A/N: Your reviews yesterday made my day. Thank you, everybody! Here is another chapter - one of my favorites in this story.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer (I keep forgetting that): See chapter 1.

Edelweiss

Chapter III

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To live in hearts we leave behind

Is not to die.

Thomas Campbell, Hallowed Ground

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Nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it.

Michel de Montaigne

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"At least it is not raining so heavily anymore," Maria said forlornly, as she closed the heavy iron gates of the von Trapp villa behind her. The heavy rain had not stopped completely – instead, it had turned into a light drizzle that at least allowed her to walk the distance to the bus stop in Aigen-bei-Salzburg without being soaked to the skin. With a heartfelt sigh, she stole a quick glance back to the house before she started walking down the road.

After living for scarcely a month in that place, a significant part of her already called it home. For Maria it was something very meaningful, because in all her life the only other place she dared to call home before had been Nonnberg Abbey. She was never at home with her uncle and aunt; they made it clear to her that she was nothing but a burden to them. To look after her had been their obligation, nothing more, and they never made any effort to hide that fact from her. Luckily, she had been accepted at Nonnberg when things became too much too bear, but it had hurt again when the Reverend Mother told her she had to leave for a while. Yet, it had been not only time, but the von Trapp family children, that healed her pain and she was just beginning to believe that she could find a home of her own, if she wanted to. Not only the children, but also, quite strangely, their fascinating, dark, brooding father…

It was absurd, she knew that.

She knew that she had no right to feel that way. It was their home, their family. The illustrious, notorious, sometimes eccentric, undoubtedly highborn von Trapps with all their fortune and glory… It was not her family and she had no right to adopt them like that, but that stubborn part of her did not agree at all. When, in occasions like these, she was reminded that the wonderful house and magnificent gardens, the lovely glass walled gazebo, the lake and privileged view of her beloved Untersberg, and the adorable seven children did not belong to her at all, that they were not her home… Oh well, it did hurt like hell, and it should not. She should have gotten used to that kind of feeling at that point in her life.

If she only had been asked to go to Innsbruck with the children…

She had never been to that part of Austria before – in fact, she had never been anywhere before, except Vienna, where she had completed her studies at the Progressive School. Frau Schmidt found it rather strange that she had not been asked to go with the children, and told her that they were usually accompanied by a governess whenever they visited their grandparents in Innsbruck or Vienna. It didn't make any sense at all to Maria as well, because she believe that that was exactly why rich people hired governesses – to help them deal with cumbersome children when they became too annoying to bear, or when they wanted the little ones out of their way so that they could engage in their aristocratic activities such as horseback riding in the countryside or attending grand and glorious parties.

"Captain's orders." – It was the only explanation she got from the housekeeper when she questioned the woman. According to Frau Schmidt, due to the unpleasant experiences the Captain had with some of her eleven predecessors, it seemed that, this time, that the Whiteheads wished to enjoy the company of Agathe´s children without having any strangers nearby… And by strangers they meant a governess that probably wouldn't last until the end of the summer.

After leaving the Captain in the ballroom, she had wandered aimlessly around the house for at least half an hour, desperately trying to find something to do. When she noticed that it had stopped raining, her spirits brightened again, and she got ready to leave, at the same time wondering why in heavens it was so important for the Captain to have her out of the house that day. For such a logical, rational man they claimed him to be, it was rather illogical that he had not sent her to Innsbruck with the children, but now he wanted her out of his sight. At the same time, she also knew that the Captain never did anything without a very strong motive. It was all about strategies and advanced planning with him. There had to be a reason other than not to have her interfering with the running of the household or doing chores that were not a part of her job.

She wondered if it had anything at all to do with those mysterious boxes that had arrived that morning from a certain Professor from Hallein...

