Wiglander
The opening this week is of a wig being fastidiously primped and dusted, but hilariously, the servant then proceeds to knock it onto the floor. It's a great bit of visual comedy on its own, but made cleverer when we get to the end of the episode. Also, as a lover of logistics, I enjoy any glimpse into how people's various artificial bits and bobs were cared for back in the day, and the (potential) existence of giant marshmallowy puffball dusters delights me to no end.
Bootslander
Let's just take a break and admire Murtagh's kicky boots, and how perfectly they match his lid. Was he always this sartorially sassy, or did Paris teach him a trick or two?
Dentistlander
Claire, by the way, has been busying herself tending to the families and soldiers. Like Dr. Leo Spaceman before her -- or, technically AFTER her -- Claire appears to be an excellent physician and a pretty good dentist. She actually rips this woman's tooth out with some calipers. It's VERY handy that time-travel happened to her, and not to me. I'd have gotten to Scotland and been like, "Uh, I can... type up your clan meetings' minutes? Do you have a typewriter? Or I could write them by hand as long as the meetings are short and you don't care if you can read... sigh, never mind, I'll just go back to trying to make my own toothpaste."
Facelander
A child nearby seems terrified of all this, and its no wonder. This is NOT the facial expression you ever want to see on your dentist.
Warlander
The Jacobites are now, a month later I believe, in England. They're a five-day march from London, with three redcoat armies at large which are probably five times larger than their tiny ranks. The generals all think they should pack up and flee, or else not do anything at all; Charlie is tempted to march to London. Jamie quickly leaps onto this bandwagon because it's not what they did in Claire's original timeline, and he's so desperate to change the future. He delivers a kiss-assy speech in support of Charles's idea that ends with him kissing his king's ring, and when ABSOLUTELY NO ONE ELSE bites and joins them, Prince Charlie pulls a Tyra and flips his wig. He delivers the wartime, God-obsessed tantrum equivalent of TyTy's infamous "WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU!!!!!" speech, talking about how they're all in defiance of the Lord's wishes and the Heavenly Father has willed his accession, and that if they just wander down to London then God himself will reach out from the sky like a giant Monty Python cartoon and flick the heretic King off the throne so that Chuck's father can be delicately airlifted there.
The generals all silently WTF this statement, seeing it for what it is: The last resort of a man who has no freaking clue what to do next and just wants to jump to the end part where he is showered in glory.
Prettylander
For his troubles, Jamie gets exiled by the generals, who think he has too much influence over the prince. They finagle an early departure from camp with Charlie, who "borrows" Jamie's horse, before getting word to Jamie that he and his men must go to Inverness to -- essentially -- twiddle their thumbs until such time as Charlie needs them to slice and dice any redcoats. Jamie has no choice but to head back there, which is, clearly, how Claire comes to be so near the time-traveling rocks. Even knowing that certain death awaits, it's hard to be crabby when the scenery is so pretty. I am surprised they didn't bump into the ghost of Fraulein Maria, spinning around and trilling about how the hills feel so ALIVE even though DEATH IS IMMINENT.
Kneelander
Jamie flashes a little sexy, dirty knee for us while he and Murtagh cower behind a wall. It seems their party gets tracked by some redcoats at their camp and has to split off and flee. So not only are they a tiny faction of the Jacobites' similarly tiny army; they're now an EVEN SMALLER cabal of Only Actors With Character Names, Because Extras Are Expensive And Make For Long Shooting Days.
Rupertlander
And then poor grieving Rupert -- who misses Angus something fierce -- gets shot in the TOE and lies on Claire's lap leaking LOVE AND RAINBOWS from his TOEPLACE. He's going to die if she cannot help him with his PEDICURE.
Patchlander
I did not even watch this part. I barely even listened to it because whenever I tried to, I heard noises that made my heart shrivel into an even smaller piece of stale jerky. Suffice to say that Claire removes the GENTLE ANGRY BIRD CUDDLY TOY from Rupert's TOE AREA through a procedure known as HANDS-FREE MAGIC AND WISHING AND QUIET CONTEMPLATION and then fashions him a patch. She promises a black one so he can be "a proper pirate," which prompts a blank stare from Rupert, who doesn't know of such things as peg legs and parrots and thinks Claire may have gone mad. He also makes lots of jokes about having only one TOE, making him the George Weasley of this situation.
