Previously on Outlander...
You've returned to service.
I have resigned my commission,
but the uniform is mine to wear.
I do so for intimidation.
He's protecting me, ma'am.
It wasn't me who you were making love to.
Well, nor were you, I think,
making love to me.
No.
Claire!
How in God's name are you alive?
I hate to break up such a joyous reunion,
but your son is due home shortly.
"Son"?
Your baptismal name is James.
It was the only name I had a right to give ye.
You knew, didn't you?
There he is!
One more step, and he's a dead man.
We won't be safe until we leave the city.
The patrols willna venture that far.
May I ask what it is that you were doing
to have soldiers on your heels?
Ye're sure ye want to know?
It's likely better ye don't.
Soldiers were inspectin' folk enterin' the city.
My papers were in order,
but some ox-head didna like the look o' them, I suppose,
and wanted to search me.
And that was a problem because...
There was something upon my person
I preferred he did not discover.
I see.
I'm surprised you allowed yourself
to be cornered by them,
your instincts being what they are.
Aye, well, even foxes grow old.
Why didn't you run to the edge of town?
Why the devil did you come to my house?
My wife.
I learned that the Euterpe had sunk.
I kent Claire would be worried,
so I needed to assure her I was alive.
Come.
We'll procure some horses.
Should anyone ask later,
I forced you to come with me.
Are we understood?
We are.
Thank ye, John.
Didna have time to say it earlier,
but I'm grateful for ye,
for taking care of Claire.
Claire.
Ah.
Yes.
Gravely sorry...
William had to learn our secret.
We'll find the lad,
explain to him.
Of course.
Are ye quite well, John?
Ye look a wee bit pale.
I have had carnal knowledge of your wife.
Oh?
Why?
"Why?"
You say, "Why?"
Aye, I did.
I'd, uh...
appreciate an answer.
Well, what do you bloody mean, "Why?"
I thought you were dead.
So did your wife.
Do you have the faintest idea
what the knowledge of your death did to her?
Are ye implying the news of my death
deranged her to such an extent
that she lost her reason
and took ye to her bed by force?
Unless I've been seriously misled
regardin' yer own nature.
Or am I wrong?
You are not misled.
But you are wrong.
Ye went to her with desire?
And she let ye?
I dinna believe it.
We thought you were dead, you bloody arsehole!
Both of us!
And... and we... we...
we had too much to drink one night, and...
damn you, neither one of us was making love to the other.
We were both fucking you!
*CREDITS*
_
May I come in?
I wish to speak to you.
I imagine you do.
Please.
Would you like some brandy?
It's good for shock.
No.
I'm not sure what to call you...
under... under the circumstances.
Well, I would hope
that our relationship hasn't changed.
And after all, I suppose I...
I still am your stepmother,
regardless of the situation.
I suppose you knew?
Yes.
Jamie...
he told me the circumstances of your birth
some years ago.
Tell me.
Your mother...
She was reckless.
Everyone says she was reckless.
Was it...
I suppose I only want to know,
was it rape?
No.
Are you certain he did not lie to you?
Yes, I am certain.
Good.
Do you think...
Did... did he say...
Did they love each other?
I think as much as they could have.
They only had the one night.
I... I see.
I was... I was born
almost exactly nine months after my parents' marriage.
Did they deceive the man she was to marry?
Or did my mother play the whore with her groom after she wed?
- I think that's a little harsh. - No. No, it's not.
Which is it?
Jamie would never deceive another man in his marriage.
My father...
Lord John, I mean...
he knew all along?
Yes.
And Isobel too.
But they only wanted the best for you.
The best for me.
It's the truth.
No, the truth is that everyone lied to me.
My entire life is a lie.
- William... - No.
Don't you bloody tell me any more.
God damn it!
Tell me exactly what happened, ye filthy pervert.
Everything.
No.
Go ahead and kill me.
Gentlemen!
Who're you?
Colonel James Fraser, Morgan's Rifles.
And you are?
Corporal Jethro Woodbine,
Dunning's Rangers.
Who's your prisoner?
I am Lord John Grey.
If it's any business of yours.
