The Huntsman In London {Sequel to Mad and In Love}

Chapter Nine: My Lover Lies Over the Sea

His mind was blank, a heaviness crushed his chest like a tin can in a vice...Was it heartache? Melancholy? Grief? It bubbled up inside, the rest of his body weighed down and immobile until it came rushing out of his mouth. The salty taste suddenly stinging his throat as he coughed up the sea water and began to breathe air. Everything started happening at once with the sights and sounds around him sharply returning to his awareness...His head pounded, feeling every beat of the heart in his skull. 

"Looks like he was left for dead..." a feminine voice grated in his ear. 

"Hurry, check his pockets before he comes to!" Another hissed bitterly. 

He could feel small hands rummaging in his clothes but before they could reach his pockets, Alan roughly snatched the hands and glared at the two women attempting the rob what they assumed was as good as a corpse. 

"Little late for that..." He threatened with a glare at the two who were taken aback at his quick recovery from nearly drowning to death. 

"Y-You've got it all wrong, sweetheart~ We were only lookin' for a name, see. F-For the Constable!" The more brazen of the two insisted.

From their clothes, Alan knew that they wouldn't even dream of getting a Constable, not unless they were called to service so to speak..

"I'm not your sweetheart, so you can drop the customer service and piss off..." Alan hissed, throwing the more timid girl's hand back into her possession. 

"Not a very gentlemanly thank you from a lad in a waistcoat..." The second girl scoffed at him as slowly but surely rose to his feet, towering over the prostitutes. 

"Consider my head injury and infinite compassion to not immediately report both of you to Scotland Yard my payment for your discretion." He snapped back, taking a moment to confirm all of the limited belongings he left Dr. Bumby with, was still on his person. 

He glanced up to notice the two girls were still there, eyeing him warily. 

"Off you pop then." He nodded his head to the side, directing them to scatter and they did, fearing their 'payment' may be revoked if they bothered the gentleman further. 

It wasn't until they were out of sight that the bitter cold of an English autumn evening pierced Alan to his core. Staggering back, he leaned up against one of the dozen dock sheds lining the thames. What little warmth he did feel, dribbled down the side of his face...Taking a hand to the area and inspecting it, he had the right idea in the first place. 

Another one of those psychosomatic seizures, surely. Recently they had been returning with a vengeance and Alan could have guessed what had happened with Pris. He must have fallen and hit his head resulting in the gash. It also explains why he was indeed a few shillings lighter than when he left Bumby, seeing as how the girls didn't get the chance to rob him blind. After remaining unconscious for most of the afternoon, Pris feared the worst and decided to dispose of him in the Thames. If anyone asked she could say he jumped, a reasonable conclusion and clean enough for Scotland Yard not to investigate the matter further.