The doors to the mirrored ballroom were still open when she passed it on her way out, and she could not resist taking a quick peek inside. There was no sign of Frau Schmidt or Frau Poppmeier, nor of any of the maids. Instead, Herr Schmidt was there with two helpers she had never met before, and they were furiously working, trying to put something together, while Franz surveyed everything with the usual haughty disdain. All the boxes were opened and its contents scattered all over the floor. She frowned, trying to guess what they were building. It looked almost like they were trying—and failing--to put together the pieces of a puzzle, because they were caught up in a heated debate about the exact manner to join two very simple pieces. Only one box remained untouched. She had no time to find out what it was, because the butler, coming from somewhere inside the room, suddenly but firmly shut the doors, nearly bruising her nose in the process.

"Oooohhh…" Maria moaned loudly, her hand scratching her nose. She had escaped being hit by the banging door only because of her quick reflexes. "That was rude!"

She heard the familiar low, ironic chuckle behind her, and turned around, holding her chin up.

"He didn't have to do that!" she protested indignantly, facing the Captain who was descending the stairs. "It was very… ungentlemanly of him. All he had to do was ask me to leave."

"What are you doing?" he asked simply.

She decided to solemnly ignore his black look and make one last attempt to try to rescue herself from her apathy. While wandering around the house, she had discovered that Frau Poppmeier needed help with her sewing, since the Baroness needed a few of her dresses altered, and it would be so wonderful if she could do something useful again.

"Captain…" she began hesitantly. "Frau Poppmeier needs help with the Baroness's, and I was wondering if I…"

"Don't even think it!" was his curt, definite reply. His gaze held hers, daring her to defy him. "You are her to look after my children, not to fix Baroness Schraeder´s frocks."

"I know, but the children are not here, and I simply do not handle idleness well, Captain. It is driving me crazy," she admitted. "If at least you'd let me go with them!"

"Yes, yes, I realize now that I should have let you go with them." Maria's eyes widened – it was probably the first time she had heard him admitting a mistake. "Unfortunately that cannot be changed now, can it?" Maria straightened herself – was he really sorry he did not send her away with the children?

His next words would prove her right.

"Your idleness is driving me insane as well, Fräulein. Evidently, we cannot turn back time, so I suggest you start learning how to deal with tedium at least once a week from now on because..."

"But…"

"… because I have no intention of becoming a slave driver."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to imply that!"

"All my employees are entitled to their rest periods, and I see no reason for making an exception in your case."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed loudly, as soon as she detected a slight flaw in his usually impeccable reasoning. "I am not an employee." He rolled his eyes heavenward. "You said it so, and so did the Reverend Mother. It was all made very clear to me before I left. I am on loan to you."

"Yes, so you are, but I still see no reason why…"

"You see," she dared to interrupt him, ignoring his incensed glance when she did so, "I am used to hard and constant work. I thought this was precisely one the reasons why I was hired…"

"… loaned," he corrected sardonically.

"The reason I was loaned to you in the first place," she corrected herself. "If I could just…"

"No."

"I know, I know," she sighed. "If you want me out of your sight, I will be out of your sight. I am going out." Still mumbling something about him being a slave driver anyway, she walked past him towards the door.

She planned to go the Abbey at first. She missed her friends dearly, and she missed the nuns most of all - even Sister Berthe who did nothing but scold her all the time. At least in Nonnberg she would not be banished from every room she walked into, and every little work she could possibly do would be welcome… well, at least in theory.

Walking towards the nearby village of Aigen, where she would be catching the bus, Maria had forgotten, however, that she was in Salzburgerland, and, in Salzburgerland, when it rains, it pours. She had barely reached the corner when the drizzle turned into a fiery storm again. With only her leather hat protecting her, she had no choice but to run back to the villa. Not wishing to be caught by the Captain in her wet clothes again, she ran straight to her bedroom to change into dry clothes quickly. Moaning and mumbling about her tedious misery, she opened the doors of her wardrobe with such force that for a second she feared she had broken them. It would not be completely unprecedented – it had happened before during some of her not so infrequent tantrums.

