02x11 - Vengeance Is Mine

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Outlander". Aired August 2014 - current.*

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Follows the story of Claire Randall, a married combat nurse from 1945 who is mysteriously swept back in time to 1743, where she is immediately thrown into an unknown world where her life is threatened. When she is forced to marry Jamie Fraser, a chivalrous and romantic young Scottish warrior, a passionate relationship is ignited that tears Claire's heart between two vastly different men in two irreconcilable lives.
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02x11 - Vengeance Is Mine

Post by bunniefuu »

Claire: Previously...

Friend of yours?


Aye, Hugh Munro.

Ah!

Claire: Leave her alone!

(GRUNTING)

Mary, she was assaulted and r*ped.

She'll be a spinster till the end of her days.

Judith, you'll pay for your treachery.

Murtagh.

Here we all are, all supporters of the Jacobite cause.

That makes you traitor to the crown.

Perhaps you have some concern for this English lady's honor.

All right! I will tell you whatever you wish.

Strike, and strike hard.

Now we shall not return unless we bring victory back with us.

(MEN SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)

(ALL GRUNTING)

(expl*si*n BOOMS)

Angus!

(CHOKING AND GURGLING)

(TENSE MUSIC)


♪ Sing me a song ♪
♪ Of a lass that is gone ♪
♪ Say, could that lass ♪
♪ Be I? ♪
♪ Merry of soul ♪
♪ She sailed on a day ♪
♪ Over the sea ♪
♪ To Skye ♪
♪ Billow and breeze ♪
♪ Islands and seas ♪
♪ Mountains of rain and sun ♪
♪ All that was good ♪
♪ All that was fair ♪
♪ All that was me ♪
♪ Is gone ♪
♪ Sing me a song ♪
♪ Of a lass that is gone ♪
♪ Say, could that lass ♪
♪ Be I? ♪
♪ Merry of soul ♪
♪ She sailed on a day ♪
♪ Over the sea ♪
♪ To Skye ♪


(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Claire: The Jacobite army had moved steadily south during the months since Prestonpans. We had acquired much-needed a*tillery along the way, taken the English garrison at Carlisle, and successfully occupied Manchester. Despite this, the anticipated sympathetic uprising from the Scottish lowlands and northern England had so far not materialized. We were now encamped in northern England, awaiting further orders from Prince Charles.



Ah.



Murray: Your Royal Highness,


I am aware how painful this must be for you, but the truth is often vexing.

We must turn back.

And I say we shall not.

Now, London lies within our grasp, and all we have to do is reach out and take it.

John?

This is no time for silence. Speak, man.

I'm sorry, Your Royal Highness.

As you know, the Lord General and myself are seldom of like mind, but I fear, in this instance, we speak with one voice.

I must say, this is a damned inconvenient time to be conciliatory.

And I would say the same to you, My Lord General.

Fraser, you have proved to possess a sound m*llitary mind, but I will not have my decision challenged by a junior officer.

Do I make myself clear, sir?

And what of our prince's decision?

Do we not all serve him and his noble cause?

Our orders were to march into England and take London.

We are but five days from reaching that city, and now you order us to... to turn back and... and retreat to Scotland?

Five days, gentlemen.

A mere five days is all what stands between us and the completion of God's will.

It's not the five days that concerns me, but the three British armies that stand between us and London, and we don't bloody know where any of them are.

We're not likely to meet all three at once, My Lord.

But if we are shrewd and lucky, we might manage to slip past them all.

Aye, and if we don't, the British number 30,000 troops, while we have mustered a mere five.

One good fight, we'd be too weakened to carry on.

That w*r brings risk should come at no surprise.

But if we turn back now, all hope that currently resides in the hearts of our supporters will be filled with doubt and fear.

Is that the one?

(WHIMPERS)

Good.

Ah, this won't take long.

I promise.

(GROANING)

Ah!

Ah, oh.

Good job.

(MOANING)

Here.

Dinna fash yourself, son.

My guid freen Angus, he lost his front teeth when he was no' but a wee lad.

A cow kicked 'em straight down his throat.

Says he didna shite for a week for fear o' being bitten.

(CHUCKLES)

(SPITS)

(SOLEMN MUSIC)

Claire: Right, who's next?



