Breathe, keep breathing
Don't lose your nerve
Breathe, keep breathing
I can't do this alone

Sing, us a song
A song to keep us warm
There's such a chill, such a chill…

"Exit Music (For A Film)" Radiohead, "OK Computer" (1997)

"Elsa, please let me finish," Georg reached out and took hold of her hand. He went to run his thumb across her knuckles, but his thumb quickly ran into one of her cluster rings. Pulling him up. Looking down at her hand, he wondered why this was the first time he realised they were in the way. Had there really been so little affection between the two of them?

"I have something important to say, and I need you to listen," Georg told her firmly, as he tried to focus his attention.

"I'm sorry, Georg, darling," Elsa smiled knowingly at him. "I won't interrupt. I promise."

"As I was saying, both you and Max saved me from myself some time ago," he began again. "You know, for that, I will always be grateful. One day, I'd hoped I could show you my gratitude. When we met, I was completely broken. You helped ease so much of my pain." He paused.

Elsa smiled and squeezed his hand. Oh, her friends had been right! The girl had just been a silly distraction. She'd been worrying for no reason after all. Holding her breath, she waited for Georg to continue.

"God knows, Elsa, I had hoped that one day my heart could belong to you…" Georg dropped his gaze and took her other hand in his.

"Georg, what are you saying?" Elsa's heart leapt. After a summer where he'd been distracted by that nun, it seemed he'd finally come to his senses.

"I'm sorry, Elsa, I've come to realise over the past weeks that my heart belongs elsewhere," he looked up at her, the guilt was overwhelming, especially as he saw the sadness flash across her eyes momentarily, before being replaced by her usual, unreadable facade.

"Oh, Georg, I knew that I would always have to share you with Agathe," Elsa laughed nervously. Surely, that's what he meant. Surely, he wasn't talking about that damn governess. It wasn't possible.

"I need to be honest with you," Georg said quietly. "I hoped that we could have a long, happy future together. I wanted to fall in love with you, Elsa. But I'm sorry…"

"It's that girl, isn't it?" Elsa whispered, barely able to ask the question out loud.

"Elsa, I'm sorry. I wish things were different," Georg let go of one of her hands, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand affectionately. "You deserve so much more than I can offer."

Pulling away from him, Elsa turned away. She stared at one of the windows as if she was watching something outside in the distance, even though the drapes were drawn against the darkness outside. She knew there'd been something going on between Georg and the girl. She'd convinced herself it was just a passing infatuation. Once the summer was over and she was back at the Abbey, he'd get her out of his system. Whatever had happened between them he couldn't seriously believe that his future lay with a girl who wanted to become a nun. How dare he let her go over some little summer crush.

"How long, Georg?" Elsa demanded as she turned back on him. "How long has this thing been going on?"

"How long? I don't understand," he asked, confused. "Elsa, nothing has happened between…" he began to explain.

"Georg, don't take me for a fool!" she spat at him, before remembering herself. "I saw you dancing with her last night. You were practically seducing the girl in front of everyone. In front of your children. In front of me…" she choked out. Pulling herself tight, she continued, "There was a familiarity, an intimacy, between you. And don't tell me nothing has happened! I'm not a fool, for God's sake!"

"I've always been honest with you, Elsa. Please, believe me, nothing has happened," Georg begged her to believe him.

"So, this morning on the terrace, when I interrupted the two of you, that was nothing?" she demanded.

"Elsa, what are you talking about?" Georg was confused. It had been such a long day. So much had happened. He had no idea what she meant.

"Georg, I'm not blind!" Elsa hurled at him. "It was all very romantic when I came across the two of you on the terrace earlier today." She couldn't believe that Georg was entirely clueless about what she'd seen. "She had a handful of flowers, you were on your knees. You had your hand on her!"

"Elsa, let me explain…" Georg began. He hated seeing the hurt in Elsa's eyes. As much as she tried, she couldn't hide it. He hated being the reason for it. "Fraulein Maria was given the flowers by the children. Just before you joined us, she went to stand up and almost fainted. I was making sure she was alright. Believe me, Elsa. Nothing has happened behind your back. You should know I'm not that kind of man."

"Surely, this is just a passing thing. Don't be a fool and throw everything away. Not over this silly girl," Elsa pleaded desperately. "It's just a crush, you'll get over it soon enough. That's exactly what I told her, but I'm…"

"What?!" Georg cut her off. What in God's name had Elsa told Maria?

Elsa closed her eyes, realising she'd said too much. She hadn't meant to tell Georg that she'd spoken to the girl last night during the party. She hadn't wanted him to know that she'd tried to scare her off. Especially not now that things had spiralled out of control.

"When did you speak to Fraulein Maria?" Georg demanded.

Elsa took a deep breath and patted her hair. "Oh, Georg, I went to help her find something suitable to wear to dinner last night," she replied sweetly, hoping he would think that there hadn't been anything sinister behind it. "I'm really not sure what Max was thinking inviting her in the first place, I mean after all…"

"Elsa! That's not important. What the hell did you tell her?" Georg cut her off.

"Georg, please, I just pointed out the obvious…" she let out a nervous laugh, trying to ignore Georg's cold stare.