She missed the small object at first, a carved wooden box, lying in the floor of her wardrobe, half hidden beneath the folds of her hanging dresses. It wasn't until she reached for her drab grey gown that she finally found it. It was certainly not there the last time she opened the wardrobe, the previous evening.

After putting on her dress as fast as she possibly could, she picked up the box. Underneath it, she found was a short, handwritten note. It was from Liesl:

Fräulein Maria,

I thought you would like to see with our own eyes where we came from, and how things were "before". It will also help you to understand why I was so concerned about what we talked the other day…

My mother to call this her "box of memories". She used to carry it with her wherever she went, but after she died, father had it locked in the attic, along with everything else that belonged to her. Please, do not let father or anyone else see it; otherwise we will all be in serious trouble. More than that, I don´t think he could bear it if he saw this around the house. You may leave it where you found it when you are done – I will return it to the attic as soon as we get back from Innsbruck.

Liesl.

"Oh Liesl, you did not have to do this!" Maria exclaimed aloud.

She knew very well why Liesl had done such a thing. The only time that the girl had asked to have a private talk with her, much to her amazement, had not been to confide about secret encounters in the gazebo with a certain telegram deliverer. The Captain's eldest child was worried about the mere possibility that her father might not remain unmarried forever…

It had been one of those confusing moments for Maria; one of those occasions she regretted the fact that she had no previous experience as a governess. Liesl´s question, not unlike Marta's question about how babies were born, was also far from the realm of her own experiences.

"Fräulein, what do you think? Do you think he is bringing the Baroness to meet us because he wants to marry her?" Liesl had asked, wide-eyed. "Because he does not have to marry because of us. Especially now when we have you!"

"You'll only have me until September, Liesl, remember?" she had reminded her gently. She did not have the heart, however, to answer the girl's question.

Yes, it was clear to her that indeed yes, the Captain was bringing the Viennese lady with him, the Baroness, to introduce her to his children because he wanted to make her his new wife. Frau Schmidt had hinted the possibility clearly enough in her very first night in the house, so she had little or no doubt about the nature of the Captain's plans.

"If you ask me, the Captain's thinking very seriously of marrying the woman before the summer's over…"

She had even thanked the Lord because the housekeeper had helped her to see the exact nature of her mission there – to prepare the children for a new mother.

However, she could not be absolutely reveal that to Liesl, not until the girl knew how to deal with the possibility of another woman occupying her mother's place, if not in their hearts, at least in name only. If she did tell Liesl what she'd heard from Frau Schmidt, it would make her no different than the gossiping maids who were constantly speculating about the exact nature of the Captain's relationship with Baroness Schraeder.

On the other hand, honesty, Maria knew, was the most wonderful of all virtues. She still could be truthful to what she knew and was sure about. She could be forthright about her own uncertainty…

"Oh Liesl, I am not sure what you want me to say. I don´t know! I can't know. This is so far away from the world I live in – or at least the world I used to live in. I have no idea how these things work in families like yours! But I wouldn't worry about something that no one is sure about. It is not good to suffer in anticipation."

"But…"

"You should trust your father, darling. I am sure he would make no decision without considering you children first, least of all such an important one."

"Oh, I don´t know about that, Fräulein. He's been so distant since mother died!"

In spite of Liesl´s last remark, Maria had felt reasonably satisfied with her answer, but she had a feeling that the matter would not simply end there.

Now, sitting on the floor, she run her fingers to the wood carved box again, and found the lid.

"At least now I have something to occupy my time for the moment," she thought.

Surprisingly, she had no difficulty in opening it, which led her to believe that many times before; the children had removed the box from its hiding place in the attic just to look at the little treasures kept inside. Maybe not only the children, she wondered – maybe the Captain himself, from time to time, needed to look at those images again, even if only to convince himself – as the children were trying to convince her – that everything that had happened in his past had been real. That she – Agathe – had been real, and not only the ghost that now haunted his memory.