I came here.

I sailed from France to raise an army, this army.

It was God's will that I do so, and since then, His hand has ever been with us.

This precious chance of victory, if we spurn His divine gift, there is no guarantee that it will be offered again.



So is there no one among you still willing to stand by your prince, your rightful king, and your God?






One man.



Is that all I can count on?

(CLEARS THROAT)

One man.



It is intolerable!

I'd rather be run through by a British bayonet and have my body buried in an unmarked grave than turn back after we have come this far!

But I see now that I am betrayed by both friends and allies.

You do what you must, but may God damn you to hell for it.

I have nothing more to say.

(FOREBODING MUSIC)

Claire: It's all right, really. Not everyone has to get a tooth pulled.



Man: Come on, lad. Move. Move!

What did you say to him?

Nothing that isn'a true.

(DOOR RATTLES OPEN)

Your Royal Highness.

Sir.

Sir.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Sorry, Sassenach.

I must give the prince some credit.

Turns out he has a fighting man's heart, even if his generals don't.

It's not your fault.

Even if you had talked them into taking London, might not have been able to hold it.

No.

But if we had marched on London, then things would be different to what you said happened in your history books.

It would mean that just maybe history could be changed, but now...

My Laird.

My Laird, is it true?

Are we turning back?

Aye.

We're going back across the border.

Home for winter.

Are they... are the British after us, then?

Are they close?

I canna say, Ross, but I'll see you're safe.

I promise all of ye.

I'll see ye home to Lallybroch.

(SOMBER MUSIC)



And you, Sassenach, I'll see you safe no matter what happens.



(LAUGHTER)

Here you go.

That's it, then.

All right, all right.



(THUNDER RUMBLING FAINTLY)

(INHALES)



Hmm.

Are you all right?

Aye. (CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

Just wanted to watch you sleep in peace for a bit.

Hmm.

Must be as cold as ice.

Get into bed.

(CHUCKLES)

Hmm.

(SIGHS)

What was it that you were saying?

Ach, nothing.

There's no' much I can say waking without it sounding daft and foolish, Sassenach.

I can say things while you sleep.

Your dreams will ken the truth of them.

(RAIN PATTERING LIGHTLY)

Hmm.

(TENDER MUSIC)

♪ ♪


(DOOR RATTLES OPEN)

Read this.

(PAPER RUSTLING)

"My Lord Broch Tuarach, you are hereby ordered to proceed at once with your men to.... Inverness?" What's this?

Exile is what it is.

They want rid of us, of you.

O'Sullivan fears that you have too much influence over the prince, and Murray, oh, he did naught to defend you.

They want you and me gone and gone now.

Bollock-less bastards.

"Proceed in advance of the army. Arrange winter quarters and obtain provisions."

Well, how? With what money?

Oh, aye, I asked O'Sullivan that myself.

He just stuck his big, fat Irish nose in the air and said that His Highness's loyal supporters would of course extend credit to his representative.

Of course.

I'll speak to the prince myself.

He's gone.

Murray spirited him away at dawn.

The prince also took your horse.

He said he knew you wouldn't mind.

(TENSE MUSIC)



Jamie: In that case, Sassenach, how long since you visited Inverness?

♪ ♪

Hold still.

Ah.

Ah.

You big bairn.

Angus'd rip that out with his front teeth.

He didn't have front teeth.

He'd have used his gums then.

Oh.

I wish I could give you a tetanus sh*t.

I'd take a sh*t at anything just now.

Whiskey's the best I've got.

Ah!

(g*nsh*t)

(GROANS)

(g*nshots) Burghers!

Man: It was over there!

Man: To the south!

(SHOUTING IN GAELIC)

Redcoats. Grab your arms!

Grab your arms! Scatter to the woods!

Wait!

(g*nsh*t)

There's no time. Go.

Dougal: Rupert!

Rupert, you're with me! Go!

Rupert, you're with me! Come on!

Meet at the crossroads.

(g*nf*re)

Go.

Go to the crossroads!

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

Go! (SHOUTS IN GAELIC)



(g*nshots)

Show her down!

Come on, Sassenach.



(DRAMATIC MUSIC)



Jamie: I think we've lost them.

