Chapter Eleven

Everything was in place. Big Ben had just struck twelve. The fireworks had started. Johanna was safely behind a statue. Why had she decided to call him up to speak with him now of all times?

"Nelson!"

He turned. It was her Majesty.

"Why are you hiding yourself back there?"

"I shouldn't like to impede your view, Your Highness," he assured her falsely.

"Nonsense! You arranged all this. You should have a front-row view."

"I regret that- ah- respectfully I must decline. I need to keep a good eye on proceedings."

"You mean you want to get back to your Johanna," the Queen said, suddenly perceptive rather than whimsical.

He could do nothing but show his acquiescence.

"You really must marry her someday, Nelson," she added cheerily.

"I have hopes of arranging that very event later this evening."

"Congratulations, Nelson. It's about time you and she were wed!"

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"You've really outdone yourself."

"Wait till you see the finale," Nelson said, eyes glinting before he returned to his spot behind the statue as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion.

Just as he reached it, Johanna looked out from behind the statue. He quickly took a hold of her arm and pulled her to him, wrapping an arm securely about her waist. His hand was behind her head, pressing her forehead into his jaw line.

After awhile, the gunfire abated. Nelson did not move.

"Nelson..." Johanna whispered hesitantly.

"Johanna, I love you. Stay here. I will find you," he whispered urgently in her ear. Before she could say a single word, he kissed her soundly before letting her go and sprinting away from the newly created pandemonium.

"Nelson!" she called after him. In a split second decision, she ran after him.

ooooooooooooooooo

Johanna ducked behind a pillar as Roy and Doyle rod up to Nelson on a horse. As the horse stopped, Doyle fell. "Hold it right there, Rathboner! I'm guessin' by yer hasty retreat yer still 20th in line fer the throne," Roy said cockily.

"Tenth," Nelson corrected bitterly. Johanna had to bite back a snort at his tone.

"Inspector Doyle, arrest this man," Roy said with a smile, pointing at Nelson.

Doyle, who still lay on the floor, stood and placed his hat on his head. They were not anticipating what came next.

Nelson drew a tiny gun from his sleeve and quickly fired at them, too late to stop Roy's warning, but quick enough to wound Doyle.

"Arthur!" Johanna called, running to her friend.

"Johanna?" Nelson asked with a mixture of horror, anger, love, and fear.

"This way!" Chon yelled, leading his sister over to the other three and allowing Nelson to hurry away.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Rathbone nailed Artie with a little sissy-gun," Roy said, bending over the man.

"Wait, aren't you helping him?" Chon asked, finally noticing Johanna.

"I'll look after him, you two go! Go!" Lin insisted, pushing the two men away.

Chon looked back at Johanna with an indecipherable expression before hurrying to a pair of swords mounted on the wall. He took the down, handing one of them to Roy. He then looked at his sister and said, "For father."

"For father," Lin returned.

"For old man Wayne," Roy said, copying his compatriots.

Lin quickly stood and handed Roy a battered set of playing cards.

"My lucky playing cards," he said before Lin kissed him.

"Be careful," Lin said.

"You tell Rathbone to be careful," Roy returned.

"Where did she go?" Chon interrupted.

Roy looked around before sighing and saying, "She must have gone after Rathbone."

"Let's go, then," Chon said a little too quickly.

"Do you like her?" Roy asked as he began to walk.

"What?" Chon asked instantly.

"Do you like her, that Lady...John-a, or something," Roy asked, butchering her name.

"Lady Johanna Paulet," Chon corrected testily.

"That must be a yes. Man, you don't have a chance with that chic, Chon!"

"What do you mean?" Chon said, grabbing his friend's arm and stopping.

"Come on, Chon! She's practically married to Rathboner! They're probably already sleeping together," Roy said.

Chon ground his teeth together before saying tensely, "We should go."

"Oh, touchy," Roy said, following his friend.