Outlander

Previously...

You live in a brothel?

Is it because you're such a good customer?

- Monsieur Malcolm. - Madame Jeanne.

She keeps a... a room for me

'cause I'm often abroad, attending to business.

Ian Murray, Mistress.

Are you Jenny and Ian Murray's son?

Aye.

I'm your aunt... Claire.

What exactly is the nature

of your work with my husband?

That would be a better question for Mr. Malcolm.

Do you want to tell me what it is that you do?

I am a printer.

Printing seditious pamphlets is no that profitable.

What else have you been doing?

A wee bit of smuggling on the side.

- Smuggling what? - Whisky.

Seems a trifle light, Mr. Malcolm.

Who the hell are you?

Get out now...

- You come any closer, I'll... - What? You'll what?

Now I'm not even gonna bed you.

I'm just gonna kill you.

Oh!

Sassenach.

What the devil happened?

Sassenach.

I was downstairs, and I came back.

I found him rummaging through your things.

He grabbed me,

and I fought him off, but...

It all happened so quickly.

He's breathing!

Sassenach.

Sassenach, what are you thinking?

I can't let him suffer. I have to do something.

Why? He attacked you.

Because I'm a doctor.

An epidural hematoma.

I'm going to have to relieve the swelling.

Aye?

- Who is it? - Me, Milord.

I'm with Madame Jeanne.

Some of the ladies said they heard a struggle in your bed chamber.

She was defending herself.

Please, help me get him on the bed.

- Who is he? - I don't know.

Sassenach...

let God take him.

I have to try and save him, Jamie.

You understand?

Please.

- You have some whisky? - Aye.

Over there.

Ye said he was searching for something in the room.

Yes, your ledgers.

John Barton.

An exciseman.

This is very bad, Milord.

Aye.

It seems Sir Percival is of the mind

I'm not keeping to our agreement.

What agreement?

He turns a blind eye to the sale of my illegal liquor

in exchange for a large portion of the profit.

But our business pursuits have expanded

beyond Edinburgh,

and I havena apprised him of the matter.

You think he has word we've been trading

as far as Dundee and Arbroath?

Aye. Yeah, maybe.

Just yesterday, he attempted to extort more money from me.

He must have employed this man

to find out where I've stowed my hidden casks.

So he's a crooked agent of the Crown, then.

Aye. When this man doesna return,

Sir Percival will come round looking for him.

That is quite a problem, Monsieur Malcolm,

considering the casks Sir Percival is searching for

are hidden in my basement.

Well, not for long.

No harm will befall you on my account.

You have my word.

Allow me to send one of my more discreet girls

to put, um, everything in order right away.

- Merci, Madame. - Please.

Ask her for some hot water and a basin,

and I'll need some surgical implements.

A trephine.

Send her to the barber surgeon. He'll have one.

- A what? - Whatever for?

A drill to bore a hole in his skull.

I will see what I can do...

Madame Malcolm.

Thank you.

Gather the lads. I'll inform them of events shortly.

Aye.

I still have some time.

I'll need to go to the apothecary,

get some laudanum and things.

Will you stay with him until I come back, in case he wakes?

He doesn't deserve your mercy.

Maybe not.

Once he's recovered, you can turn him over to the authorities.

I ken ye've jes returned,

so mebbe ye dinna recall

the workings of the law in this time.

But all they'll see is that you were alone wi' a man

that's not yer husband, in a brothel.

- I'm not a whore. - Doesna matter.

The City Guard come here, they'll arrest you

for having assaulted him.

I'll have to hurry.

Stubborn as always.

Well, do as you must.

I've casks to rid myself of.

I'll send a man up to watch over him

while we're gone.

I admire a woman who values the sanctity of human life.

Then you can be the one to go up and keep an eye on him.

'Tis weak-minded if ye ask me.

Try kill a man, then heal him.

Only wish that we could kill him.

I've been wantin' to gut a filthy exciseman for years.

Well, Milady's always been a unique woman.

Aye.

What about the print shop, Uncle Jamie?

If Sir Percival sent men here, he may look there as well.

Eh, let him look. I dinna keep casks at the shop.

Ah, but you do keep other items there.

Sir Percival doesna ken that, and he never will.

And no one will find a trace of the pamphlets.

They're well hidden.

Besides, movin' them now would be more dangerous than leavin' 'em be.

Particularly now that ye're under Sir Percival's watchful gaze.

Which is why I'm entrusting you with the selling of the casks,

wi'out delay, even if it means takin' a loss.

We canna risk them being discovered.

I wilna disappoint ye, Uncle Jamie.

That's why I tasked ye wi' it.

Do ye have anything that might calm nerves?

An auld wise woman said that mandrake root

would do the trick.

Nae, I-I dinna keep that root.

Cause frightful symptoms, I'm afraid.

I'm so sorry... I don't mean to be rude,

but I have a situation that requires immediate attention.

- Please wait your turn, madam. - Uh, but it's urgent.

So, too, is the health of my dear sister.

And what of hemlock?

'Tis said that it aids symptoms such as hers.

I'm an experienced healer.

I would be happy to treat your sister

if you just allow me to go ahead of you.

Free of charge? In recognition of my generosity?

Of course.

Thank you.

Uh, I'll need a bottle of laudanum,

some ground yarrow root, and tormentil.

And please hurry, a man's life is at stake.

You seem to ken yer remedies.

What ails the poor man?

Uh, it's a severe head wound.

Aye.

My sister's condition relates to her head as well.

But 'tis more of a nervous complaint of sorts.

- That'll be 2 shillings, madam. - Yes.

Thank you.

I have to go, but I can pay your sister a visit later.

Uh, I'd be grateful.

Uh, you can call on us

at Henderson's in Carrubber's Close.

Uh... uh, Campbell is the name.

Archibald and Margaret Campbell.

Thank you.

50 for the lot of 'em.

Och, McDaniel,

ye're lookin' at 100 pounds' worth

of fine brandy here.

French brandy, imported from Cognac itself.

It is a truly superior brandy.

You can charge more for that

and make a braw profit.

50.

I like ye, McDaniel,

so I'll no be put off by yer paltry offering.

75.

70.

I'll no go higher.

Without the Crown's seal, I'm the one taking all the risk

possessing your contraband.

75 pounds, and you'll get three cask

of the crème de menthe as well.

What do ye say?

I'm no a man to refuse liquors at no charge.

Ye have a bargain.

Ye're a good man. Thank you.

I'll send up a few lads to give you a hand.