♪ ♪

(HORSE WHINNIES)

(g*nsh*t)



Jamie: Rupert! MAN: Hurry up, damn you!

Hold on.

Wait.

Man: Faster!

Ride!

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)



Bloody!

(HORSE NEIGHS)

I'm with ye, lad. I'm with you.

(DRAMATIC BAGPIPE MUSIC)



(SPEAKING GAELIC)

Quick! Quickly!



Man: They went this way! Come on!



(WATER TRICKLING)



Are you sure it's wise for us to stop?

If not, Claire assures me Rupert will die.

I haven't seen any redcoats for some time.

(TENSE MUSIC)

Wait for my signal.



(BOTH GRUNT)

(SPEAKING GAELIC)

Sorry, Laird.

I didna ken it was you.

It's fine.

(WHISTLES)

Where are your horses?

Hidden in the woods beyond.

Wallace is standing guard.

We waited at the crossroads, but...

Aye, it's all right.

Make sure ours are hidden as well.

What happened to him?

I decided to take a closer look at a musket ball.

Claire: Here, Fergus. Take out the whiskey and the bowl. Clear the altar and get him on it.

Man: Okay.

I have to take out the b*llet.

It's a miracle it hasn't shifted into your brain.

It's a miracle they didna sh**t me in my good eye.

Damn it, where's my Kn*fe?

My lady.

Well, where'd you get that?

Milord gave it to me.

Claire: Well, give me the whiskey.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

Hold still.

(RUPERT GRUNTING)



(RUPERT GROANS)

(GRUNTS)



(RUPERT SCREAMING)

(SOMBER MUSIC)



Claire: All right. Up you get.

Oh, well, I suppose one eye is better than nane.

Here, hold this.

(GRUNTS)

I'll get you a black eye patch.

You'll be like a proper pirate.

Pirates have eye patches?

And peg legs and a parrot.

What in the name of the wee man are you heaving about?

Mm, oh, never mind.

(GRUNTS)

Jamie.

(TENSE MUSIC)

Jamie: Blow out the candle.

(SPEAKS GAELIC)

(BLOWS)

What is it?



Murtagh: What is that?

(FOREBODING MUSIC)



You in the church!

We have your men and your horses!

I order you to surrender in the name of His Majesty!

Rupert: Redcoats?

Aye.

Oh, Christ.



Lay down your arms and come out, or we shall fire the roof!

There's not that many of them.

We could stay and fight.

No, they could fire the thatch in seconds.

Anyone not picked off running out the door will get burnt to death when the roof caves in.

He's right.

We'll never make it.

No.

Captain: You have two minutes to decide, gentlemen!

I'm the one with a price on my head.

Maybe I can bargain with them, give myself up in exchange for your freedom.

Och, stop being such a hero.

If they take ye this time, it's a choice between the hangman and the headsman.

Better to stand and fight.

Jamie: Everyone here is under my protection.

If I can save you all with my surrender...

I'll do it.

Wait.

Perhaps there's another way.

Och.

Jamie: No. There isn't, Claire, and we don't have time to...

Help!

Save me!

Bloody hell, they've got an Englishwoman in there.

Save me! I'm... I'm a British subject!

Stop!

Have you gone mad?

Look, say I'm your hostage.

They won't fire the place with me inside.

Exchange me.

Use me to bargain with them.

It worked the last time.

With a lad.

These are soldiers.

No.

Never.

Captain: You in the church, if you have an Englishwoman in there, send her out now!

Give up our hostage?

Not likely. We'll rather...

(GRUNTS)

Claire's right.

The soldiers will not hurt her.

They'll escort her to a place of safety, then let her go.

I will not give you up!

Captain: Bring out the woman, or we shall set fire to the thatch and burn you out!

Yes, you will, you stubborn Scot.

I will not.

Am I not Lady Broch Tuarach?

Are these men not my responsibility too?

(TENSE MUSIC)

♪ ♪


(g*ns CLICKING)

(TENSE PERCUSSIVE MUSIC)



You'll release the Englishwoman, surrender your horses and weapons.

And you leave with the lady.

I need your word of honor.

Agreed. Your hostage, what is her name?

Mistress Beauchamp is her name, a widow we encountered along the way.