She opened the box slowly, almost reverently, and not without some hesitation. She wondered if the younger children knew about Liesl´s gesture, and she was fully conscious of the fact that with it they had placed their full and complete trust on her. It was a priceless gift, but also a perilous one, because it could lead her thoughts back to a very dangerous direction. Only moments before, she had been brooding about whether it was right or not, that with every passing day she was beginning to see the Trapp villa as her home and not merely as the place she worked. Oh, it would be risky to continue living that fantasy; she was clever enough to realize that. It would make leaving unbearably painful, even if she still had no doubt about what she wanted – to become a nun.

Also, maybe it was simply wrong. Maybe it was wrong of her to look inside that box filled with memories of happier times; maybe she was going to intrude into something that was just much too private. Maybe she absolutely had no right to do that. She would be in trouble like never before if he ever caught her! He would never, ever forgive her. Maria wondered if he was still powerful enough to call the fury of the Holy Inquisition upon her. She would be locked in a dungeon, burned at the stake…

At the same time, it had been Liesl who asked her to look at what was there. Liesl, who was among the children probably the most affected by her mother's death at the moment, since she was at such an impressionable age. Liesl, who was apparently the only one who had the exact idea why the Captain was bringing a woman from Vienna to visit them all… No, she had to help her. She was one of the children, and her task there was to do everything she could to help them. If the girl thought that the photographs would help her to help them, then she had to look. There was no way she could turn her back on the children, even if doing so proved to be dangerous to her peace of mind.

Photographs were not the only contents of the box, she realized as soon as it was fully opened. There were also old letters, dried flowers, satin ribbons crystal beads, and a myriad of tiny objects that the children's mother had probably collected since she was a young girl, each little thing a reminder of a meaningful moment of her short life. Some of them she doubted that the children, and even the Captain, would know the meaning of.

On top of it all, the first picture revealed the first Baroness Agathe von Trapp to Maria's eyes for the first time.

Apparently, she was dressed for a costume ball, for she looked almost like the splitting image of Elisabeth of Bavaria - or Empress Sissi, as she appeared in what was probably her most well known portrait (1). It was one in which she were a beautiful ball gown and diamond stars in her hair so that it looked like it was sprinkled with Edelweiss. The Captain's wife did not look as young as the Empress, and Maria immediately concluded that the picture was taken not too long before she died.

"Maybe when she wore that gown the last time there was a ball here. The last event before the ballroom was closed…" she imagined.

But there was another meaningful difference.

If she had expected a blinding beauty like Sissi was, she discovered that Agathe Whitehead von Trapp was not. It was a strange feeling, almost like a small shock to Maria. Somehow, she had always expected that a man as dashing as Captain von Trapp would have married a raving beauty. His current love interest the Baroness Schraeder was a stunning woman, so Maria never had any reason to believe his first wife had been anything else but that. The fact alone spoke volumes about that complex man's personality, in a way that was utterly vexing to Maria, to say the least.

"Every time I think I will find a reason to dislike him, I discover a little something that makes me admire him even more… Why is that?" she asked herself.

Although not exactly beautiful, the first Baroness von Trapp did have an interesting face that spoke of the kind woman everyone claimed her to be. No, she was not a beauty, but she was no plain Jane either. The Baroness did have an attractive profile, the kind that would not be missed in a crowd, simply because it was too interesting to be missed. Her smiling eyes sparkled with vivid intelligence, and Maria instantly imagined that it was probably one of the things that made her so attractive to the Captain.

Oh, she could very well see a little bit of all the children in that face. Brigitta and Gretl, for instance, as far as she could tell, had the exact eye color, while the shape of her eyes was unmistakably Louisa's. The delicate nose was Liesl´s, and the mischievous glint in her eyes could only be Kurt's. Her stubborn chin reminded Maria of Friedrich. And Marta… Maria squinted, trying to find Marta in her mother's image, only to realize that she was, in fact, everywhere, and she was actually looking at a photograph of what the seven year old would look like when she grew up.