You're not wearing a uniform.
Are you a soldier?
We got no business with you if you're not.
But if Colonel Fraser's taken you prisoner,
I reckon he has reason.
He is a soldier.
I remember him.
I saw him in Philadelphia,
sittin' on the porch of a house on Chestnut Street,
in his uniform.
This man is not a soldier.
I saw him, plain as day.
He had silver lacing.
He's an officer.
You got anything to say for yourself, Mr. Grey?
Lord John.
And yes, I was a soldier,
but my commission is no longer active,
nor has it been for years.
Is that sufficient, or do you want to know
what I had for breakfast this morning?
He's not a soldier.
He's my prisoner because I wanted to question him.
About what?
A personal matter.
It's none of your concern, Mr. Woodbine.
I will be the judge of what is my business.
How do we know you are who you say you are?
You aren't wearing a uniform either.
Any of you fellas know this man?
No.
Well, then.
If you can't prove who you are,
we'll take your prisoner back to camp
and question him ourselves.
Maybe we ought to take you too.
Take him.
I have business elsewhere.
We are not finished, sir.
No.
We are not.
And I am not bloody sorry!
You said you were Lord John Grey.
I am.
Bloody refer to me, you can call me "my lord"
or "sir," if you like.
What do you want?
Search him.
Firstly, we want to know if General Charles Grey
is any kin to you.
He's a cousin of some sort.
You stated that you don't hold an active commission
in His Majesty's army at present?
That is correct.
Then would you care to explain to me
this document, "my lord"?
I... I have just received that,
and I have not had time to read it,
nor have I accepted the commission.
Told you he's a soldier. Not only a soldier.
He's a spy.
Goin' about not wearin' a uniform.
We could hang him out o' hand, this minute.
- Yes, sir! Yes! - Hang him now.
We're taking him back to camp.
What good would it do to hang him here?
- One less Redcoat? - Bloody Redcoats!
- Yes! - Seems like a good thing to me.
You heard what he said.
General Charles Grey is kin to him.
Colonel Smith will want to hang him in camp
for all to see.
Remember Paoli!
What the devil is Paoli?
Bastard!
Bastard.
Bastard!
Who's a bastard?
I am.
Oh, really?
I'm partial to bastards myself.
What kind of bastard are you?
A wicked one?
An evil one?
A sorry one.
Come in.
You look as though you could do with a drink.
First things first.
Throw off your coat before you suffocate.
I'll, uh...
fetch us a drink, shall I,
while you wash up.
Papa...
you bloody liar.
I need a moment.
Please go away.
Let me pour you a drink,
and you can tell me all about it.
I meant the water for your injured hand,
not your cock.
I will say, you are a true gentleman, though.
I am not.
Is it an insult to call you a gentleman?
You bastard!
- Ned! - I'm sorry.
- I'm sorry! - Ned!
I didn't mean to...
Ah!
Oh, bloody hell.
Get out now!
I'm here to see Colonel Morgan.
Tell him it's Colonel James Fraser.
Colonel Fraser.
Colonel Morgan.
On your way to a wedding?
What?
Ah, this.
My commander's a stickler for proper dress.
I uh, brought something that may be of interest
to our army's high command,
from our friends in France.
Could you spare a quarter hour?
I want you to meet someone.
Look who I've brought you, General.
This'll be Colonel Fraser, who I've mentioned before.
George Washington.
A pleasure, sir.
James Fraser.
Your most obedient servant, sir.
Have I had the honor of your acquaintance once before?
Aye.
We met in Wilmington at the theater.
I was a guest of Governor Tryon.
That dreadful play my wife forced me to attend.
I've never forgiven her.
Colonel Fraser recently returned from Scotland
and brought us some correspondence.
I had occasion to travel to France,
thought you'd be glad to receive word
of the generous contributions to our cause.
Remarkable.
You did this of your own accord?
Aye.
Sit with me, Colonel Fraser.
You're aware that Clinton is preparing
to withdraw from Philadelphia?
I heard an evacuation is already in progress.
I'm impressed with your cunning
in securing these documents.
You took a Loyalist favor
and turned it into a boon for us.