"And what was the obvious, Elsa?" he asked sarcastically.

"Really, is this necessary, Georg?" Elsa knew he would be angry when he learned the truth about last night.

"Humour me, please…" he needed to know what the women had spoken about. He needed to know why Elsa looked so uncomfortable. What was she so reluctant to tell him?

"If you must know, Georg, I told her how obvious her feelings for you had been," Elsa decided she had no choice but to tell him. She knew Georg wouldn't let her go without a full explanation. "Don't give me that look. The girl was so transparent."

"What did she say?" he asked her calmly.

"She denied it of course," Elsa continued. "I told her that what made it so nice was that you thought that you were in love with her."

"You said what?!" Georg demanded.

"Come on, Georg, don't deny it!" Elsa shot back at him. "A young virginal girl. She's a pretty thing, perhaps a little plain. The temptation is almost irresistible. Don't deny you didn't enjoy her attention! Max was no different! I mean, why on earth did he invite her to dinner last night? It was entirely inappropriate!"

Georg shook his head, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Go on…"

"Well, Georg, she seemed a little worried. But I told her not to be concerned, you'd get over it soon enough," Elsa told him.

"What?!" Georg hissed. Remembering himself, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Then what happened?"

"She told me she was going to leave, and she asked…" Elsa continued.

"You knew?! Oh my God, Elsa!" Georg couldn't hide his shock. "You knew that she left in the middle of the night? Why didn't you stop her?"

"Georg, honestly, I had no idea she was going to take off in the middle of the night," Elsa went on. "She made me promise not to say a word. What was I to do?"

"But, when she didn't make it to dinner, didn't you stop to think?" Georg asked.

"Georg, I was too busy hosting a party to think too much about that silly girl," Elsa replied.

Turning away, Georg cringed at Elsa's words. He flexed his fingers as he tried to calm himself. Elsa knew that Maria had fled the villa. She'd known all along. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't look at Elsa right at that moment. Breathing slowly, he tried to rein in his anger.

After a few minutes of strained silence, but with his back still turned, Georg found his voice. "Elsa, I've heard enough," his voice was low, his anger barely controlled.

"What do you mean, Georg?" Elsa walked beside him and placed her hand on his arm.

"Elsa, this is all my fault," he turned to face her. "I should have been honest weeks ago. I apologise. I thank you for all you've done for me."

"Oh, Georg, is this really necessary?" Elsa asked. "This doesn't have to change anything."

"Elsa, this is for the best," Georg said. "I'll arrange for Max to accompany you back to Vienna tomorrow."

"Oh…"

"I'm sorry, Elsa, I shouldn't have let things…" Georg began.

"No, Georg!" Elsa stopped him. "I don't think I can bear to hear you apologise for the past two years." That would be far too humiliating. It was already bad enough. "I'll pack my bags and be ready to leave in the morning." Squeezing his arm, she kissed his cheek. "Auf wiedersehen, Georg." And with that she made her way out of the study, closing the door behind her.

As soon as it was closed behind her, Elsa leaned against the cool, hard wood of the study door trying to compose herself. Georg's words had been sobering after her afternoon and evening of fine food and champagne. How could she have misread everything so badly? She'd been convinced that Georg's attraction to the girl would only ever be that. An attraction from a distance. She could have overlooked that. After all, she'd grown used to sharing him with the memory of Agathe. But never had she imagined that Georg might act on this thing. Did he honestly think he had a future with the girl?

No that had been incomprehensible. She hadn't even thought it a possibility. Had he even stopped to think of the scandal? Of his reputation? Of her humiliation?

Taking a deep breath, Elsa squared her shoulders. She patted her hair as she moved away from the study and made her way towards the stairs…

Georg walked around to his desk and slumped into the high backed leather chair. Letting out a sigh, he ran an unsteady hand through his hair. He felt a wave of relief wash over him. God, he was free! Only now could he admit how suffocating it had been. He'd felt burdened pretending he was someone he wasn't. But that was nothing compared to the burden of trying to force himself to feel something he didn't.

Not wanting to waste any time, he knew he couldn't stop to think about Elsa's words with Maria. It was hardly important now. He just wanted to be at Maria's side. But first, he needed to make some final arrangements for Elsa's return to Vienna.

Opening the top drawer of the desk he took out two sheets of stationery embossed with his personal monogram. Picking up the fountain pen from the writing set on the desk, he wrote a note to Franz, asking the butler to arrange for a car to take both of his guests back to Vienna. Folding the note, he took an envelope out of the drawer and placed the note in it before sealing it and turning it over to write the butler's name on the front.

In the note that he was going to leave under Max's bedroom door, he explained that he needed his friend to accompany Elsa back to Vienna. That she would be returning permanently.

Standing, he turned off the lamp on his desk and made his way out of the study, stopping to lock the door behind him. He made a detour to the kitchen, leaving the note for Franz on the side table. He then made his way up the stairs, turning to the guest wing. He stopped outside Max's room and slid the envelope under the door.