We took her under our protection.

Your protection?

I know the reputation of Highlanders, sir.

I must tell you, if she has been harmed, all agreements are void.

(g*ns CLICKING)



(DOOR CREAKS AND RATTLES)

You're a bad liar, Sassenach.

Go out there wi' that look on your face, they'll ken something's amiss.

(DOOR RATTLES)

Well, how am I supposed to look?

I dinna ken.

Less... guilty.

Oh, perhaps you should faint, me lady.

Mm, den they... they can't ask you question right away.

Off you go, son.

They'll most likely take you to the garrison in Hazelmere.

It's the nearest British outpost in the area.

They won't want a woman weighing 'em down any more than is absolutely necessary, so come on.

We'll make our way there, fetch you back.

All right.

We need to leave.

(SOMBER MUSIC)



Wait.

Now, you said it yerself. You're a known man.

If they recognize Red Jamie, they won't honor the bargain they've struck, so...

He's right.

We will find each other.

Trust in that.

Come on.



Behold the Jacobite army.

That'll be enough, Lieutenant.

Is she all right?

She's fainted from terror.

I charge you personally with the lady's protection, sir.



I urge you all, return to your homes!

Resume your lives as peaceful, loyal subjects of the crown!

Oh, aye.

I'll be glad to, as soon as the true king is wearing that crown.



Oh.

Where am I?

You're safe, ma'am.

You're under our protection now.

That's a relief.

Have you been harmed in any way?

(METAL CLINKING)

No.

No, I'm quite all right.

The lady says she's unharmed.

Yes, thank you, Lieutenant.

Mount up!

(FOREBODING MUSIC)

Thank you.



Jamie.

I'll look for a horse along the way.

You and Murtagh gather the rest of the men. Head north.

Ye dinna need two to play shepherd.

He's right. I'm coming with you.

No.

No, you'll both help me best by seeing the men safe.

I'll meet ye in Keswick, once I've got Claire back.

You can order them. Ye cannot order me.

We'll go and find her together.

You'll need help getting her out of the garrison.

If it canna be me, Murtagh will do well enough.

Godspeed, lad.

Bring our lass back safe.

Rupert: Jamie.

When you find her, give her a wink for me, aye?
(STIRRING FIDDLE MUSIC)



Claire: It didn't take long to lose my sense of direction as we rode through the night. I knew I ought to be leaving some sort of sign for him to follow, but unfortunately, I was short of bread crumbs.


We'll stop for the night in Crich, Mrs. Beauchamp.

The horses have gone as far as they can.

(TENSE MUSIC)

♪ ♪


(LAUGHTER AND INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Man: Right outside.



Man: Mugs of beer all around, and your lady too.

Hey, we'll need food as well.

Here you go, ma'am.

Thank you.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

MAN: Good, aye?

Man: (SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY)

Dispatch has just arrived for you, sir.

Lieutenant.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)



You look like you could do with warming up.

(CHUCKLES)



Ma'am.

It's time to go, madam.



Where's the captain?

He received orders to proceed to Keswick, and he left during the night.

Don't worry.

Captain has said I was to escort you to Bellmont before we rejoin him.

Bellmont?

Bellmont?

But I thought we were going to the garrison at Hazelmere.

Fortunes of w*r.

Bellmont's closer and along the road to Keswick.

I wouldn't worry.

It's a big house owned by a rich Englishman.

He'll give you refuge, I'm sure.

(TENSE MUSIC)



(GRUNTS)



Ah!

Get away there.

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

Lieutenant Barnes, really.

I'm shocked that a king's officer would behave in such an unchristian manner.

Ma'am, I thought he meant to do you harm.

Are you all right, sir?

I apologize for the lieutenant's beastly behavior.

Here, let me help you up.

Jamie's looking for me at Hazelmere.

I still don't understand why we're going to Bellmont instead of Hazelmere.

Barnes: Captain's orders, ma'am, as I said.

Very well, then.

Bellmont it is.

(STIRRING MUSIC)





Man: Attention!

(TENSE MUSIC)



Who did you say lives here?

(DOOR RATTLES AND CREAKS)

Do I have the honor of addressing the Duke of Sandringham?

(FOREBODING MUSIC)



You do, indeed.

