A/N: Thank you to all who've reviewed/followed/favourited so far! Updates won't always be as frequent as this one but I'll do my best
Chapter One
"Aren't you pleased? I thought this was what you asked for."
"Yes Max, darling, I got exactly what I asked for. But not because I was the one doing the asking."
The impresario frowned, "I'm afraid I don't follow."
Sighing impatiently, Elsa turned to face him, the gravel of the driveway crunching slightly under her heels, "Georg didn't seem very keen on the idea of Paris when I first mentioned it to him. And yet- " she inclined her head toward the scene unfolding in front of them, "here we are."
The impresario followed her gesture just in time to catch Georg's butler attempting - rather unsuccessfully - to wrestle a particularly large suitcase into the back of the family Mercedes. Next to the car sat two slightly smaller suitcases, patiently awaiting their turn.
"Careful with that Franz, the contents of that suitcase is worth more than your annual salary!" Elsa barked, receiving an unimpressed glare from the haughty little man.
"Do you think you packed enough?" Max quipped - making an undignified oomph sound when Elsa responded by smacking him in the abdomen.
"Don't tease me, darling!" She snapped, lighting a cigarette, "Can't you tell I'm distressed?"
"Alright alright," he held his hands up in surrender, "so Georg changed his mind about the trip. Is that so impossible?"
"No just.. highly improbable. The man I know doesn't yield to anyone. Or so I thought."
The impresario gave a non-committal shrug, "I imagine he just couldn't resist the pleas of his doe-eyed children."
Elsa fixed him with a pointed look, "Yes.." she retorted, not without a good dose of irony, "the children.."
Before Max had a chance to quiz her further - though it didn't take a genius to figure out what she might be implying - the very subjects of their conversation suddenly burst through the front door and spilled out onto the driveway, their voices raised in a cacophony of excitement as they pushed and shoved their way to the car. Heading up the throng some moments later - and throwing a hand to her head with a dismayed little moan - was the spritely young governess.
"Good morning baroness, Herr Detweiler," she greeted with a somewhat frantic smile, her eyes darting back to her charges again when they started to wreak havoc mere millimetres from the captain's prized vehicle, "Children wait!" She implored, "Not too close to the-"
"Fraulein!" Came a deep, bellowing voice from somewhere back in the house.
"Ooooh!" the girl moaned again, turning from car to house, to car and back again, clearly unsure as to who she should deal with first - her boisterous charges or their incorrigible father. Either way, she wasn't quite quick enough with her decision, for Georg emerged from the villa at that very moment looking positively murderous.
"Can you please keep your charges under control long enough for us to actually make our train?" he barked, "It'll be a miracle if we even make it at this rate."
Irritated by his foul mood, Maria found herself blurting out a retort before she had a chance to curb her tongue, "Forgive me sir, but it's you everyone's waiting on."
The sudden look of surprise on the captain's face at being spoken to in such a manner was quickly replaced by a thunderous scowl - but she was saved from his verbal throttling by a timely interruption from Herr Detweiler.
"Ha, she's right Georg," the impresario chortled, checking his watch, "I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you're late!"
"I'm never late," the captain announced sharply, "everyone else is simply early."
Maria couldn't help but roll her eyes. As much as she and her employer had formed a truce of sorts over the past few weeks, he was still utterly impossible when he was like this - in one of his stubborn, irritable moods. But at least she knew how to deal with him when he was being an insufferable boar. His scowl she could handle - after all, she gave as good as she got and he knew it! It was the other times that she found herself floundering: the times when he was kind to her, when he would tease her, when she would notice him gazing at her as though he was looking upon some rare bird or delicate flower. He'd looked at her that way the night of the puppet show, not to mention the evening that Baroness Shraeder had insisted on this very trip.
It still didn't feel real to Maria that she was actually going to the French capital with a distinguished aristocratic family and their esteemed guests. She'd hardly dared to believe it when the captain had first informed her of his decision.