Maria wondered if she would find a picture of the Captain dressed as the Emperor, but soon dismissed the idea with a giggle. No, she could not picture him wearing any kind of costume, least of all to imitate the man who had decorated him. He certainly would find it most… disrespectful!

When her eyes dropped to the next photograph in the pile, she was so distracted that at first she failed to hear the first insistent knock on her bedroom's door. Agathe´s first photograph dropped from her hand, and her breath caught, as she realized she was looking at a very classic wedding picture. Maria only had eyes for the couple in the center – the other relatives surrounding them seemed to melt into the background. Since the first Baroness von Trapp was the one she was most curious about at the moment, it was to her that Maria's eyes went first.

"She was so tiny and delicate," she whispered, as it was the first thought that came to her head. It wasn't only that. She could almost swear that the woman she was looking at had never stumbled, not even a single time in her life. She had never dropped anything, broken anything, never crashed into other people. Least of all, she probably never had even dreamed of doing anything so unladylike such as walking barefoot, whistling, climbing a tree, walking in the rain, or falling in a lake. Twice. Most of all, she certainly did not have a running mouth, so she never had the problem of saying the wrong thing at the worst possible time.

"She was a true princess," she sighed. "I wager this one could and would feel one single pea underneath dozens of thick mattresses…" (2)

Every little detail of her stance, as she stood proudly next to her husband, spoke of her highborn, privileged upbringing, from her soft, but confident smile as she looked straight at the camera, to her impeccable, straight posture. Her dress was the most typical bridal gown Maria could ever have imagined. Fit for a princess. A long veil made of exquisite lace fell from her head – Venetian lace, as Maria would learn later. Her head was crowned not by flowers, but by a tiara – most probably a precious family heirloom that would be worn, in the future, by one of the von Trapp girls on her wedding day. Her right hand, with a gleaming gold band, rested trustingly in her husband's arm…

She had seen the twin of that wedding band before, worn by the man standing proudly next to Agathe von Trapp. She had not dared to look at him yet, but is she closed her eyes, she would remember the thick gold band in his right band. Opening her eyes again, she focused her attention on the groom, taking in every detail of his appearance she possibly could.

Dressed in his military gala uniform, Georg von Trapp was not looking at the photographer like his bride was. He was gazing down at his new wife, and he had such an intense look in his eyes that Maria felt her throat tighten. Her reaction was strong enough to make her ask herself, months later, if that look in his eyes was what she had been afraid to see. Somehow, she had not been prepared for it. It was then – and only then – that Maria realize the full depth of that man's grief.

Love – at least the love between a man and a woman – was something she had never been exposed to. She had an inkling it existed based on the few novels she had read. Certainly whatever feelings her foster parents had for one another, love wasn't among them, because not once she had seen her uncle looking at her aunt the way the Captain was looking at his bride in that old photograph. For the briefest, maddest moment, she felt an inexplicable stab of jealousy of the woman who had lived briefly, but only enough to be deserving of such look.

She allowed the bride to melt into the background of the photograph with the other relatives, and looked at him.

"So that is how he wasbefore he lost both the Navy and the woman he loved," Maria thought.

She did not have the time to dwell upon the details of the young Georg von Trapp´s appearance any longer, because she finally heard the knock. With it, she could almost swear came the sound of a muffled "Fräulein!", but she dismissed the idea, shaking her head. The only time the Captain had showed up at her bedroom door had been that first night when all his seven children were there, and they were all singing and throwing pillows at each other. That night, she had carelessly left the door open so that he did not even have to knock – he had just walked right in, appalled by the whole bedlam before his eyes. Of course the children had been the only reason he'd paid a visit to the servants' quarters, and since the children were not in the house, she saw no reason why he would do so again. No, it was most certainly her overactive imagination again, since it was him, the Captain, who was occupying her thoughts for the past few minutes while she had been engrossed by that wedding picture.

The "Fräulein!" may not have been real, but the knock certainly was. It sounded yet again, far more emphatic and commanding this time. It did not sound at all like Frau Schmidt's soft, gentle knock that she had learned to recognize over the past weeks. She had simply no idea who it was.