But the honor is all mine, Lieutenant.

I do so treasure any opportunity to aid one of the king's officers, especially in these difficult times.

How may I be of assistance to you?

This is for you, Your Grace, from my commander.

He requests your courtesy in giving temporary shelter to Mrs. Beauchamp, an English gentlewoman we rescued last night.

Oh!

My dear Mrs. Beauchamp, I should be delighted to offer you the hospitality of my humble home.

I thank you, Your Grace.

My commander will be most obliged.

Good day, ma'am.



(DOOR RATTLES AND THUDS)

I need a drink and something to eat, and so do you, from your appearance.

Rescued, did he say?

Rescued from what?

Rabid bears?

Highlanders.

Much the same thing.

Hmm.

You mentioned a drink?



(HORSE NICKERS)

I'll take the gray one.

You take the other.

So, now we're traitors, murderers, and horse thieves.

Tell me, does it ever occur to you that taking Claire to wife might not ha' been the wisest thing you ever did?

No.

Hmm.

It doesn't.

And then they suddenly changed their minds and brought me here.

You have only the one servant, Your Grace?

Well, I do still have my valet.

But, I'm afraid, things are a bit tight at the moment.

The cook is only here three days a week.

You've brightened my outlook considerably by being here.

(CHUCKLES)

Why did you pretend not to recognize me?

It's not that I'm not grateful, but I was afraid you'd just blurt out my real name.

Oh, the last thing I would do, my dear, is to blurt.

But how could I possibly commit such a lovely woman to the tower?

So damp.

Quite took all the curls out of my wig the last time I was there.

But I suppose you don't have to suffer these inconveniences, do you?

When were you a guest at the Tower of London?

And for what?

Only a misunderstanding, I can assure you.

Don't suppose this misunderstanding had something to do with your loyalties.

Quite.

Which is why the army has virtually made a ring around my estate.

What, more soldiers than there are out front?

Oh, my, yes.

They think they're being inconspicuous, but really, with those coats?

They claim that they're resting and resupplying before they move on.

In fact, I'm being watched.

Every entrance of this house is being watched.

I'm still suspected of being a Jacobite.

I assume that your dashing husband must be intent on rescuing you even as we speak.

It would be safe to assume so, yes.

Excellent.

Well, as I want to be rescued too, I'm coming with you.

And that couldn't happen if I had told the soldiers your name.

I'm sorry.

You're what?

You must know.

You've always known that in my heart I'm a Jacobite.

I'm reasonably sure you don't have a heart.

Now, why would Jamie rescue you?

Because I doubt that the dear lad knows where you actually are.

How could he?

The only way that he could know your location is through my good offices.

Really?

Are you so sure about that?

Perhaps he's riding through the front gates in this very moment.

Oh, I certainly hope he isn't, because if so, he'll find himself in a trap.

So what do you propose?

I know a man who can get notes past the soldiers.

In return, though, I must have your word that Jamie will extract me from my present situation and deposit me in some safe haven.

I'm confident that Jamie will honor his wife's promise.

Fine.

But I'll need some paper and a quill.

Follow me.

Gaelic?

Do you speak that barbarous tongue?

We both know that messages are frequently intercepted.

But if you don't trust me, I'm certainly happy to write it in English and just hope that your messenger boy doesn't get caught.

You wound me, madam.

Your messenger is not to go anywhere near Jamie.

He is to deliver this to a beggar named Munro, who can be found on the road somewhere between Crich and the garrison at Hazelmere.

If you get this message to him, he will find Jamie.

(DOOR RATTLES)

Claire!

Mary.

I knew I was forgetting something.

Such a happy reunion.

My lovely goddaughter has some exciting news of her own.

She's to be married.

You're his goddaughter?

Well, she's certainly not a blood relative.

I'm sure you two have a great deal to say to each other.

I have some correspondence to dispatch if you'll excuse me.

(SOLEMN MUSIC)

(DOOR RATTLES)

Come with me.



Claire: Mary, what are we doing down here?

This is the only place I can speak without feeling like I'm being listened to or watched.



Oh, Claire, you have to help me.

I can't marry Mr. Granger.

I just can't.

Who's Mr. Granger?