"Me? Come to Paris?" She'd gawped, unsure what was more surprising: the fact that he was inviting her along, or the fact that he'd changed his mind about the trip in the first place.
"But of course," he'd insisted innocently, "I thought you'd be pleased. Don't you want to see Paris?"
"Yes I'd love to, Captain! But I wouldn't want to intrude-"
He'd waved her concerns away with a flick of his hand, "Nonsense. The children will be twice as excited as they normally are, which means they'll be twice as difficult. I'm going to need all the help I can get, so I'm placing you in command, Fraulein! Or should I say- " he'd bowed then with the smallest of smirks that had set her stomach curiously aflutter, "mademoiselle."
Unable to hide her excitement, she'd clapped her hands together in triumph and he'd surprised her once again by laughing heartily - a deep, earnest laugh that lit up his noble profile and left his eyes shining with mirth. It was moments like that that she tried not to dwell upon too much, lest her imagination should run away with itself.
"Georg?" Baroness Shraeder trilled sweetly, bringing Maria back to the present, "should we depart soon? We certainly don't want to lose out on the first class cart."
It seemed the socialite was somehow excused from the captain's irritable mood because, rather than throwing her the same scowl he'd bestowed upon Maria, he instead fixed her with a disarming smile and a flirtatious wink, "I reserved the best seats on the train just for you, darling."
The statement clearly had its desired effect, for the baroness practically glowed under his attentions, and Maria fought hard to cover a snort in response to the woman's silliness, not to mention the captain's barefaced arrogance. Did he think he could simply flash a smile at any woman within a fifty mile radius and they would become putty in his hands? Thank heavens she was promised to God and was therefore above such nonsense.
Unfortunately for Maria, her snort hadn't gone unnoticed by the Captain, whose patrician eyebrows shot so far into his hairline she thought they might never come down again. Blushing a deep shade of pink, she tried unsuccessfully to disguise the sound with a pitiful cough.
"Something the matter, Fraulein?" the captain purred dangerously.
"Oh no sir, not at all," she chirped, "Just a tickle in my throat."
"Is that so?" He enquired with mock fascination, "for a moment I thought D'Artagnan had decided to travel with us!"
Maria gave an outraged little moan at the barb - for D'Artagnan was her employer's monstrous horse! Thoroughly affronted, she opened her mouth to defend herself, when suddenly she caught a glimpse of it: the tiniest hint of a mischievous grin pulling at his lips as he turned away from her. It was all she could do not to choke in surprise; the insufferable man was winding her up! Well, she thought smugly, two could play at that game!
"That would make one horse and one boar amongst today's passengers, sir," she remarked defiantly before flouncing off in the direction of the children, her chin held high. She'd been sorely tempted to say pigheaded boar but, judging by the way the captain's mouth fell open as she made her escape, it seemed her remark had hit home with scorching precision.
"I don't think we're all going to fit," Kurt pointed out the obvious, gesturing to the back seat.
"Right you are, Kurt," the captain approached, ruffling the boy's hair, "I'll be taking Leisl, Friedrich and Louisa first, along with Baroness Shraeder and Uncle Max," then, turning to Maria, he added, "I'll come back for you and the little ones shortly afterward."
"Oh there's no need to take two trips captain," Maria insisted happily, "We could get the bus, right children?"
From somewhere behind them the baroness made a strangled noise as though someone had just suggested they wade through raw sewage.
"Well we might need a bus at this rate, just for the rest of Elsa's luggage!" Herr Detweiler pointed out, receiving another deft swipe from the socialite. And for a brief moment, Maria felt like she and the captain were on the same team again, for he sought out her gaze while no one else was watching and rolled his eyes, as if to say "sometimes, I feel like we're dealing with nine children, not seven!" Amused, she bit back a giggle.
