Maria followed Max to the drawing room in panicked silence, wringing her hands in front of her as the Captain's words rattled around in her head like loose stones.
No fairytales.
What on earth had she been thinking, raking her hands through his chest hair like a common harlot. No wonder he had responded the way he did - at the time she'd been fixated on checking for further injury but in retrospect she realised it was no better than a sordid seduction on her part. When she'd finally looked at his face, the look in his eyes had stolen the air from her lungs and she'd been so wrapped up in the thudding of his heartbeat against her hand, that she'd almost forgotten it was not her Georg she was caressing, but Captain von Trapp - her dark and distant employer. What on earth must he think of the wanton governess who took such inappropriate liberties?
What must God think? The question filled her with unrelenting dread and made her blood run cold. Was she purposefully trying to defy Him? His punishment was one of the utmost anguish - He was putting her heart in the firing line of the Captain's indifference, his contempt, and it hurt every single time - being treated with such derision, having to watch helplessly from afar as the deep and complicated man struggled alone with his demons because any efforts to comfort him would be met only with disdain. And yet she actively continued to go back for more, walking willingly into the fire that God lay in her path time and time again, revelling in the bittersweet pain of her isolation. She was a fool, a sinner, the worst excuse for a follower of the Lord.
"Take a seat Fraulein," Max gestured towards the nearby sofa and took up residence next to the fireplace, leaning against the mantel with a hand on his hip.
She complied and fixed her gaze to the floor, her heart in her mouth as she prayed that the topic of this discussion would merely be the children, who Max had been watching during her shifts with the Captain.
"I hope you don't think me too forward Fraulein but I'm a man who rather likes to get to the point," Max began, tugging at his moustache thoughtfully and fixing her with a pointed look. She said nothing, staring at the fidgeting hands in her lap. She looked positively terrified.
"Fraulein, please don't be alarmed, I merely want to make sure you're okay," he reassured her, "ever since the night of the party you.. Well you haven't seemed yourself."
The girl nodded defeatedly, looking as though she was attempting to hold back tears, but still she said nothing.
"Did the attack rattle you? I understand it must've been truly awful to watch..."
You have no idea, Maria thought.
Still she said nothing and Max wondered whether confronting her had been such a good idea after all. He was getting nowhere and it was getting increasingly more awkward.
"It's just... You sang so beautifully the night of the puppet show and the children were absolutely enchanting the night of the party," he pressed, "I haven't heard any of you sing since the attack. What's wrong with all you gloomy pusses?"
He had attempted to lighten the mood but at his words the Fraulein let out an anguished sound filled with sadness and flung herself from the sofa, pacing the room in an attempt to rid herself of her agitation.
"He doesn't like us to sing anymore," her voice shook as she became flustered, "it's not the same.. he isn't the same..."
Bingo, Max thought. Just as he'd suspected. "He?" the impresario pressed, "Georg?"
"Except he isn't Georg..not anymore!" She cried, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked Max in the face for the first time during their confrontation, "it's all such a mess!"
It hadn't taken much for the Fraulein to succumb to his line of questioning and Max realised with a tinge of unexpected guilt that the poor girl had been struggling with her anguish and confusion entirely in isolation. She'd had no one to confide in, no one to talk to - and nobody had had the compassion to ask.
His suspicions had clearly been correct - his friend and the governess were in love. Or at least they had been before Georg had lost his memory. And now the poor young woman was struggling silently through an unrequited affection for a man she wasn't sure even existed anymore. Max had seen many different sides to his oldest friend over the years and the bitter, twisted man who currently sat upstairs behind his aristocratic mask was by far the hardest to come to terms with. It was a side of him that had turned many better men than Max Detweiler to stone. His heart went out to the Fraulein. He too understood what it was like to know the real Georg only to watch helplessly as the defensive walls slowly came up, blocking the rest of the world out.
Stilling the Fraulein's frantic pacing he willed her to take a seat again. As he looked upon her defeated face, her shoulders drooped in sadness like a vulnerable child, he wanted nothing more than to respond to her woes in classic Max Detweiler fashion and give a dismissive wave of his hand, telling her to cheer up, sing and few songs and everything would be fine.