And Colonel Morgan has extolled your bravery
on the battlefield at Saratoga.
Will you do me the honor
of accepting command of a battalion?
I, uh...
I'd be exceedingly honored, sir.
Very well, then.
You're appointed Brigadier General.
Thank ye, sir.
Although, the Congress
will have to approve your appointment,
and there's no guarantee as to what those contentious,
shopkeeping sons of bitches will do.
Congratulations, General Fraser.
Look!
It's William.
William!
Miss Hunter.
Well met.
Mr. Murray.
Thee looks tired, William.
I'm assisting with the evacuation
of Loyalist civilians from the city.
Where have the two of you traveled from?
We went to see some Quakers near Valley Forge
to ask if they'd allow a marriage at their meetin'.
Unfortunately, they weren't amenable,
but we'll find a place.
A marriage?
We are betrothed, Ian and I.
Are you?
Well, I suppose
I must wish you every happiness, then.
Good day.
Wait, we'd like to...
William Ransom!
What the devil does thee mean by this?
I beg your pardon, sir.
That was reprehensible.
I shall leave you.
Miss Hunter.
William, what is it?
Have I done something?
You have not done anything.
You could never do anything that...
But you.
You son of a bitch.
You lied to me too, cousin.
You know.
Yes, I damn well know.
You could have told me.
Know what?
Don't you tell her, God damn it.
Of course he'll tell me.
Or does thee not wish to tell me thyself?
It isna really a disgrace.
You do not think so?
To discover that I'm...
that I am the get of a Scottish criminal?
That I am a bastard?
Criminal, forbye!
Any man might be proud to be the son of James Fraser.
Oh.
That.
What the devil do you mean, "That"?
It doesn't surprise me, that's all.
When I look closely, I can see a resemblance.
Well, it was a bloody surprise to me.
And damn the resemblance!
Ian! Stop!
Both of you, stop!
William!
Take him!
He's under arrest for assaulting an officer.
How dare thee!
This is none of your concern, madam.
Take him. Now.
Thee is a coward and a brute.
What possessed thee to...
What possessed your...
your betrothed?
Did I attack him? No.
Yes, thee did!
Thee struck him in the mouth
without the slightest provocation.
And he hit me without the least warning.
If anyone is a coward, it's...
Don't thee dare call Ian Murray a coward.
I'll call him what I bloody like,
what he bloody is.
Like his goddamned uncle.
Thy father.
Do not call him my father.
If thee does not undo this, William Ransom, I will.
You will what?
You are a Quaker.
You do not believe in violence.
Ergo, you cannot, or at least will not, strike me.
Now thee has doomed thy kinsman,
repudiated thy father,
and caused me to betray my principles.
What next?
Bloody hell.
I'll inform His Lordship.
Thank you, Lieutenant.
It's a shame the chandelier can't be saved.
I never knew my sweet William had such a temper.
Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, it appears.
We're going to have to replace that mirror too.
I'll try, Lady John...
pardon me.
Mistress Fraser.
But it'll take a miracle
to find anyone willing to do the work.
Folks are fleeing the city.
They say the troops are leaving
and the Rebels will be here soon.
Well, let's not borrow trouble just yet.
There's already trouble, Mistress.
A soldier just came to fetch His Lordship,
says the letter he brought yesterday
said General Clinton wanted Lord John to come at once,
and he's wondering why he hasn't arrived.
Why is General Clinton so interested
in Lord John's whereabouts?
He's not currently serving in the army.
Apparently, he is.
The General sent notice of it with the letter.
His Lordship has been recalled to duty.
The prisoner, sir.
Ah!
Well done, Corporal.
You are dismissed.
Sir.
I will not plague you with questions,
as I know you will not wish to answer them,
but in the interest of civil conversation,
should you wish to make any inquiries of me,
I should not take offense.
Well, that's very gracious of you, sir.
Is it that you wish to justify your present allegiance?
For when last we met, in London,
in my sister-in-law's drawing room
over cucumber sandwiches,
you were a captain in the Royal East Kent Regiment,
and not of such a treasonous bent.