The man my godfather's promised me to.

A wealthy merchant who wishes to attach himself to the family of a duke, even if it does mean marrying soiled goods.

A loyalist, I'll wager.

Yes, I suppose so.

Of course.

Trying to play the British side by having his goddaughter marry a supporter of the king.

I don't care why. I just can't do it.

Calm down.

I will speak to your godfather.

But he just made a decision that means you might not have to marry a loyalist.

Oh, would you?

Thank you, Claire.

Thank you so very much.



Munro?

Are you Munro?

Good evening to you, sir.

Good evening.

I'm looking for a beggar called Munro.

I understand he may be on this road.

I'm not likely to be asking the names of beggars.

But have you seen any beggars on this road?

I passed an odd little fellow in a slouch hat and a raggedy coat about half a mile back.

Could have been a beggar.

Much obliged.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)



Hey!

You there!

Are you Munro?

Wait! Wait!

Munro!

I'm looking for... (GRUNTS)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(GRUNTING)

I've been sent by the Duke of Sandringham to give you a letter.

Ah.

Oh.

(UPBEAT MUSIC)

It was written by a lady, Claire Beauchamp, for a James Fraser.

(GASPS)



Customarily, I'd be given a tip on delivery.



Mrs. Beauchamp.

Tired of Mary so soon?

Not that I blame you.

Actually, I wanted to speak with you about your plans for her marriage.

No discussion is necessary.

The die is cast. The bargain is struck.

You'll be pleased to hear that I've been speaking outside to the commander, who's agreed to withdraw the soldiers.

But I thought they were here keeping an eye on you.

Well, they may not be very far away or for very long, but they will go.

I mean, I am still a duke.

(FOREBODING MUSIC)

(WHIMPERING)



Are you all right, madam?

You seem perturbed in some way.

How long has this man been in your employ?

Well, I hired him in Paris.

You're not thinking of stealing him away for your husband.

Danton is very loyal to me.

When did you hire him in Paris?

What an odd q... (DOOR CREAKING)



She recognizes you!

Your Grace, I promise you I took all precautions.

(SCOFFS)

You!

You put them up to it?

Your own goddaughter?

Yes, well, that was unfortunate.

There was never any intent that you should be k*lled, Mrs. Fraser.

That was the comte's original desire, to be sure.

Comte?

The Comte St. Germain?

Yes. Ah...

I understand that you k*lled him yourself.

I'd dearly love to have the details of that encounter.



I owed him a rather large sum of money, you see, and I had no immediate means of payment, but I was horrified by the notion of disposing of such a delightful woman.

Such a waste.

So I managed to persuade Monsieur le Comte that simply having you r*ped was sufficient revenge for the loss of his goods.

You should really be very grateful to me.

You could so easily be dead by now.

And you still could be, madam, easily.

No, you're going to regret sending your guards away once Jamie gets here.

I didn't send them very far away.

When I told the captain that I was expecting Red Jamie, he made himself a bit less conspicuous to help lure your husband into my trap.

Proving myself loyal to the crown by turning over Red Jamie and his traitorous English wife offers a much more permanent way of correcting misperception of my motives than going on the run.



You could be hanged side by side.

So romantic.



Take Mrs. Fraser to her room.



And lock her in.



(DOOR RATTLES CLOSED)

(HORSE HOOVES THUDDING)



(GRUNTING)

Jamie: Hugh.

(GRUNTS)

(SPEAKS GAELIC)

(GRUNTS) Ho-ho.

Oh.

What the devil are you doing here?

(GRUNTING)

Eh-ah-way.

(GRUNTING)

Aye.

(GRUNTS)

What's that now?

I dunno.

Says it's a letter from Claire.

(GRUNTING)

He got it from a messenger.

Ah.

Is that supposed to be Gaelic?

At least, it's trying to be.

What's that word?

"Sighdran."

That's not a word.

She means soldiers.

(SPEAKS GAELIC)

I think she means soldiers around the house.

The word order's all back to front.

You can give her lessons later.

"S."

She's with Sandringham?

Ah.

(SPEAKS GAELIC)

That man's the original bad penny.

Mm.

You know where Bellmont House is?

Ha. Ah, ah-ooh-ooh.

We go, huh?