It would certainly be the easier thing to say and would also do him no harm with regards to his plans for pulling her out of her depression and securing her very profitable future stardom.
But for once in his life, compassion seemed to surpass the allure of monetary gain.
"Fraulein, I can't deny that it is indeed a mess, and I will not pretend I've ever been a man of wise words," she cracked a watery smile at his observation, "there may be nothing left that we can do for Georg," he continued sadly, "but there's so much we can still do, that you can still do, for those seven little souls that worship the very ground you walk on."
It was sad but true, Max thought, hoping that the Fraulein would understand. There was no more intervention to be done with Georg - he was a stubborn man and it seemed he didn't want to try and remember. Things would have to take their natural course now, whatever that course turned out to be. The girl would be better off putting a man with so much emotional baggage behind her.
She nodded her understanding and he noticed a flicker of light in her eyes that he hadn't seen in weeks.
"If you can do nothing else, then just be their guide Fraulein.. God only knows they need one now more than ever."
He smiled and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, inwardly cursing his newfound and costly empathy. Still, if it was indeed a twinkle he'd seen returning to her eye, he might still make a legendary performer of her yet!
Three days had simply flown by since Georg's bizarre encounter with the governess and he was relieved to finally be up and about, no longer confined to the cocoon of his bedroom and the prison of his thoughts. While his face was still various tinges of purple and green in places, his injuries were fading and he was able to enjoy the sunshine and the company of his guests.
Sitting on the veranda and enjoying a cigar with Max, he watched satisfactorily as his children marched about the grounds in the sunshine, as instructed. When cooped up in his room he hadn't been able to determine whether the governess had been adhering to his rules for the children, but now that he was back on his feet he took great satisfaction in the knowledge that he could keep a beady eye on all eight of them.
He took a deep, peaceful breath, "listen to that Max," he said on his relaxed exhalation.
"I don't hear anything.." His friend replied, baffled.
"Exactly," Georg smirked, taking another long drag of his cigar, "just peace and quiet."
Elsa was in town with friends, the staff were all exactly where they should be, and for once everything was in perfect order, "And all it takes is a little discipline."
Max followed his friends eyes and realised he was referring to the children who were all staring forlornly at the floor as they marched, silent as mice and headed up by their Fraulein who was doing her best to make the tedious task a cheerful one.
A long, charged silence passed between the two gentlemen before Max finally asked, "Georg... Don't you remember anything at all from before the party?"
"For goodness sake Max, not this again," Georg rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "I told you I remember nothing and I'm sick to death of trying! What good is it remember the past anyway?"
If only you knew, Max thought. But instead of upsetting his friend further he merely replied with a nod of his head.
Georg settled back into his chair, satisfied that the unwelcome topic of conversation had been put to rest. Until -
"Georg..."
"Christ Max, what now?"
"It's just.. " the impresario looked as though he were trying to choose his words carefully and Georg felt his patience begin to wane, "I don't suppose you remember any.. Puppets..do you? Singing perhaps?"
Georg fixed his friend with a look of utter perplexity, his eyebrows raised in bewilderment, "a word of advice Max, maybe lay off the whiskey...What on earth are you up to now, puppets?"
"Nothing.. It's nothing."
Why was everyone acting so peculiarly.. Georg thought.
"The only singing I remember," he sneered, "was when I found that ridiculous Fraulein prancing around her bedroom singing about kittens and fairies or some such nonsense the night before I left for Vienna. And I soon put a stop to that."
Max held his hands up in surrender and Georg turned to watch his children again, glad to have put an end to his friend's bizarre line of questioning.
His eyes drifted to the head of the marching line, taking in the Fraulein's lithe frame in the sunlight. She really was a riddle - one he found himself compelled to crack. He had begun feeling some very bizarre things in her company. He was sexually attracted to her, that much was clear, but it wasn't the heated lust that bothered him - he'd lusted after women before and it had been of little consequence. Rather, it was the perplexing sense of deja vu that she evoked within him that left him rattled.