That was not my intent, sir.
Oh.
Then I do apologize.
Well, I rather thought you might be curious
as to what I propose to do with you.
Oh, that.
Well, I'd quite forgotten in the surprise of seeing you.
Woodbine seems to think I should be hanged,
both on the charge of spying and on the more serious charge
of being related to the General Charles Grey,
whom I gather committed some atrocity
at a place called Paoli.
Grey and his troops
sneaked up to General Wayne's camp.
Grey didn't want to risk a stray flint sparking
giving them away, so he gave the order
to take out the flints from all the guns
and use the bayonets.
They fell upon the Americans
and killed a hundred men in their beds,
in cold blood.
And "Paoli"?
The name of a tavern nearby.
The Paoli Massacre, they call it.
Do you deny being a spy?
Oh, don't be ridiculous, Smith.
What on Earth would I be doing spying in a deserted wood?
I have no secret papers,
no evidence whatever of spying.
Doubtless you committed to memory
any information you had gained.
I recall you have a prodigious memory.
Did you meet with Colonel Fraser
to pass on information,
or was he passing it to you?
Perhaps you have a treasonous bent as well.
Certainly not.
The encounter was of a...
purely personal nature.
General Wayne will hang you, you know.
Because of Paoli.
Nonsense.
Whatever one may think of the American high command,
I doubt it is composed entirely of fools.
My execution would yield nothing,
whereas my cooperation might be of value.
My brother does hold some small influence in Parliament.
An excellent argument, Lord John,
and one I'm sure would find favor
with General Washington.
I'll send word to him.
Now, let's get you to the medical tent, hmm?
Corporal!
Keep moving.
Jamie?
I thought...
Aye. I'll explain later.
But what's happened to Ian?
Where are they taking him?
You.
Come aside with me.
Now!
What the devil are you doing here?
Close yer mouth and listen,
because I'm gonna tell you what to do.
You are not telling me anything!
Yes, I am.
Ye're gonna find the men with Ian
and tell them to set him free.
If you dinna, I'll go down to the camp,
tell the captain who you are,
and explain the reason for the fight.
Do I make myself clear, lad?
I am expected to return to Philadelphia tonight.
After Ian is released.
Yes!
I will do it.
Yer word.
You have my word.
God damn you, sir.
God damn you to hell.
Nae doubt.
John Grey?
Dr. Hunter.
Colonel Smith has summoned me to attend to thee.
Is thee able to look up?
Now try to look down.
There is a great deal of swelling.
Whoever struck thee did so with a good deal of force.
How bad is the pain?
Everything from my scalp to my chin hurts.
There's bleeding on the surface of the eye.
Thy eyeball is crimson, as is the lining of thy eyelid.
It's rather... dramatic.
How long till it goes away?
Between a week and a month to clear.
Thee will need to wear an eye patch.
I can make thee one.
My worry is the inability to move the eye.
I-I fear thee has a fracture of the bony orbit,
which is trapping the ocular muscle.
I do wish thy wife were here.
She has much greater understanding...
My wife?
Oh.
Oh, Claire isn't my wife anymore.
Jamie Fraser isn't dead.
He's the one who hit me.
But I was asking for it.
Doctor!
What do you say, Doctor?
Can he be moved?
It would be dangerous.
A further extravasation of blood into the brain...
I cannot answer for the consequences
should he be moved abruptly.
Very well, then.
If Mohammed cannot go to the mountain,
the mountain will jolly well have to come here.
I'll send a note to General Wayne.
Do what you can to see that he's coherent.
Why?
Get it done.
Come along, Ellesmere. Come on.
Let's make a few more memories
to see us through the long nights up north, eh?
Yeah.
Ever buggered a girl?
Too dear for my purse.
What you want's a girl that hates it.
They clamp down, trying to get rid of you.
But they can't.
Then you take her hand
and make her reach back and feel you.
God, the squirming.
Milk you like a dairymaid, she will.
Mind, you don't want one who's used to it.
You want her tight.
But then you don't want one
who's never had it before, either.
Better if she knows what's coming, eh?
I'll take this one, please.
For the night.
Arabella's mine.
