As fully as Claire adapted to the customs and sing-song traditions of the Scottish Highlanders in Outlander’s first season, her immersion into becoming a “lady of such distinction” in 1746 Paris is a little less complete. As she, Jamie and Murtagh execute the first leg of their plan to thwart the Jacobite Rebellion in its infancy at the salacious court of King James, the trio find themselves in varying levels of appreciation for the, erm, charms of the French nobility. Meaning, Claire’s a big fan of the decadent fashions (which include actual fans, by the way), while Jamie could take it or leave any of it, and Murtagh wants to cut off the you-know-whats of anyone and everyone who scoffs at his kilts and swordplay.
As though we could possibly forget, we’re reminded once again of the fact that Jamie, an actual rape victim, is still suffering from the abuse he suffered as a ward of Captain Black Jack Randall. This time, it’s a nightmare in which a marital tryst with Claire turns to violence after she transforms into his abuser and becomes mince meat (OK, that part might have trended more on the good dream side). His resulting sleeplessness is a cause for concern for both himself and his loving wife, so she decides to make her own bed, much to the maidservant’s chagrin, and head out to the local apothecary for a potential remedy.
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OUTLANDER SEASON 2
This provides a welcome break from the airs and auspices of running a great house in the era (along with the knowledge that everything around her will succumb to the bloodiness of the French Revolution in the span of a few decades and that the Eiffel Tower is still a century from breaking ground) and earns herself a new ally to boot, as he is not particularly fond of the count whose ship was recently set aflame by Claire’s recent on-sight smallpox diagnosis. Small victory!
Meanwhile, Jamie and Murtagh are venting their frustrations the only way the Highlanders know how: A good old-fashioned spar in the park. Of course, this is quite unsettling to the gentle Frenchmen and women who are not accustomed to such recreational activity -- dueling has been outlawed in the country for some time now -- but Murtagh simply sees their disdain as yet another tally on his list of things he does not like about his new home (other gripes: “it reeks of the chamberpot” and is an overall “misery of a country”).
The good news is that their mission is forging ahead at a steady pace, as Jamie’s cousin has secured them a meeting with Prince Charles … at a local brothel, mind you, but still. This presents ample opportunity for us to savor the visual splendor of courtesan fashions and for the show to remind us that naughty bedroom toys were no mere invention of the modern age. Ooh la la!
“This is why I admire the French,” Prince Charles cheerily remarks as the madame of the house flaunts her wares. “They’re so wonderfully vulgar. They never allow their exquisite manners to interfere with their basic instincts.” Sounds a little like a sailor-mouthed someone we know, right?
After the ladies of the house have had their fun pulling a deliciously evil prank on the nervous nobility in the house -- convincing them all for a split second that their wives are coming to bear witness to all their neck-nuzzling behaviors -- Charles and Jamie get down to the real business afoot.
The Prince, a daddy’s boy for the ages, asks Jamie whether he believes his fellow Scottish clansmen will be ready, willing and able to stand at arms for his cause, and a light bulb shines brightly over Jamie’s head as he realizes that this is exactly the kind of opportunity he’s been waiting for. “The truth of it is, the clans cannot agree on the color of the sky,” he says with a forced air of regret. “They’re not ready to hear the call of the pipes or likely to be so for many years to come.”
But Charles is, if not actually wise to the attempt at deception, at least skeptical of Jamie’s intention. He’s never been told no before, so why now? Especially when they share the common interest of having a Catholic on the throne (the umpteenth example of the ubiquitousness of religious patriarchy in this era)? Jamie cites prior rebellions-gone-wrong, but Murtagh (whose welcome is beyond exhausted by this point) takes it one step further and forces Charles to admit that he’s never even stepped foot in Scotland.
That’s when Charles invokes his family’s divine right to the crown -- cue the obligatory sign of the cross -- and asks Jamie to approach the Court of Louis in his stead to advocate for rebellion. Jamie, aware that this presents a second chance at turning the historical tide, agrees and takes the new development onto the real brains of his operation: Claire.
And of course she’s already cooked up a plan before he can finish the story because she’s literally 200 (well, 202, but who’s counting) steps ahead of everyone around her. They’ll go to court, as directed, and cut Charles’s monetary lifeline at the source.
“If the Scottish rebellion can be plotted a French brothel, then perhaps it can be stopped in the French court,” she muses. Next stop: Versaille. But she’ll need an invitation to get there first.
Enter Louise, a woman whom Claire has buddied up with sometime between her arrival and now, who likes getting full-body waxes with an audience, apparently. She introduces Claire to Mary Hawkins, a fellow Englishwoman (Englishgirl, more like), who’s been pre-arranged to marry a man covered in warts but has good societal posturing (what every girl just dreams of, right?). She extends an invitation for Claire to join her at court -- problem solved -- and she’s totally fine if Jamie wants to tag along, although she cautions that it’d be more fun for her friend if she went stag to the soiree. Voila! Problem solved.
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Maybe this whole time Claire just needed some female friends
Earning Louise’s trust required a little more than chatter, however; Claire, whose appreciation for primal desires is not exactly a secret to her husband, has also submitted to some wax treatment, and Jamie’s definitely a fan … until he experiences another episode of Black Jack Randall mind interruption mid-coitus, of course. But it’s OK, it’s OK, because the bane of Jamie’s existence is dead and simply a ghost of his mind now. RIGHT?!
Two weeks pass before the big day arrives, and everyone’s dressed to the nines. Well, sort of. Murtagh’s not shaved in weeks (or bathed much, for that matter), and Claire’s decolletage design gives Jamie a quick case of floorjaw. Even still, they’re ready to befriend this Minister of Finance and convince him that the rebellion is a terrible investment to make.
While the riverside estate that welcomes them is a picturesque view of the heralded beauty, wealth and splendor of the palatial and pre-Revolution privileged, the events which follow their arrival are less ideal.
For starters, Jamie runs into an old friend (and possibly flame?) whose flirtiness has Claire’s eyebrows touching her hairline, and when Claire does make acquaintance with the Minister, he’s mistaken her request to speak to him as an invitation to “find ecstasy in each other’s embrace.” Yech. She tries to speak up and correct his advances before any real damage is done, but that’s when Jamie arrives and throws him into the Seine River, effectively ruining his wig. Whoops.
Luckily for everyone, Monsieur Duvernay is terribly embarrassed by his own behavior and offers a gesture of apology (which not-so-subtly reads as a “please don’t tell my wife” request). His friendship will suffice per Jamie, who has also just made the King’s nice list after witnessing his very public struggle to do a royal number two and offering a proven solution (porridge is apparently the go-to back-up plan in Scotland, even if it is the supper of peasants). So, things are on the up and up overall, considering.
That’s when Murtagh spots the Duke of Sandringham merrily lusting after a woman whose areolas are only partially concealed by tiny doves. Jamie steps in to warn him against drawing his sword near the king -- “it is death,” he ominously forebodes his old friend. The Duke offers no apology for his failure to deliver their Petition of Complaint against Captain Randall, offering instead a mere shrug. Claire, knowing full well that no resolution to this conversation would be beneficial to their ends, sends Jamie and Murtagh away to drink with the Minister, and that’s when the Duke reveals that his companion of the night is none other than Randall’s brother.
Turns out, Randall did not fall to the injuries given to him during the rescue effort, which means Claire is now faced with the decision of whether she should inform her loving husband that his tormenter is still a free (and more importantly, living) man or keep that news close to her chest in hopes of continuing their shared mission to save his homeland. Even in flashforward world, Joseph Heller had yet to write his seminal novel, and already Claire’s come to know all about a Catch-22 now.
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