"No one is getting the bus," he announced to the group, "except for Franz, who will be meeting us in town to bring the car back home. Now- " he opened the back door of the vehicle and jutted his chin at his eldest children, "last one in has to sit next to uncle Max all the way to France!"
Within a couple of minutes the car was full and Maria was trying desperately not to laugh at the sight of poor Leisl, Louisa, Friedrich and Herr Detweiler squished into the back seat alongside the various shoe boxes and hat cases that Baroness Shraeder had deemed too important to leave behind.
"Right!" The captain declared, clapping his palms against the steering wheel, "let's get going, shall we?" Without further delay he moved to put the key in the ignition when-
"Wait, Georg!" The baroness panicked from her place on the passenger side, "I've forgotten to pack my-"
But the rest of the woman's sentence was rather conveniently drowned out by the sound of the engine roaring to life. And there was no doubt in Maria's mind - as her employer flashed her another one of his barely-perceptible smirks and then sped off down the driveway - that he had turned the key quite deliberately.
She was staring at him in that peculiar way again, clearly under the false pretence that he was too busy driving to notice her scrutiny. But he had noticed. He always did - at least when it was Fraulein Maria doing the staring. In all her guileless innocence, she really had no idea how much she was giving away with a look like that, nor the effect it could have on a man.
But Georg was experienced enough in the ways of the world to recognise what it might mean, for pity's sake - even if she had no idea. His own attraction to the little governess was one thing. After all, it was purely physical - a passing curiosity that would soon run its course, he was sure. But the realisation that Fraulein Maria might actually return his little infatuation - well, that was a different thing entirely. A very dangerous thing.
He was sorely tempted to ask her what she found so fascinating - just so he could see that delectable blush of hers - but he was loathe to draw attention to it in case she tore her gaze away. The truth was, contrary to how he'd felt on the first day of their acquaintance, he rather liked it when she studied him with such open curiosity - dangerous though it may be. And so he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the road, basking in the acute pleasure that her approval brought him.
It seemed however, that he wasn't the only one to notice the governess's little indiscretion.
"Fraulein Maria, why do you stare at father that way?" Brigitta asked innocently from the back seat.
Jumping out of her daze, the Fraulein turned crimson and hastily diverted her eyes to the countryside, "I wasn't staring!" she protested vehemently, "I was just trying to work out why your father insists on driving so fast."
Clearly amused, the captain quirked an eyebrow in her direction that suggested he'd seen right through her little fib and so she hastened to change the subject as quickly as possible.
"Come children," she turned in her seat, clapping her hands together, "let's practice our French shall we? Es-tu excité d'aller à Paris?"
"Oui!" The little ones cried with equal enthusiasm.
"Bon!" she grinned at them, "Alors, que ferons-nous quand nous-"
She stopped short when she noticed the captain was the one now staring at her, completely astonished.
"What?" She asked him self-consciously.
"You speak french, Fraulein!"
"Oh, just a little," she shrugged modestly, "enough to get by anyhow."
Was it her imagination or was there a hint of admiration in his eyes?
"Well I must say I'm very much impressed!"
He'd meant it as a compliment of course, but it must've come out wrong because her eyebrows knitted at him and she turned to face the road again, her arms crossed defensively over her chest.
"I did receive a solid education captain," she bristled, "basic as it may appear to someone like you."
Someone like him, he pondered, wondering what on Earth she could possibly mean by that. It had sounded rather like an accusation, like venom on her tongue - and he supposed he rather deserved it, given the fact he'd just managed to insult her yet again.
"I'm sorry, Fräulein," he fumbled. Why was it that she always managed to put him firmly in his place? "I didn't mean to patronise you. You just.."
When he didn't finish his sentence, she turned to him sharply, "I just what? Appear uneducated? Am too sheltered to learn?"
Somewhat sheepishly he tugged on his ear, a habit that Maria was starting to find rather endearing, though she'd never admit it to a soul.