I'm sure Madge will find
another young lady to accommodate you.
I'm before you, sir.
He is, Captain Harkness.
He's already offered for the girl,
as you hadn't made up your mind...
I'll have her.
For the night.
I will not hurt you.
I didn't mean to, last time.
You didn't hurt me.
You spoilt my best gown, though,
and a decanter of wine.
Cost me a beating and a week's wages.
Forgive me.
There is little I can do about the beating, but I...
I will certainly pay for the wine and the gown.
I truly am sorry.
Well...
William, you said your name is?
Yes.
Is your name really Arabella?
No.
I am a fancy piece, though,
and Madge thinks the fancies should have names like...
well, like ladies.
I am indeed acquainted with more than one Arabella.
Though, one of them is six,
and the other's 82.
Do you want me to send for wine?
Only, if you want to do anything,
I really think you'd best stay off the drink.
I don't want wine, no.
But nor do I want to... to...
It is not true.
I- I do want to.
Very much.
But I'm not going to.
Why not?
You've paid well over anything you might want to do tonight.
Including buggery, if that's your pleasure.
You think I would save you from Captain Harkness,
just to do it myself?
Men don't often think of somethin'
until another mentions it,
and then they are all eagerness to try it themselves.
You must have a most indifferent opinion
of gentlemen, madam.
But I do take your point.
Well, that's a novelty.
It's usually the other way around.
My father once told me he knew a madam
who assured him that a good night's sleep
is the best gift you can give a whore.
I'll sleep here.
Runs in the family, then, does it?
Frequenting brothels?
He's right, though.
Do you really mean that you intend for me to sleep?
Well, you can sing songs
or stand on your head, if you prefer.
I do not propose to, uh...
molest you.
Beyond that, your conduct is quite up to you.
Arabella?
What?
What is your real name?
Jane.
Good night, then, Jane.
Come and get into bed, you idiot.
What's the matter?
You're wiggling as though you've got
tadpoles in your britches.
No.
I will not bother you.
I meant it.
If you bother me, I'll tell you to stop.
How's that?
No. It's a matter of honor.
Unhand my...
Unhand me, if you please.
I'm a bastard.
Do you understand?
The only honor I have left is my word.
I must keep it.
Why did you make me break my word?
Ever think maybe a whore has a sense of honor too?
John, is thee feeling better?
I brought thee a bit of stew.
Thee may eat as much as is comfortable.
Oh, thank you.
Here, I brought thee a spoon.
The stew is boiling.
Be careful.
Thee must go.
What? Why?
Colonel Smith has sent for General Wayne.
They're going to hang thee.
But he assured me they would...
He told me that thee is worth more dead than alive.
There's no time.
Thee must leave. Tonight.
Hide in my wagon.
I'm going for supplies tomorrow.
- No. - There will be no suspicion...
No, I couldn't possibly put you at risk.
I will go on foot.
But thee must...
The main road lies southwest of the camp,
about four miles away.
God go with thee.
There you are.
Where the hell have you been?
Ye look well, Sassenach.
You don't.
How did you get in?
Mrs. Figg let me in on her way out for the night.
Ye went to bed with John Grey, aye?
Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly.
He told me ye did.
He told me he had carnal knowledge of ye.
Then he asked me to kill him.
Why would he lie about such a thing?
I suppose "carnal knowledge" is...
a very reasonable description of what happened.
Where are you going?
Jamie.
Was it here?
Yes, but going to bed, no.
For one thing, well, it happened,
as far as I can remember, on the floor.
And for another, well, that term makes it seem like
we made some sort of decision to make love to one another,
and that's not what happened at all.
Please, let's go back downstairs.
What did happen?
If you really must know...
I was sitting there,
drinking brandy and...
trying to justify killing myself.
I ran out of brandy and...
I was thinking whether or not
I would go looking for some more
or drink an entire bottle of laudanum.
That's when John came in.
He did say drink had been taken.
Yes.
Quite a lot.
He seemed to be as drunk as I was, but...
he somehow managed to still be on his feet.
He had the look of a man
about to throw himself off a cliff.
