"Mother?"

"Yes darling?" Maria turned to her youngest child who was frowning in concentration as she tried to cut her schnitzel.

"Can we go on another picnic to celebrate your 'annie ver sary'?" Gretl struggled over the big word.

Maria helped her cut her food and replied "But we went on a picnic on Sunday. Surely you don't want to go on another picnic so soon?"

"Oh but we do! Please mother. It would be such fun." Marta joined her sister in pleading.

"Well, let's see. Let me talk to Father first and we can decide." Maria glanced at Georg at the other end of the table. She smiled to see him engaged in quiet conversation with Friedrich who was earnestly doing his best to look responsible and mature as he listened to his father. Georg looked up at his wife as he sensed her gaze on him. He raised one eyebrow slightly, his mouth quirked into the half smile that she adored. She smiled back serenely.

Eight months. They had been married eight months. She still marveled at the complete change in direction her life had taken. Never had she thought she would be a wife or a mother. How she cherished those two words – wife and mother – surely the two most beautiful words in any language. They carried within them the wealth of meaning for the extraordinary happiness her life was filled with now. A thousand precious moments of sweetness and bliss: the feel of Gretl's soft chubby arms around her neck as Maria rocked her back to sleep after a nightmare, softly singing the Brahms lullaby; Brigitta (the most exuberantly affectionate of her children) flinging her arms around her waist and hugging her tight; the boys allowing her to stroke their hair at night as she wished them goodnight and again when she woke them each morning. Her lovely reserved Louisa, warily letting her in inch by inch into her heart; linking arms with Liesl as they walked around the garden talking of grown up things. Marta dissolving into adorable gap-toothed giggles as the little girl regaled her with tales from her magical fantasy world of princesses, fairies and unicorns. Motherhood - she had not known that such happiness was possible.

The only lingering sadness in her heart was that she had not yet fallen pregnant. When she had finally had the courage to bring up her worries with Georg a week ago he had been loving and reassuring. "Darling, let God decide how big our family will be. It would be wonderful if have another child. I would love to have an adorable, feisty little girl with strawberry blonde hair like her mother. But if it is not to be, it does not matter. We have a big enough family already".

"But Agathe was able to give you so many children so easily" she had tried to keep the tears out of her voice. He had held her close, one hand cradling her face, gently wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "Oh my love" he paused, his voice husky with emotion, "don't you know you have given me immeasurably precious gifts already? You gave me back the seven children I had lost. You have brought love and grace and beauty into our lives, you have filled our home with joy and music and fun. You have made us a real family again. Those are priceless gifts that I can never repay." He rested his forehead against hers for a while she swallowed her tears. Then he reached for her hand, clasping it in both of his as he kissed her wedding ring. Despite her sadness she felt a skitter of desire run along her spine at the caress. Attempting to lighten the mood he had added with a mock salacious grin "Besides, you have a very demanding and selfish husband who is not yet ready to share you with a baby." Her watery smile turned into a reluctant laugh as he had swept her up in his arms with a dramatic flourish as he added, "and… we are having so much fun trying for a baby". He lowered her onto their bed, her arms going around his neck as he covered her body with his own.

Now, at the dinner table he was looking at her questioningly.

"Darling the children want to go on another picnic to celebrate our anniversary."

"Another one? Good heavens! Welll…" George put a finger to his mouth as he pretended to think about it, while all seven children began a chorus of pleading. He had barely finished his "Alright I suppose we could" before the shouts of his children's hurrahs drowned him out.

How different this dinner was to her first meal here a year ago when she had been a naïve, impulsive young woman filled with purpose, utterly determined to make him see how his neglect of his children was harming both them and himself. The children had been silent, tense and tearful, chastened by her reminder of her vulnerability in a new house. At that dinner he had barely been able to keep his annoyance in check. She seemed impervious to his glares of irritation and his sarcasm, which only served to needle him even more, making him intensely irritated that she refused to be intimidated by his icy demeanour. Something he had rarely – if ever – come across before.

Now however he lifted his glass of wine, his eyes meeting hers over the rim, giving her a quick wink. She felt her heart flip in response. It was part of their secret language of communication they had developed since their marriage. Her very proper aristocratic husband was not given to public displays of affection but the tender looks he gave her, the delicious kisses on her hand with his eyes never leaving hers, the loving smiles more than made up for it.

And in private… well that was another matter entirely. As soon as the door shut on their suite of rooms upstairs he would shed his very respectable visage as they became enveloped in their own private world of intense passion. She did not mind that he maintained his sophisticated mask in public because she thoroughly enjoyed the fact that only she knew what he was like underneath that veneer of restraint. Only she had seen him without his tie and jacket. Only she knew what he looked like shaving in the morning, wearing just a towel around his waist, his hair damp from his shower, a lock of hair falling rakishly over his forehead making him look like a dangerously handsome pirate. Only she knew what he looked like in the throes of passion, his impossibly handsome face flushed and taut with desire, a sheen of dampness on his forehead….

Maria gulped, appalled, as she realized her thoughts had strayed into entirely inappropriate areas for the dinner table, a blush crawling up her face, making Georg look at her with quizzical amusement as she hastily dropped her gaze to her plate. Fortunately none of the children had noticed her embarrassment. After the meal as the children filed out of the dining room ahead of them he waited for her and whispered in her ear as she came up to him. "Were they very naughty thoughts Baroness?" She tried to affect a haughty look and walk past him with dignity. But he held her arm gently, his eyes amused. "Well… yes they were rather" she admitted.

"Ah hah I thought so! How intriguing. Well I look forward to hearing more about them later Baroness." He often called her Baroness, usually in a teasing way to remind her of her initial panic once she realized that she would become part of the wealthy aristocracy once she married him. A role she had neither coveted nor desired and filled with her with terrible anxiety. Over time and with his reassurance and guidance she had become more comfortable with her position though it never held any importance for her. He also sometimes called her 'Fraulein', again in that private teasing way which often made it sound like an endearment, as she sometimes called him 'Captain', both of them gently mocking the previous difference in their status, and their less than ideal start.

To be continued