He felt almost as though he'd known her in a previous life and yet he couldn't possibly know her at all. They were no more than strangers and yet there were times when their eyes would meet across a room or they'd touch accidentally and the wind would be entirely knocked out of him.
He knew nothing of the real Maria, but he couldn't shake the disturbing feeling that somehow a cloistered life was the wrong path for this curious woman. And despite knowing hardly anything about her character, he had an unsettling suspicion that she just wasn't herself. There were walls she'd put up, a mask she'd adopted - and much to his irritation, it left him feeling a very strange mixture of sadness and curiosity.
What was she hiding from, what was she so afraid of? He had a peculiar feeling that he ought to know the answer to his own question but then again, why would he know anything about her? She was a complete mystery.
Pulling himself together, he sat up straighter in his chair and shook thoughts of his governess from his mind. Trying to determine why he felt so oddly towards the Fraulein had been entirely distracting him from the path he'd planned for his future. He was a meticulous planner, another asset he prided himself on, and it annoyed him that he'd allowed the governess to get in the way of his normally foolproof strategising. He needed to put a stop to this ludicrous curiosity and get his life in order.
He had brought Elsa back to his home with one objective in mind and that had been to introduce her to his children so that he could eventually make an offer of marriage. Zeller's attack had thrown his ship off course slightly but now that he was back on his feet he saw no reason to delay the inevitable. He couldn't recall why he hadn't proposed prior to the party in the first place - after all, hadn't Elsa been at his home for a sufficient amount of time by then? Either way, it hardly mattered. He'd been courting her for the better part of a year and he'd put it off long enough. The two of them had a mutual affection for one another but more importantly for Georg there was a mutual understanding that love simply didn't come into their arrangement. It was a fine, high society match, they were close friends, and they were attracted to one another. It simply made sense.
So what was it that had been stopping him before?
Two days later and the monotony of the daily marching was becoming too much for Maria. Now that the Captain had been up and about for the best part of a week, she was forced to bend for his ridiculous rules, constantly under his scrutinising watch, and it made it all the more difficult to cheer the children up.
While he'd been bedridden, Maria had felt too troubled to truly sing or play or dance with the children like she used to and in retrospect she chastised herself for not taking greater advantage of the Captain's absence. Since her talk with Her Detweiler she'd become determined to treat the children with every bit of vigour and enthusiasm as she had done prior to the attack. But ironically, now that their father was present more often than not, it had become a complete impossibility. Instead, a gloomy essence shrouded the children's little forms as they were forced to march in perfect sync in their horrible uniforms and it broke Maria's heart.
Despite his relentless insistence on their continuous exercise and his ridiculous array of various regulations, Maria had begun to notice subtle changes in the Captain that filled her with a hope she hardly dared to acknowledge. He was still every bit as reserved, every bit as haughty, every bit as impatient and stubborn. But there were moments when she would catch him looking at her in the most peculiar way and instead of averting his eyes he would hold her gaze with such a heated intensity that she could've sworn she was looking at Georg. Her Georg. And her knees would almost buckle beneath her, only to watch him retreat again suddenly, as though he'd barely even seen her. Guilt and shame would mingle with the newfound hope then - a constant reminder that God was always watching.
"Fraulein Maria, do you mind if we stop now? We're tired," Kurt murmured sadly, met with nods of agreement from his siblings.
Maria glanced apprehensively up at the villa but, seeing no sign of her employer, she willingly allowed her charges a much needed break.
"Of course children," she sighed, "what would you like to do instead?"
"Can we play Blind Man's Bluff Fraulein?" Gretl tugged at Maria's skirt adorably, "it's my favourite."
"Silly, we're not allowed to play now that father is well again," Friedrich retorted dismissively.
"We're not allowed to do anything now that father's well again," Brigitta muttered, staring at the ground.
Louisa nodded in agreement, a scowl not dissimilar to her father's deepening her features, "I almost wish he was still confined to that bed..."