Aye.

(GRUNTS)

She's even misspelled "help."

(TENSE MUSIC)

♪ ♪


Claire: Hugh?

(PANTING)

(LOCK CLICKS)

Mary!

What are you doing?

Why are you locked in?

I don't have time to explain everything now.

I have to get out of here and get word to Jamie.

Take me with you.

All right, but you have to help me.

I think Jamie is on his way, but there are soldiers hiding in the grounds.

I'll go out through the kitchen, you go out the front way.

There's a beggar in the garden.

A beggar?

Yes, but he's a friend.

His name is Hugh Munro.

If you find him first, then you have to tell him to warn Jamie.

It's a trap.

He can't come anywhere near the house.

Me, go out in the night to meet a filthy beggar?

Oh, Claire, I couldn't. I couldn't possibly.

For God sakes! Fine.

Then stay here, but be quiet.

(TENSE MUSIC)

♪ ♪ ♪


(DOOR CREAKING SOFTLY)

(DOOR CLICKS)

Good evening, my dear.

Do forgive the informality.

I wasn't expecting a guest.

Nothing worse than going to bed on an empty stomach, don't you agree?

Do join me.

(FOREBODING MUSIC)



Did you truly strike down the comte in front of the king himself, or was it at the king's order?

It was an accident.

I doubt that.

The Comte is a most distasteful man.

No sense of humor whatever.



Perhaps I shall have something to eat.

It's going to be a very long night.

The time will move swiftly with such a charming companion.

(GRUNTS)

One rumor was that you cast a spell on the Comte and that his heart just stopped.

(DOOR RATTLES OPEN)

What the devil are you doing here?

Uh... uh... I just wanted something to eat.

(HAND THUDS, RATTLING)

(HUFFS)

Just go to bed.

Now.



Lady Broch Tuarach and I are having a most amusing conversation.



(STIRRING MUSIC)



(GASPS)

(GASPS)

(GRUNTS)



Claire's downstairs in the kitchen.

Tell Jamie it's a trap.

Where are you going, little mouse?

Ah! (GRUNTING)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

Ah, let go of me, you brute, or I'll tell my godfather how you grabbed me.

(TENSE MUSIC)



(STIRRING MUSIC)


Stand and watch, Hugh.



(MUFFLED GRUNTING)

(SOLDIER GRUNTS)



My personal favorite has you turning a broomstick into a poisonous serpent and commanding it to att*ck the comte, sort of like a latter-day Pharaoh and Moses...

Lady Moses, I mean.

Your Grace, I found Mademoiselle out on the front steps.

I can't marry Mr. Granger.

I... I tried to run away, but it was so dark, and I was so scared, and I was afraid of the soldiers.

And I just couldn't...

For God sake!

Just go to bed!

Now, where was I?

Um, oh, yes, the snake story.

Well, now... good Lord.

(GRUNTS)

(GASPING)

Claire!

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

Throw your w*apon away and back off!



(CLAIRE GASPS)



(GRUNTS)

(BOTH GRUNTING)

This is the man who att*cked us in Paris!



Jamie: Claire. DANTON: (GRUNTS)

Sandringham: Now, now, now, now, now come on.

Le-let's all just calm down and discuss this thing rationally like level-headed people.

It wasn't my fault.

He made me do it.

It's true.

He arranged the att*ck to pay off one of his debts to St. Germain.

(GROANS)

Y-y-y...

I-i-it could have been so much worse, believe me.

You can't imagine what the comte had in mind.

I just told Danton to terrify the women.

You know me, Jamie.

I'd never countenance such a vulgar thing as a r*pe.

That's a lie.

r*pe was your idea.

Aye, aye, I do know you, Your Grace.

(BOTH GRUNTING)

You'll say whatever to whoever to save your own skin.

Sandringham: Well, that stops today.

Now, I... I swear it.

I promise.



Aye, as you say.

(WHIMPERS)



(GRUNTS)

(GASPS)

(GROANS)

(GROANING)

Mary!

(WHIMPERING)



(GASPS)



(GASPING)



(AXE CLATTERS)

(SQUISHING)

I kept my word.

I lay your vengeance at your feet.

I think we'd better go.

(SOLEMN MUSIC)

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