Intenselander
BUT THEN, of course, the redcoats figure out that a bunch of people -- who are trying to hide their horses in some shrubberies -- are holed up in a church, and that they're Scots. Jamie, a wanted man, is up Excrement Creek here without any kind of propulsive device -- and nothing tickles Claire's acting gene quite like these sorts of pickles. So she convinces Dougal to trade her to the redcoats, by pretending she's an English hostage in distress, in exchange for their freedom and horses. Jamie is SERIOUSLY DISPLEASED. which you can tell because his cheekbones get nominally sharper. But goes along with it because they all reason she'll be taken to the nearest garrison, where Jamie can swing in on a vine and rescue her.
Posterlander
In case you didn't believe me that Jamie is wanted by people other than loin aficionados.
Hughlander
This guy turned up in the Previously On so we knew he was going to be relevant. I apparently spaced out during the part of season one where we met him, but he's Jamie's mute friend -- the beggar Hugh Monroe -- and he notices Claire being walked into a bar. He waits, and when she leaves again, he approaches, and Claire is like YES MY FINEST ROLE EVER. She handles it thusly: She whispers to him the information about where she's actually being taken, and when the redcoat with her comes to her aid thinking that she's being harassed, she loudly upbraids him and uses that conversation to convey other helpful expository information to Hugh. As she's escorted back to their caravan, she pretends to be calm, but inside is wondering if it's too early to introduce the 1700s to the concept of acting awards.
Grosslander
I don't know if this guy will turn out to be important. He basically leers at Claire and tries to wave his (clothed, at least) crotch in her face, but nothing comes of it. For all I know, though, he'll turn up on season 3 episode 14, so let's at least document the presence of another redcoat who would like to storm Claire's beach but is thwarted.
Houselander
Claire is being taken to this old pile, where I had hoped she would meet the Grantham ancestry and turn out to be the person to blame for losing their Gutenberg Bible.
Foelander
But WHAT HO, instead it's the dwelling of our old pal the Duke of Sandringham. He pretends not to recognize Claire and offers "Mrs. Beauchamp" -- for Claire is going by her other name, obviously -- a safe harbor. Claire does a relatively poor job hiding her revulsion, just as the Duke cannot suppress the thirsty twinkle in his eye. For he has been starved of mischief for too long.
Dinnerlander
The Duke tells Claire that, due to his suspected Jacobite sympathies, his house has been surrounded by English officers. But he also says he has a guy who can get past them to deliver notes, so Claire eagerly scripts one in Gaelic to give to Hugh Monroe at the garrison -- where he has gone to find Jamie and tell him that Claire was unexpectedly taken elsewhere. Phew. Got that? Good.
The Duke also hilariously comments that some brief time spent in the Tower "took the curls out of my wig" and complains that due to financial issues his cook only comes a ghastly low three times a week. I think, as much as I would like to believe I'd be a plucky heroine, I'm secretly more of a Sandringham. Not in terms of scheming and plotting and moral heinousness, but because I'd be like, "UGH, A CHEF ONLY THRICE WEEKLY?"
Marylander
We ALSO get the return of Mary Hawkins, the Duke's goddaughter. Mary is typically whiny. Does she ask Claire how she's doing? Or where the baby is, that she doesn't know was lost? NOOOO. All Mary wants to talk about is how she doesn't want to marry the loyalist merchant Sandy has betrothed her to -- who, by the way, is named Granger. Mary, have some VISION. You could be Hermione Granger's direct ancestor, if only you showed some mettle. Also, CLAIRE HAS BEEN THROUGH SOME THINGS. Try asking a question, Mary. I am sorry that the worst happened to you, and I'm very sorry you hate all your would-be suitors, but you might be too TERRIBLE to be Hermione's great-great-great-great-whatever.
Rapelander
And here, Claire spots a telltale birthmark on the hand of Sandringham's servant, and identifies him as the man who raped Mary and tried to kill/rape her. Here, the Duke could easily have been like, "Whaaaaaaat? You cad, go the basement and I shall punish you heartily after I console poor Mrs. Fraser." Because the Duke is nothing if not also an elaborate liar. BUT.
Evillander
Instead, the Duke is like, "SHE RECOGNIZED YOU!" and proceeds to monologue himself silly. He tells Claire that St. Germain wanted her killed, so he convinced Le Comte that "simply having you raped was sufficient revenge." YOU OILY DILLRAG. Now, THIS kind of casual attitude about rape works because Sandringham is clearly SUCH a disgusting self-serving dirtbag who doesn't care about anything except his own status and station and lavish lifestyle. So of course he'd be cavalier with a woman's body and honor -- and that of his own goddaughter. Claire is totally grossed out, and Sandringham responds by laying out the entire scheme and telling Claire that Jamie is about to walk into a trap designed to turn him over to the English -- and thus prove Sandy's loyalty and restore his freedom of lifestyle. He all but taps his fingers together and bleats, "MWA HA HA HA."