"Louisa!" Maria chastised, evoking a look of guilt from the girl, "you know your father went through a terrible ordeal and he is still very much recovering.. You shouldn't say such things."
"It's okay Fraulein," Leisl interjected solemnly, "We all knew it was too good to be true anyway."
Recognising the solemn acceptance in the girls face, Maria realised that Leisl had become a young woman in a matter of days. No longer blinded by childhood naivety, she knew full well that her father may never return to them and as a result she had adopted the role of surrogate mother to her siblings for a second time - without complaint and without reluctance. Maria's heart swelled with pride for the eldest von Trapp child. She'd had her childhood taken from her and yet she willingly sacrificed the rest of her adolescence for the sake of her siblings.
"Right," Maria clapped her hands together in determination, attempting to startle them out of their depressing reverie, "enough of this moping around, who's going to be the Blind Man?"
Laughing so hard she thought she might break a rib, Maria watched as a blindfolded Freidrich lunged towards a nimble Brigitta only to grab thin air as the girl dodged his advance with effortless ease. They'd been playing uninterrupted for an hour and if it hadn't been for the children's sailor suits, Maria could've convinced herself it was just like old times. With the cloudless skies above them and the squealing laughter of the children echoing through the trees, Maria felt for the first time in a while that everything was right with the world. Their joyous innocence anchored her, reminded her of her purpose and she took great comfort in knowing that she was finally doing God's will. It was almost enough to make her forget the sinful allure of those piercing blue eyes and the desperate longing she so adamantly tried to conceal..
Finally Friedrich managed to grab an unsuspecting Kurt around the middle, pulling him to ground in victory and before she knew it Maria was lying on the ground in a heap with all seven of her charges, laughing and chattering away as though they hadn't a care in the world. In those precious moments it suddenly dawned on her that, for the first time in her life, she felt as though she had discovered where she truly belonged.
Their laughter was immediately halted dead by the shrill shriek of a high-pitched whistle and Maria's head jerked up from her position on the ground to see a seething Captain standing on the veranda - tall and menacing with his brow contorted in silent rage and clutching that damned boatswain whistle she'd hoped never to see again. Before she knew what was happening, the had children scrambled to their feet in alarm and taken off towards the veranda like loyal dogs, traitorously leaving their governess sprawled on the ground as she caught her breath.
Hurriedly getting to her feet, she joined them on the veranda, her eyes darting suspiciously from the apprehensive Her Detweiler sat on the Captain's left, to the amused Baroness Shraeder on his right, silently begging for one of them to calm the raging beast. No such luck.
"I thought I'd made it perfectly clear Fraulein that while you may have gotten away with such insolence while I was indisposed, now that I'm very much well again I will not tolerate such ludicrous and uncouth behaviour!"
When she did nothing but nod in response, he took a steadying breath and rolled his eyes in frustration, turning his attention to the children. He had far more urgent matters to attend to.
"Now, children," he barked, pacing slowly in front of their line up like a lion eyeing its prey, "I have some important news I think you all ought to hear and I believe it will make us all very happy."
Maria's heart began to pound wildly in her chest as she witnessed the scene unfolding before her very eyes, as if in slow motion. The world seemed to fade around her and the Captain's voice was drowned out by the sickening pounding in her ears as her insides knotted with unbearable torment. She watched in silent horror as the captain approached the baroness and placed his hands affectionately on her shoulders. She watched in cold dread as a self-satisfied smile crept across the elegant woman's freshly powdered face. She watched in utter dismay as Her Detweiler guiltily avoided her anguished gaze. And she watched in utter hopelessness as God delivered his final blow.
"We talked about it last night, it's all settled," the Captain gripped the Baroness's hand, "You're going to have a new mother."
A/N: It seems poor Maria can't catch a break! Ive taken her through some rough chapters! This chapter was mostly a filler so I apologise if it rattled on a bit but it's necessary to the story and sets up the next chapter nicely, which I promise will be juicy! Please do review and I'll update very soon.