"Just a moment!" she said, closing the box and hastily throwing it inside her wardrobe again. "Wait!" she yelled angrily, after she heard the sound once again.

She yanked the bedroom door open, so quickly and suddenly that her startled visitor had to take a small step back.

"Yes?!............... Oh!"

Of all the people in the household, he would be the last one she would expect. She looked at him in shock, feeling all the blood drain from her face.

"Oh?" he echoed, amusingly, with a half grin.

Instantly, she felt the blood rushing back to her face, so that she went from deadly pale to beet red in a second. It was a most uncomfortable feeling, and yet, unfortunately, one she was getting used to by now.

She gulped.

The truth was that she was trying hard to get used to this Captain, and so far, it was proving to be not such an easy task. Oh, she could deal with the dark, angry one, the one with the foul moods easily – she had done so brilliantly days before. The Captain in the wedding photograph, and the one from the children's stories – that one she was yet to meet, so she could not absolutely be certain. But this Captain standing before her was the most dangerous of them all. He was an amalgam of the other two. Unlike the others, he was the one with the unique talent of turning her mind into a blank canvas and making her forget such simple basic acts, such as breathing and thinking.

"Don't be silly, Maria," she told herself. "They are all one and the same. There aren't three Captains, just one. And you have dealt with him just fine in many occasions before."

"I thought I might find you here, praying to be rescued from the depths of your lassitude," he said playfully while she still looked at him, dumbfounded. "I was right, but you look exactly like my children whenever I catch them doing something wrong and they try to hide it and fail dismally."

She swallowed and, much to her horror, she felt her blush increase. She had been doing something wrong, hadn't she? At least it was something he would find unforgivable. Now she was afraid that the truth was written all over her face, but, oddly enough, he seemed to be unaware of it. He still started at her flushed self with that half smile in his handsome face.

"I just… I did not expect to see you here of all places… ehm… Captain," she said cautiously, choosing the words carefully so that she would not betray herself.

"Yes, I realize that is most unusual. Forgive me, Fräulein, I tried to find Frau Schmidt to summon you, but I was… uh… in a little bit of a hurry and…" He shook his head impatiently, and for a second, the angry Captain was back. Maria could almost read what he was thinking. Why would he have to explain why he had come to her room anyway? He was the lord and master of the house, he had every right to knock at her door if he felt necessary. He did not have to justify the fact to her.

"Fräulein?" he repeated, when he noticed that she had done nothing but to stare at him, mesmerized during his brief explanation.

If he had realized she was hardly listening to what he was saying, he was right. Thoughts were flying crazily in her mind, and Maria did not know what caused her more perplexity: his presence at her bedroom door, or the fact that the picture of him, young and proud in a Naval uniform and next to his wife, refused to leave her mind. Or the fact that he was there just after she had seen those photographs for the first time.

Oh, it was impossible not to compare.

The one in the photograph and the one standing in front of her right now – past and present. The loving husband and father, the almost mythical Navy captain she had heard tales about; and the bitter, grieving man she was trying so hard to understand in order to help the children. There was no sign of a single gray strand in the hair of the Captain in the photograph, but perhaps that was only the most perceivable difference. His body had changed little over the years, although obviously looked less youthful, and more… manly. Instead of the warm, loving gaze he was directing to his wife, his eyes now pierced hers, with an intensity she could not yet fully comprehend.

She soon realized that she too, was being subjected to a quick, but close scrutiny by him. He quickly scanned her appearance, from head to toe. Her dowdy dress and her hair, still damp from the rain… A few other incongruous thoughts ran through her head, as she dared to compare her appearance with the one of the aristocratic lady he had been married too.

"Hmmm… yes?"

He smirked at her

"Please, don´t tell me you fell in the lake again!"

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A/N: (1) The portrait I have in mind is one painted by Franz Xavier Winterhalter. (2) This is a slight reference to the first story I ever published – "The Baroness and the Pìne Cone".