London, 1760.
For Jamie Fraser 
 ,
paroled prisoner-of-war in theremote Lake District, life could be worse: He’s not cutting sugarcane in the West Indies, and he’s close enough to the son he can-not claim as his own. But Jamie Fraser’s quiet existence is comingapart at the seams, interrupted rst by dreams of his lost wife,then by the appearance of Tobias Quinn, an erstwhile comradefrom the Rising. Like many of the Jacobites who aren’t dead or in prison, Quinnstill lives and breathes for the Cause. His latest plan involves anancient relic that will rally the Irish. Jamie is having none of it—he’s sworn off politics, ghting, and war. Until Lord John Greyshows up with a summons that will take him away from everythinghe loves—again. Lord John Grey—aristocrat, soldier, and occasional spy—ndshimself in possession of a packet of explosive documents thatexposes a damning case of corruption against a British ofcer. Butthey also hint at a more insidious danger. Time is of the essenceas the investigation leads to Ireland, with a bafing message left in“Erse,” the tongue favored by Scottish Highlanders. Lord John,who oversaw Jacobite prisoners when he was governor of Ards-miur prison, thinks Jamie may be able to translate—but will heagree to do it? Soon Lord John and Jamie are unwilling companions on the roadto Ireland, a country whose dark castles hold dreadful secrets,and whose bogs hide the bones of the dead. A captivating re-turn to the world Diana Gabaldon created in her Outlander andLord John series,
The Scottish Prisoner 
is another masterpiece of epic history, wicked deceit, and scores that can only be settled inblood.
Includes a preview of the new novel in the Outlander series.
 
4
1
 April Fool 
 Helwater, the Lake District April 1, 1760
IT WAS SO COLD OUT, HE THOUGHT HIS COCK MIGHT BREAK
off in his hand—if he could find it. The thought passed throughhis sleep-mazed mind like one of the small, icy drafts that dartedthrough the loft, making him open his eyes.He could find it now; had waked with his fist wrapped roundit and desire shuddering and twitching over his skin like a cloudof midges. The dream was wrapped just as tightly round hismind, but he knew it would fray in seconds, shredded by thesnores and farts of the other grooms. He needed her, needed tospill himself with the feel of her touch still on him.Hanks stirred in his sleep, chuckled loudly, said somethingincoherent, and fell back into the void, murmuring, “Bugger,bugger, bugger . . .”Jamie said something similar under his breath in the Gaelicand flung back his blanket. Damn the cold.He made his way down the ladder into the half- warm, horse-smelling fug of the barn, nearly falling in his haste, ignoring a
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