"Well actually," he chuckled nervously, his eyes fixed to the road, "I was going to say you just never fail to surprise me!"
He looked at her earnestly then, and Maria simply didn't know what to say. She, Maria Rainer, mountain girl and future nun, surprised him? The esteemed and decorated Captain Georg Von Trapp of the Austro-Hungarian Imperial Navy? The very notion seemed entirely disarming. As did his gaze.
"Oh," was all she managed, unwilling and unable to look away from him.
"Pray tell me," he said some moments later, breaking the tension as he looked back to the road, "où as-tu appris à parler français?"
He knew he was forgiven for his previous faux-pas when she rewarded him with a wide smile.
"She learnt at the abbey father!" Marta answered the question for her governess proudly, "Didn't you know that?"
No - he didn't know that. In fact there were a great number of things he didn't know about this woman, mainly because he'd been too busy barking orders at her or insulting her to bother asking. He made a mental note to remedy that fact immediately because the more he discovered about her, the more he found himself wanting to learn.
"The abbey?" It seemed a rather unlikely place to learn another language, he thought.
"Yes, captain. There was a young french boy at the orphanage we volunteered at who didn't speak a word of German. No one knew who'd left him there or where he'd come from and the poor thing was terrified. So I taught myself to speak to him. It took me a while but it was worth it, in the end."
Georg found himself oddly tongue-tied for a moment, moved by the strength of her compassion - the very same compassion she had shown his own children when they'd had no one else to guide them.
"I.. " he floundered humbly, unsure of how to voice the sudden wave of gratitude that overcame him. In the end he settled for the plain and simple truth, "that was a wonderfully selfless thing to do, Fraulein," he hoped she somehow understood he wasn't just talking about the french boy, "You ought to be very proud."
A grave, yet charged silence followed - one in which the softness of his words coiled around her insides like molten honey and left her yearning for an elusive something she didn't understand. The only sound left was that of the children as they talked happily amongst themselves in the back, and Maria was beyond relieved that they were present. She didn't think she would've been able to bear it if she and the captain had been alone.
"What else have you learnt during your time at the abbey?" He asked her some moments later, saving her from her unwanted thoughts.
She pondered his question for a moment.
"That when the lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window."
"Naturally, naturally.."
"And that we must find out the will of God and do it wholeheartedly."
"Of course, that goes without saying."
"And that the gaps in the stone make for excellent foot holds."
"Absolu- wait, what?!"
While neither of them had any way of knowing it yet, in only a matter of months Georg would be using those very same foot holds to sneak a visit with his fiancé during their pre-wedding separation. For now though, he could only gawp at his governess. Had he heard her right?
"Well sometimes it's just faster to get in and out that way, Captain!" She babbled in her own defence, "Much like the trellis beneath my bedroom window."
At that, she clapped a hand over her mouth with eyes blown wide, clearly horrified by her own admission. Behind them, Georg could hear the little ones biting back conspiratorial giggles.
"My trellis?"
"Err..."
"Yes father," Gretl interjected excitedly, "Louisa can make it with a whole jar of-" but the girl was instantly silenced by her brother, who began suffering from a rather loud bout of coughing just in the nick of time.
"O-ho, trees, stone walls and now trellises, Fraulein? Is there anything you can't climb?"
Perhaps the ladder of your impossible expectations, she wanted to retort - but instead she said with a shrug, "I'm a firm believer in saving time where possible, sir."
"This coming from someone who's always late for everything," he smirked, secretly delighting in the fact that she rolled her eyes at him.
"Not everything..."
"Most things."
"Well at least I'm on time for the train," she pointed out optimistically, "that counts for something doesn't it?"
"Right you are, Fraulein," he grinned, "right you are."
They did indeed have plenty of time before their train was due to depart. Just enough time, in fact, for Georg to subconsciously ease off the accelerator so that he might enjoy bickering with his outspoken governess just a little while longer.