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“ Jonathan…what has grasped hold of you…First the Governor‘s house, and now Pristine Bank?”, Lady Elizabeth tilted her head to one side. A melancholy expression gracing her Irish face as her gloved slender hands gripped the bar’s of Jonathan’s cell. Her dearest friend was in a worrisome predicament, for the hundredth time this decade. Shaking her head in worried concern, Elizabeth wondered how he could ever be seen as a potential suitor. Regardless of being born a gentleman, the man misbehaved like a raving jester. Absent his king.

Jonathan kept staring at the wood graving in the floor. His chin held down by shame. In deep sympathy for her closest friend, Lady Elizabeth parted the distance betwixt herself and the bars in order to press her cheek against the iron that separated them. If not for propriety and the fact that she possessed no key, no bars would stop her from consoling her friend. He could murder the pope for all she cared, and she would still be standing outside the bars longing to embrace him and expel his worries. ‘ Do you not know how strongly you effect me Mr. Davies? Abandoning all reason I travel by coach at the very mention of your capture, and can your mind fathom the consistency of my concern?’ If Jonathan was aware that Lady Elizabeth harboured such passion within her breast; he made no note of it. He laughed; and tilted his head towards her, though his eyes remained abroad. As if he was ashamed for his behaviour, but feared that eye-contact would reveal his remorse.

“ Twas only a fleeting fancy, loosen your corset Elizabeth, you need not restrain your breath. ”, Jonathan looked at Elizabeth then, his eyes glazed over in protective fury. “ Vacate your derogatory scrutiny, I am unmerited of your mercy.” This was not the first time the age-old comrades had argued; nor the last. Sighing to vent her frustration, Lady Elizabeth’s face reddened in aggrieved disapproval. Pain stabbing her chest at the very tone Jonathan had taken with her. Had she given an callous stare, she had not meant to. But to not state her concerns? Would that not be folly? The anger in his passionate voice almost shouted: Depart from me! I wish, no longer, to look upon your face! Elizabeth’s face reddened in a sunset flush; anger fuming from her nostrils.

“ Oh? Who persuades more so than I? Whom else shall chastise you?!? You spend all your days frolicking with your father‘s fortune simply to intrigue others with your ‘entertainment‘. The crowds speak of nothing besides your antics, and with the same tongues those closest to you burn! Am I to blister with them?!?” Almost on the verge of shouting, Jonathan ran forward to silence her. The fury still plainly evident on his face. Perhaps Mr. Davies simply lacked proper communication skills; perhaps he simply had poor control over his emotions whilst clasped within his fury. No matter the basis for his passionate response, Jonathan’s hands clasped the nearest object in his cell and flung it upon the floor in angered dismay. Had Elizabeth been prone to fear, she might have left. As if was, Lady Elizabeth was used to these passionate displays, and wished even more that there were no bars separating them. If only to lift the folds of her gown and part the distance and clout her gloved fist against his chin. Though a glass of water splashing about his face might very well serve to calm him to a stronger degree.

“ Have I pleaded your presence? Did I pen to summon you?”, Elizabeth’s chin began to quiver from the onset of tears. ‘ No…’. Mr. Davies expected no answer, and thus began to speak again once the vein in his neck began to subside beneath his skin. “ Abscond from me, Elizabeth! I tire of your pennies being wasted autonomously on my liberation.” He then looked towards Elizabeth with an expression that could only be translated as: I loathe thee.

And yet, just as sorrowful tears began to grace the fair Elizabeth’s cheek, her dearest friend approached the bars. Retreating, simply from the emotional pain one might endure with being touched by the very person who disdained one’s presence, Jonathan’s hand clasped her dampened cheek and rubbed away the fluid with his thumb. The motion so tender, Elizabeth was torn. Clearly her friend had overreacted and wished to apologize in some manner for his ungentle-manly conduct. If only Elizabeth could prevent her heart from festering the untamed desire that longed for more than just cordial apologies. Lost in the color of his eyes, the tearful Elizabeth could only wait in cold suspense for whatever words waited in restraint upon the tip of his tongue. Finally, he tilted his chin, his mouth parted in preparation for speech.

“ I…