At last, the time of the much-anticipated puppet show arrived. After dinner, the children ran to the ballroom, so excited for their performance that Elsa at first wondered if little Marta wasn't going to be ill from the anticipation. Next came relief - that if the girl were to get sick, she wouldn't have to be the one dealing with it, followed closely by the now-common vow to herself to make sure Georg would be willing to keep the governess after the summer.
When Max and Elsa finally meandered into the ballroom, the children and Maria were nowhere to be seen, but they spied Georg over at the puppet stage, peeking his head behind the curtains. The children could all be heard telling him to go sit down, wait, or go away; and Elsa smiled as he tiptoed carefully toward her, his finger to his lips asking for quiet. Once he sat down, the show began.
It was a sight to behold-the children singing a song about a goatherd, manipulating the puppets. Several times Elsa glanced at Georg, enjoying his delight in their performance. When the children finished, he was first with the applause and cries of "Bravo! Bravo!", and of course she and Max joined in. The children were, in fact, quite talented, and under the tutelage of their young governess had done a lovely job.
Elsa watched as the children hurried out from their places in and around the large puppet stage, excited to hear what their father and beloved "uncle" had to say. Congratulatory words and a smattering of hugs commenced.
"Can we keep the puppets, Uncle Max?" "Yes, can we?" the children asked, talking over one another.
"Of course you may, my darlings. Why else did I tell Professor Kohner to send the bill to your father?" Max replied. Elsa heard to the exchange, but her attention was focused on Georg, headed straight for Fraulein Maria, who leaned against the corner of the stage and exhaled dramatically, exhausted.
Georg smiled, and spoke softly. "Well done, Fräulein. I really am very much impressed."
The young woman grinned brightly, and shrugged her shoulders. "They're your children, Captain." The two stood, gazing at one another, for longer than was proper.
Elsa immediately realized Maria had no idea how flirtatious she was, how complimentary of Georg she had just been. She moved in quickly, and took Georg's arm, as he turned and began to follow the children and Max out of the room.
"My dear, is there anything you can't do?" As the words left her mouth, Elsa realized how hollow they sounded, and mentally kicked herself. She hadn't intended to come off as condescending. Fortunately, the governess seemed not to notice.
"Well, I'm not sure I'll make a very good nun," Maria stated honestly.
"If you have any problems, I'd be happy to help you." Oh, Elsa, you twit! What do you know about becoming a nun?
As the family gathered on their way to the salon, Max called out, "Attention, everyone! I have an announcement to make. Today, after a long and desperate search. . .I have found a most exciting entry for the Salzburg Folk Festival."
"Congratulations, Max. And who will you be exploiting this time?" Georg snarked.
Elsa guessed the St. Ignatius Choir, Georg the Klopmann Choir. Max denied both.
"No, no? Tell us." Elsa could hear the irritation growing in Georg's voice.
"A singing group all in one family. You'll never guess, Georg."
"What a charming idea!" Georg exclaimed sarcastically. "Uh, whose family?"
"Yours," Max stated. Elsa could feel the excitement of the children fill the room. "They'll be the talk of the festival," he added, as Georg chortled.
"Well, now, what's so funny?" Max asked, clearly chagrined.
"You are, Max. You're expensive, but very funny," he joked, patting Max's cheek. Elsa wondered briefly if Georg was fighting the impulse to actually hit him. Max continued, and she considered stepping in before Georg finally lost his temper.
"MAX! My children do not sing in public." His voice was firm and there was no question the discussion was now over.
"You can't blame me for trying," the impresario muttered, as he moved to comfort a clearly disappointed Liesl.
The momentary discomfort after a true battle had been avoided was thankfully interrupted by Fraulein Maria. "Children, who shall we hear from next?" Georg's brood swarmed her like chicks to a mother hen, all murmuring something Elsa couldn't quite make out.
