions. She talks to her mother, her sisters, her sister-in-law. She seeks information. And when, in a weak moment, she attempts to fake satisfaction, her husband gently stops her. 'You don’t have to do that. Don’t perform for my sake.'

It’s a rare and important thing to see a woman on the screen stating honestly that she's never had an orgasm, and to see a man respond with care rather than wounded pride.

Love doesn't guarantee sexual fulfilment, and compatibility in life does not automatically translate to compatibility in bed. Sometimes sex requires communication, a shared desire to learn, and a willingness to be awkward. Francesca’s storyline reminds us of something that women have been told to forget for far too long: orgasm is not a 'nice to have.' Satisfaction matters, and pretending otherwise serves absolutely no one.

4. Who we’re allowed to be (and who’s watching)

At its heart, Benedict and Sophie’s story - which is the focal point of Bridgerton season four - isn’t really about class or social rank. It’s about permission to live our lives the way we want to. It’s about the invisible audience that lives in all of our heads. The fear of judgement. The risk of being seen fully - and the worry of being rejected for it.

What Benedict stands to lose by loving Sophie isn’t just status, it’s his identity. His belonging, his safety, family, friends, his place in the world. Essentially the version of himself that he - that we all - have been taught to protect. And that's what makes this the most relatable theme of all. It shows us that freedom to be your true self is rarely about what is allowed technically, and almost always about what feels safe to admit.

The truth is that most people - monogamous or otherwise - live a life that is, in some way, edited. We soften our edges, conceal what makes us feel different, and hide our desires, too often choosing to do what feels acceptable to those around us over what feels true for us. If we stop editing ourselves, what might we lose? It's a valid question, but I think just as important to ask is 'If I stop editing myself, what might I gain?'

200 years ago, a nobleman loving a maid was unthinkable. 60 years ago, two men walking down the street holding hands was unheard of. 15 years ago, the idea of a polyamorous household would have been scandalous.

And yet here we are.

Non-monogamy is no longer hidden entirely in the shadows. It’s on our screens, in our podcasts, woven into our social media feeds, and threaded through our culture. Okay maybe it's not quite mainstream, but it's certainly no longer unnameable, and who can only imagine what the next decade or two will bring, and what direction it will take us in as a society.

I’ve loved what we’ve seen so far of Bridgerton season four. It’s sexy, yes, but it’s also layered, smart-as-hell, and utterly thought-provoking. It reminds us that female pleasure matters. That desire has no age limit. That exploration shouldn't have to threaten what we already have. And that perhaps we should all give far fewer fucks about what society thinks of how we choose to live our lives.

For a show set in Regency England, Bridgerton continues to be remarkably modern, and that is no small achievement. I have no idea where part two (dropping February 26th, eek!) is going to take us, but I can tell you that the date is already circled in my diary, and my watchlist stands ready to alert me the very moment that it drops.

Till next week, Gentle Readers...

- The Secret Hotwife