The who­le Sce­ne:

Jamie snor­ted, but laug­hed a litt­le too. “Aye. It’s no ver­ra easy to be six­te­en, is it?”
“So you did help that girl Lao­g­hai­re becau­se you felt sor­ry for her,” I said, when I had reco­ve­r­ed my com­po­sure. “You knew what it was like.”
He was sur­pri­sed. “Aye, I said so. It’s a lot easier to get pun­ched in the face at three-and-twen­ty than to have your bum strap­ped in public at six­te­en. Brui­sed pri­de hurts worse than any­thing, and it brui­ses easy then.”
“I won­de­red. I’d never seen anyo­ne grin in anti­ci­pa­ti­on of being pun­ched in the mouth.”
“Could­na very well do it after­ward.”
“Mmh.” I nod­ded agree­ment. “I thought — ” I said, then stop­ped in embarr­ass­ment.
“Ye thought what? Oh, about me and Lao­g­hai­re, ye mean,” he said, divi­ning my thought. “You and Alec and ever­yo­ne else, inclu­ding Lao­g­hai­re. I’d have done the same if she’d been plain.” He nud­ged me in the ribs. “Though I din­na expect you’ll belie­ve that.”
“Well, I did see you toge­ther that day in the alco­ve,” I defen­ded mys­elf, “and some­bo­dy cer­tain­ly taught you how to kiss.”
Jamie shuf­fled his feet in the dust, embarr­as­sed. He ducked his head shy­ly. “Well now, Sas­se­nach, I’m no bet­ter than most men. Some­ti­mes I try, but I din­na always mana­ge. Ye know that bit in St. Paul, whe­re he says ’tis bet­ter to mar­ry than burn? Well, I was bur­nin’ qui­te bad­ly the­re.”
I laug­hed again, fee­ling light-hear­ted as a six­te­en-year-old mys­elf. “So you mar­ried me,” I teased, “to avo­id the occa­si­on of sin?”“Aye. That’s what mar­ria­ge is good for; it makes a sacra­ment out of things ye’d other­wi­se have to con­fess.”

I col­lap­sed again.
“Oh, Jamie, I do love you!”
This time it was his turn to laugh. He dou­bled over, then sat down at the roadsi­de, fiz­zing with mirth. He slow­ly fell over back­ward and lay in the long grass, whee­zing and cho­king.
“What on earth is the mat­ter with you?” I deman­ded, sta­ring at him. At long last, he sat up, wiping his strea­ming eyes. He shook his head, gas­ping.
“Mur­tagh was right about women. Sas­se­nach, I ris­ked my life for ye, com­mit­ting theft, arson, ass­ault, and mur­der into the bar­gain. In return for which ye call me names, insult my man­hood, kick me in the bal­locks and claw my face. Then I beat you half to death and tell ye all the most humi­lia­ting things have ever hap­pen­ed to me, and you say ye love me.” He laid his head on his knees and laug­hed some more. Final­ly he rose and held out a hand to me, wiping his eyes with the other.
“You’re no ver­ra sen­si­ble, Sas­se­nach, but I like ye fine. Let’s go.”

All rights for the Pic­ture go to the right­ful owner Starz
Quo­te and Excerpt by Diana Gabaldon from “Outlander”
I own not­hing but the editing
Heike Ginger Ba Written by:

|Human|Woman|Mother|Wife|Friend| Photographer| Blogger| |TV-Junkie|Photoshop-Beginner|Art-Lover|Cologne-based|Outlander-addict |Sherlockian |TWD-devoted


  1. March 28

    Your excepts, bring remin­ders each time about why I love Out­lan­der! Thanks, Hei­ke!

    • Heike Ginger Ba
      March 28

      Hi Nor­ma,

      like always my Plea­su­re…

  2. Cettina Consoli
    April 9

    Oh Hei­ke! I real­ly enjoy your exerpts! They make me feel the emo­ti­ons I felt rea­ding the books. And It’s won­der­ful to see other readers sharing the same fee­lings. TY.

    • Heike Ginger Ba
      April 9

      Hi Cet­ti­na,

      very hap­py you like them…that was the Idea..bring show and book clo­ser both so very much… LG Hei­ke

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