The entire group then walked to the children's father, as their caregiver spoke. "The vote is unanimous. You, captain," Maria said, holding the guitar out for him to take. Everyone, including Max and Elsa, turned their eyes toward him.
Georg appeared momentarily off-guard. "Me? I don't understand."
"Please," she added. The children looked at him expectantly. Elsa watched as Georg realized where the idea had come from. He pointed his finger amongst the children, verbalizing his own "ah-ha" moment.
"No, no, no, no," he declared, shooting down the children's-and Elsa's-hopes of hearing him sing.
"I'm told that a long time ago you were quite good." Points to that girl for tenacity, if nothing else. Though if she were to be honest, Elsa was equally curious to hear Georg sing again.
"That was a very, very, very long time ago," he demurred, walking through and past his family.
A variety of children's voices clamored for him to relent: "I remember, Father," "Play us something we know," "Oh, please, Father".
Elsa could see the wheels turning in Georg's head, his iron will weakening at his children's pleas. But he didn't give in until the pretty, young governess stood alone before him, her face soft and imploring. His expression softened, his eyes gentle, his smile genuine.
"Well. . . . all right," he whispered, taking the guitar from her hands.
The children sat on the floor in front of their father, as Elsa and Max settled into chairs behind them. Elsa quipped to Max, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"What?"
"To bring along my harmonica." If evenings were to turn into a family music hour, well, Elsa might just . . .Georg began playing, and Elsa's thought was interrupted.
The room was silent except for the guitar and Georg's voice. Elsa found it mesmerizing, his smooth baritone voice wrapping the room with its velvet tone. She lost herself for moment, enjoying the music, until she noticed Georg's gaze fixed toward. . . Maria. Admittedly, the girl looked lovely this evening, in a pale blue chiffon dress that was perfect for her figure. As Maria met his gaze with a shy smile, Elsa looked back and forth between the two, again wondering as to how appropriate their interactions were recently. They seemed, well, quite a bit cozier than an employer and a governess should, but. . . Elsa realized Georg had turned his attentions to her, and she smiled at him, content once again.
Georg's daughter joined him for a verse, then dropped out and Georg finished alone, again his gaze drifting to the lovely young woman leaning against the wall. She watched as he smiled and shrugged, clearly looking for - what? approval, perhaps? from the Fraulein. Now Elsa did not just see but felt a connection, a deep connection, between the two. The room was charged, and Elsa was immensely relieved when Max broke the tension.
"Anytime you say the word, Georg, you can be part of my new act: The von Trapp Family Singers." The room filled with giggles from the children.
Just then Elsa had a brainstorm. "I have a wonderful idea, Georg. Let's really fill this house with music. You must give a grand and glorious party while I'm here." She crossed the room to stand behind him, and she could see the children's faces light up with anticipation as they began to chatter: "A party?" "Yes, Father, please!"
"It's high time I met all your friends, and they met me. Don't you agree?" Elsa wagered he wouldn't say no to that line of reasoning.
Georg smiled, and seemed to acquiesce. "I see what you mean." The children took that as a "yes", and again expressed their excitement until the governess interrupted, telling them it was time to say goodnight.
XxXxXx
Over the course of the next several days, Elsa was consumed with planning the 'grand and glorious party'. Georg had given her free reign once they'd agreed upon a date two weeks hence; she could do as she pleased regarding the guest list, food, wines, decor, orchestra. It was a bit more time consuming in Salzburg than at home in Vienna, where she would simply use the same vendors each time she entertained.
Now that her own time was occupied with that, she found herself less worried about what Georg was doing with the children. While he stayed behind at the villa each afternoon eager to spend time with them, she was taking Max into town with her, sending invitation, trying sample menus from various caterers, finding musicians. She and Max would lunch and shop and gossip the afternoons away, returning to the villa in time for cocktails before dinner. It was all great fun, and things seemed back on track.
