Jamie was all too delighted to hear that his captor/tormentor/rapist Black Jack Randall was alive because it meant that he would get to be the one to issue the terminal blow, but Claire was probably definitely banking on that day to come a lot later than now. But when he shows up, in full English red, to sully the pristine gardens of Versailles with his very presence, he’s ready to accept Jamie’s challenge to a duel, which means Claire has to act fast if she wants to ensure the existence of her future husband, Frank. But this pseudo-rescue of one husband (after all, Jack very well could have impregnated Mary Hawkins in the alley, if he was indeed the one who deserves the allegation) might just cost her the stability of another.
Is it worth it? So much harm to those she cares about: Jamie, for denying him the “gift” of ending the source of so much misery; Alex, for being talked out of wedding the woman he loves; Mary Hawkins, for having to marry a man who is by all estimations evil? And for what? We already know she’s not exactly going to be delighted when she does return to Frank’s arms, thanks to the season opener’s dismal look-ahead. And, hypothetically, even if she were to change the future fate of the Jacobite Rebellion, the butterfly effect could make a ripple that affects the outcome of his lineage anyway, right?
Let’s start from the beginning.
We open with Claire maligning the clock that tick-tocks away the time that she’s separated from Jamie, who’s been locked up in the Bastille alongside Alex and “everyone” else involved in the sudden brawl that broke out during their dinner party. He returns to find that she’s stayed up all night worried about him -- with the faithful guardianship of young Fergus, of course -- and they have a picture-perfect family moment together that can only serve to make us miss this exact moment when the mess sets in later.
As we know, the Comte St. Germain stole Prince Charles away from the ruckus, which means that even though the Duke of Sandringham was probably unimpressed with Charles’ impetuousness, there’s another complication that’s been inserted into the equation now. And what’s worse is Claire and Jamie suspect the Comte to have had some involvement in the attack on Claire and her friends because Jamie may or may not have said that his wife was La Dame Blanche in an effort to avoid being pressured into bedding one of the ladies at Madame de Maison Elise. Whoops.
Jamie, in one of his classic moments of protectiveness, promises to get to the bottom of it, and if he does find out the Comte went out for his wife, it’s ON.
Jamie’s first order of business is to loop Murtagh into the plan and see what scoop he can muster up about the Comte. All he knows is that there’s an underground group of French aristocrats who spend their downtime prowling the streets for vulnerable “prey.” Despite his relevant find, Murtagh’s still having a pretty hard time with the fact that he couldn’t protect the gals.
Murtagh: I failed you.
Jamie: You did no such thing.
Murtagh: You gave me your trust. Your wife and your child unborn to guard, and a wee English lass.
Jamie: You were out-manned.
Murtagh: I cannot forgive myself for what happened in that alley. Or what could’ve happened.
Jamie: Then you keep after him. If St. Germain is behind this, then we need to connect him to the gang, Le Disciple.
Murtagh: I will lay just vengeance at your feet or be damned.
Also suffering is Mary, who Claire pays a visit to under the guise of examining her health. She learns that Mary is experiencing the burden of shame that many victims like her endure after an attack (sad face), but on a positive note, she’s pretty relieved to be unsuitable for marriage to her original suitor who “would never take a soiled bride” (as Claire puts it, “GOOD RIDDANCE”). It’s during their discussion that Claire finds out Mary intends to wed Alex Randall -- which is contrary to her memory of Frank’s history, of course -- and she has written a letter to exonerate him of the charges that he committed the violence against her.
Claire’s then faced with the choice of burning the letter and allowing Alex to rot in his prison cell forever -- or, at least until Mary gets the chance to write another letter? -- or delivering it as intended and watering the Randall family tree another way.
Meanwhile, Charles is broaching an alternate route to the throne himself, courtesy of the Comte: He’ll raise funds for the war chest by turning a quick profit on a wine shipment -- the catch being that he wants Jamie to procure the sale and keep “a wary eye” on the Comte. Charles will not be dissuaded by the Comte’s potential relationship with the “heretical circle” of Le Diciples, either. He’s wayyyy to power hungry to be dissuaded from this new opportunity. This is done, and Jamie’s in way too deep already.
While Claire’s talking Alex into believing himself unworthy of Mary’s hand in marriage -- pointing out that he doesn’t want to sentence her to a life of “penury” based on his loss of station with the Duke of Sandringham -- Jamie meets with the Comte to have an epic stare-down session. Jamie makes no secret about the fact that (1) he doesn’t want to spend any more time with him than he has to and (2) he KNOWS Comte had something to do with his wife’s poisoning and possibly even Mary’s rape.
In a last moment of happy home-liness, Jamie presents Claire with a gift for the baby (the “bairn”) -- a set of antique spoons that represent the 12 apostles that’s been passed down in his family for generations. This serves as a timely segue for Claire to offer some self-doubt about her mothering skills (Happy Mother’s Day indeed!), which Jamie answers with the promise that they’ll learn to be parents together. D’awww.
The happy moment doesn’t linger long, though. Jamie and Claire head off to meet with the Duke of Sandringham during a horse show, and while Jamie displays an excellent knack for studliness (ahem), the Duke is not impressed with his association with Prince Charles. He wonders, what does it say about Jamie’s judge of character to be so beholden to the prince. Jamie chalks it up to believing his father is the “true king,” but the Duke’s clearly still got some reservations.
Meanwhile, Claire’s having a ~moment~ with Annalise, who knew Jamie (perhaps even in the carnal sense) in his younger days. She’s all too happy to boast about knowing Jamie in his more impulsive days but ultimately credits Claire with turning him into a “man.” Ummm, thanks?
And then … this is not a drill. Not a delusion. Not your imagination. There’s Black Jack Randall, staring Claire down and blithering about the “sublime preposterousness of the universe” that has brought them back into each other’s company right now -- he to appear on his brother’s behalf at Bastille and she to act out her history-tweaking mission (not that knows that, of course).
Enter King Louis XV to add some much-needed levity to the situation based on his supreme distaste for the current English nobility. He reminds Claire that her “acquaintanceship” with the Captain here is contrary to her support of his cousin’s rebellion mission and wonders whether Jamie is aware of their affiliation when, lo and behold, here comes to Jamie to confirm that, yes, he too knows this Captain Jack Randall very well. Louis seizes the opportunity to prod a little bit at Black Jack -- even bringing him to his knees in a hilarious moment of confusion -- but ultimately, nothing is resolved by the smirks.
Jamie still challenges him to a fight, and, in a moment of surprisingly good manners, Jack accepts. “He said he owed me a death,” Jamie explains.
Jamie returns to the great house excited about the bloodbath to come -- although Murtagh’s quick to warn him not to underestimate his foe -- but Claire has other ideas. She heads straight to the Bastille to lay claim that Captain Randall is the one who attacked her and Mary in the streets, and so he is arrested before Jamie can fulfill his death wish.
Jamie is, of course incensed by her decision, and he’s no less enraged to learn her reason for keeping Jack Randall out of death’s grip (Frank’s existence). She calls upon her life debt to convince him, and he, being an honorable sort who pays his debts, agrees … disdainfully, of course.” He’ll give her one year -- “not a day more” -- but now their happy home is happy no more. Le sighhhhhh.
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