And then he said,
"I will not mourn him alone tonight."
And?
And he didn't.
I couldn't bear to be alone,
and I couldn't bear for him to be alone,
and I... I...
I don't know exactly what happened,
but I...
I grabbed him, I think,
because I very much needed somebody
to touch me in that moment.
And he obliged ye, I take it.
Did he bugger you?
You absolute bastard.
You didn't kill him, did you?
Would ye mind if I did?
Yes, I bloody well would.
No, but you... you didn't.
I know you wouldn't.
No.
Ye don't know that.
And I would have been within my rights.
No, you wouldn't.
You didn't have any rights.
You were dead.
I loved ye since I saw you, Sassenach.
I will love ye forever.
It doesna matter if ye sleep with the whole British army...
well, no, it would matter,
but it wouldna stop me from loving you.
Well, I didn't think it would.
I was under the impression he only told me
because he was certain you would.
Well, I would have.
But I might have waited for you to come home
and have a bath and some supper.
When was the last time you ate?
Dinna change the subject, Sassenach.
I understand, but I want...
I need to know what happened.
You understand?
Aye.
Ye both thought I was dead.
And I ken what ye're like when ye're drunk, Sassenach.
How dare you!
Am I no' the aggrieved party here?
No, you aren't.
I didna mean to imply ye're a drunkard, Sassenach.
It's only ye... ye think wi' yer body, Claire.
Ye always have.
Oh, I'm a...
what am I now?
A whore?
I've taken ye to bed a thousand times at least.
Did ye not think I was paying attention?
Two or three thousand times at least.
And no.
When I lost you, after Culloden...
I kent ye weren't dead, but that made it all the worse.
I told ye about Mary MacNab, how she came to me in the cave.
But I didn't blame you for that
or ask you for any of the gory details.
Well, maybe ye weren't jealous.
I am.
I would tell ye, though, how it was,
if ye wanted to know it.
I'd tell ye it was tender and sad.
Both of us mourning things that were lost.
Well, it wasn't tender.
And it wasn't sad.
It should have been, but it wasn't.
I don't know what it was.
I don't think I had any conscious thoughts.
Well, what did he give ye, then?
Something to hit.
At least in the beginning.
Ye hit him?
Yes.
No, I was...
I was hitting you.
And it was... it was a blur.
I don't know what happened next.
There should be a word for what John gave me,
but I-I don't know what that is yet.
But violence was a part of it.
I was numb.
I couldn't bear to feel.
But he could.
He had more courage than I did.
And he made me feel that.
And... and that's why I hit him.
It was triage.
You... you do triage.
You stop the bleeding first.
You stop the bleeding or the patient dies.
And that's what he did, he...
he stopped it by placing his grief over mine.
Damn him.
He is all right, isn't he?
Aye.
Well uh,
I'm sure he is.
Well, where the bloody hell is he?
General Clinton has sent for him.
They've reactivated his commission.
What the hell did you do to him, Jamie?
I hit him.
More than once.
He said something, and I hit him.
He said the two of ye werna making love to one another.
We weren't. I told you. We were...
Fucking me, he said.
It's the truth.
Jamie, talk to me.
When Geneva died and it was my fault...
it was a knife in my heart.
Then William...
the bairn cut me right open,
spilled my guts out into my hands.
That bloody Englishman bandaged me...
wi' his friendship.
No.
No, I didna kill him.
I... I dinna ken if I'm glad of it or no',
but I didna.
Well, I'm glad.
I'll not say I dinna mind this, because I do.
And I'll not say I willna make a fuss
about this later, because I will.
But there is nothing in this world or the next
that can take ye from me or me from you.
D'ye disagree?
No.
Good,
because it willna do ye any good if ye did.
I have one more question.
Are ye my wife?
How could I not be?
Then I'm done with talking.
- Here? - Shh.
There's no one home.
May as well be hung for sheep as lambs.
Wait.
Kiss me first.
Are ye in a position to make demands, d'ye think?
Yes, I am.
I'm your wife.
God's blood.
Guards!
The prisoner has escaped!
Find him!
After him!
Spread out!
*CREDITS*