Until the evening, only a few days before the party, when Georg asked how many guests they'd be entertaining. Elsa presented him with the list of the invitations that had gone out, along with the tally of those accepting. She made herself comfortable on the brown leather settee in his study with a glass of cognac, as he read over the names. She watched as he grew increasingly agitated, until he finally looked up at her.
"You've invited Nazis to my home?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Not Nazis, darling, just friends of yours or mine that are trying not to burn bridges," she replied.
"Nazi sympathizers, then," he countered.
"Well, no. Not necessarily, just people like me, or Max, that don't wish to be involved in the politics of it all," Elsa explained.
"And what of Zeller? He's on this list! Elsa, he wears a uniform. He's a Nazi officer!" This time Georg's voice was a snarl, he threw the list on the table in front of Elsa and stalked toward the window. He looked out into the darkness.
Elsa tried to calm him. "His wife Hanne is one of my good friends. I can't exactly plan a party and exclude her, what would people think?"
Georg sighed, not moving. "I guess that's the difference between us, Elsa. I don't care what people think. I care about what's right."
Elsa walked over to him. "What would you like me to do? It is too late to cancel everything; and besides, that would be worse. You don't want people speculating about the reasons, and your children are so excited. . . "
He interrupted her. "No, no, let it go on. The money's been spent. Might as well allow Max to enjoy himself." Finally Georg looked at her, a bit sadly, she noticed.
Then she knew. She missed Vienna, the parties and the nightlife. He enjoyed riding horseback in the early morning hours around his estate. She'd never wanted a family, he had a ready-made one. Most importantly, he'd never looked at her the way he'd looked at Maria the night she convinced him to sing.
"This isn't. . .working out, is it?" She asked tentatively.
"I don't suppose it is. You haven't seemed comfortable out here in Aigen, you know."
"It is lovely to visit. But I don't think I could be happy living here," she admitted. "And, I'm just. . . I can't be what you need. I can't be a mother for your children. They are lovely, I simply don't have it in me. It isn't anything I ever wanted, and they deserve better than someone their father marries for convenience and companionship." She reached out and took his arm, he covered her hand with his. "You deserve more than that as well, and I know that you will find it. I do hope we can remain friends, Georg."
"Of course. I'm sorry, Elsa." He looked thoughtfully at her. "May I assume you'll be continuing your visit, at least until after this party you talked me into?" He smiled, this time with more warmth and kindness.
"I'd enjoy that. But now I think I'll retire upstairs, if you'll excuse me?"
He leaned and kissed her cheek. "Yes, of course. I think I'll go for a walk first, to clear my head." They left the study together, Elsa heading for the grand staircase, Georg for the terrace doors.
XxXxXx
After getting herself ready for bed, Elsa went to the window in the guest room that overlooked the lake. The room was a bit stuffy, and there was always a lovely breeze coming in off the water. She parted the curtains and opened the sash; along with the breeze and the scent of pine came the faint sound of voices. She looked out into the night; along the terrace and the steps to the boat landing there were lights scattered that threw an ethereal glow along the path.
Down at the iron gate that closed off the boat landing from the property, Elsa could see two figures standing, quite closely. Even without seeing their faces she knew that it was Georg and the governess. She watched, oddly drawn to see what would play out between the two. There had been little or nothing outwardly inappropriate in their interactions - except for that one time at the puppet store. No, it was more the feeling that she was intruding on an exceedingly private, intimate moment each time she caught them alone together, or when they thought no one could see. A look, the brush of a hand, finishing the other's sentences when they were addressing the children. It seemed as if the two belonged together. Elsa wondered if either of them had any idea what was happening between them, and if she could perhaps help them along.
Though it felt very wrong, she continued to watch as Maria hugged herself, rubbing her arms as if she'd gotten a chill. Ever the gentleman, Georg removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. It wasn't until they began walking toward the house that Elsa closed the curtain, and started planning. Her first step would be to find out if Maria was truly intending on returning to the abbey.