Duolander
Meanwhile, Hugh finds our favorite bromantical pair and gets them Claire's letter. Proof positive that Murtagh is my soulmate: While Jamie translates and decodes the letter, Murtagh is COMPLETELY hung up on how awful Claire's Gaelic is and essentially copy-edits the whole thing with ruthless beside-the-point dedication. I love you, Murtagh. Jamie is like, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll teach her later, let's save her life," and Murtagh is all, "SHE SPELLED 'HELP' WRONG." You divine bearded nitpicker, you.
Whinelander
Claire has been locked inside her room, but Mary opens the door because Mary wants to escape with Claire. On that front, Claire gives her a job: Sneak out front and find the beggar Hugh Monroe, whom Claire has spied hiding in the bushes -- with no word as to how HE bypassed the troops -- and tell him to warn Jamie about the trap. Mary is like, "EW GOING OUTSIDE AT NIGHT AND TALKING TO BEGGARS? GROSS." Claire, blessedly, rolls her eyes so hard that they pulse the words YOU ARE TERRIBLE in Morse code.
Picturelander
And so Claire must go it alone, by escaping through this magnificent door. I need new closet doors. Where can I get one like this?
Wiglesslander
Claire's plan to escape through the kitchen is thwarted by Sandringham, who is having a wigless midnight snack. And he REALLY wants to chat. As Claire kills time with him -- while scanning the room for helpful things like knives -- he starts telling her all the rumors he heard about how she killed St. Germain in the presence of King Louis. If I were her, I'd have told him EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM was true.
Then, Terrible Mary comes downstairs, talks herself out of trouble, and doubles back to the front door to warn Hugh (who helpfully disposes of a door-knocking redcoat in the process). But SHE gets caught by Birthmark Rapist and dragged back to the kitchen, where she alleges she was going to run away to avoid her marriage but chickened out. Sandringham clearly cannot stand her voice and is like UGH GO UPSTAIRS GET OUTTTTT.
Redcoatlander
This fancy redcoat gets knocked out by Jamie, who then clambers over the fence and up to the main house. He did not think to strip the dead or unconscious soldier of his gear and put them on himself as a clever disguise, because he hasn't seen Star Wars yet.
Herolander
And then suddenly Jamie is bursting in to the kitchen to save he day. What happened to the redcoats that were encircling the entire estate? This was the EASIEST RESCUE EVER, even factoring in that Jamie was prepared for it to be a trap. He conked ONE soldier on the head and then strolled right on up to the back door. NONE of his other plans work. How was this one so simple?
Frightlander
This is a MAGNIFICENT picture. The scene is Sandringham again repeating his misdeeds -- Claire blurts out the entire truth of Paris -- and insisting that rape was no big deal and actually a blessing. This split-second shot is such a great picture of this man who is ALL artifice -- he even put his wig back on for Jamie's benefit -- and all squirrelly behavior and about himself and himself alone.
Stablander
MEANWHILE, Terrible Mary is so enraged that she grabs a kitchen knife and fillets the Birthmark Rapist. Claire is like, "Oh, MARY," as if she's a bit disappointed in this. But if we're living by Highland law right now, then I say: WAY TO GO, MARY. You might not be as terrible as I feared.
Axelander
BUT WE ARE NOT DONE. Murtagh then gets sexy with a massive axe and knocks off Sandringham's block. Well, nearly. He gets him about 80 percent of the way with the first stroke and uses two more to completely sever it. The sound effects team must have had SO MUCH FUN with this one. I imagine an old-school Foley artist taking a cleaver to a ham hock.
Revengelander
Murtagh kneels before Claire with Sandringham's head and offers her the spoils of vengeance -- which he swore he'd do, as her ostensible protector that night before he was knocked out by the brigands-for-hire. Claire is like, "Hey, thanks?" and then Slightly Less Terrible Mary understates, "I think we should get out of here." Do they dispose of the bodies? Throw them in the fire? Stay and have a nice meal before taking to the roads? Plot to crack one more redcoat over the head? I guess we'll find out next week. Or perhaps not.