As he made his way along the upper landing towards Maria's room, Georg could feel his heart racing, his breathing becoming a little shallow. He knew part of it was the fear of being faced with images that had haunted him for the past four years. Images of the woman he loved completely helpless. Utterly vulnerable. And him totally powerless to help. He wasn't certain how he was going to react when confronted with seeing Maria so ill.

But his fear was mixed with the heady excitement of knowing that he was free. Free to gaze upon Maria without having to remind himself that he shouldn't. Free to be with her, without reminding himself that he needed to avoid her. Free to finally touch her. Feeling his fingers burning at the thought, he flexed them to remind himself that he needed to stay calm.

Finding himself outside Maria's bedroom door, he stopped and knocked gently. He heard Frau Schmidt calling out to enter. Taking a deep, calming breath, he opened the door and let himself in. Closing the door behind him, he turned slowly towards Maria's bed, taking in a sharp breath. He'd told himself he was going to be strong. He'd braced himself. But he still wasn't prepared. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, she lay back, propped up on pillows. Her face flushed, a slight sheen of perspiration on her brow, evidence that the fever was still with her.

"How is she, Frau Schmidt," Georg quietly asked the housekeeper. He took a few steps into the room and reached out to hold onto the cast iron frame at the foot of the bed. He needed something to steady him. To ground him.

"There's been no real change, Captain, which we should be grateful for," Frau Schmidt turned to him and smiled wearily. "The fever hasn't broken yet. Occasionally, the poor girl will suffer a terrible chill, but then the fever returns."

"Frau Schmidt, you look exhausted," Georg couldn't hide his concern for the woman who'd been such an important part of the household for years. He owed her so much. Especially these past four years. "Please go and get yourself some rest," he demanded gently. "I'll sit with Fraulein Maria tonight."

"Are you sure, Captain?" Frau Schmidt questioned. "I can stay. You don't need to put yourself out."

"I'm certain," he nodded at her. "You can't watch over Fraulein Maria all day and night. You need to get some sleep. Please, I don't want you becoming ill as well. I'll call you the minute I need you."

"Thank you," she smiled as she rose from the chair beside the bed and moved towards the door.

"Frau Schmidt?" Georg stopped her just as she was about to open the door and let herself out of Maria's bedroom.

"Yes, Captain?" she turned back.

"Baroness Schraeder will be returning to Vienna tomorrow morning with Herr Detwieler," Georg told her.

"For how long, Captain," Frau Schmidt asked. Over the weeks, she hadn't warmed to the Baroness who was always reminding her of her place as the housekeeper. It had never been like that with the Captain or his wife.

"She won't be returning," Georg stated flatly.

"I understand," she replied. "Call me if you need anything. Good night, Captain," nodding, she turned and let herself out, closing the door softly behind her.

Watching the door close behind Frau Schmidt, Georg turned back towards Maria. He couldn't move. Standing at the end of the bed, he clung to the cast iron frame holding his breath. If he didn't know any better, if he hadn't heard the doctor's words, he could easily imagine that she was just sleeping.

Finally finding the strength to move, Georg forced himself from the end of the bed along the edge towards the head of the bed. Unable to take his eyes off her, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and threw it over the back of the chair beside the bed. Taking off his cufflinks, one at a time, he placed them in the pocket of his trousers. Rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt, he still couldn't take his eyes off Maria. Finally, he loosened his tie and threw it on top of his jacket. Still not breaking his gaze, he undid the top buttons of his shirt.

Now that he was free of Elsa, now that he could tell Maria exactly how he'd been feeling all these weeks, he couldn't. And it was all his fault. The irony wasn't lost on him. It may have been Elsa's words that sent Maria fleeing into the night, but he was responsible. It was because of him that Elsa had followed Maria to her room last night.

Reaching across to the bedside table, he lifted the wash cloth from the bowl of water beside the lamp. He squeezed the water from the cloth, the sound of the water falling into the bowl below the only sound other than Maria's laboured breathing and the blood pounding in his ears.

He gently wiped Maria's forehead with the damp cloth. She mumbled a few, incoherent words. He thought he may have heard her call his name. Did he hear her call him Captain? Perhaps he was just being hopeful. How could she know he was here with her?

"Ssshh…" he whispered, trying to calm her. Trying to settle her. "Maria, it's me, the Captain. I'm here now…"

After gently wiping her face with the cooling cloth, Georg tenderly brushed her fringe from her forehead. Her hair had been damp with perspiration. His efforts to cool her with the cloth had made her hair cling together in little clumps. He was surprised how hot she felt under his much cooler hand.

In the warm light thrown across the room by the lamp, he could almost imagine that nothing was wrong. Lying back against the pillows, with her lips slightly parted, her eyelashes resting on her cheeks, she looked so peaceful. So serene. So beautiful.

It was only her heavy, laboured breathing that betrayed how ill she was. He knew it was still possible that she may avoid pneumonia. But it didn't ease any of the fear and guilt he was carrying.

"Maria, I'm so sorry," he whispered as he cupped her flushed cheek. "I never meant for any of this to happen." He could feel his throat tightening, as the tears started to flood his eyes. Clenching his jaw against the emotions, he knew he had to stay strong.

Pulling the chair closer to the bed, he sat down on the edge of the seat. Maria had settled a little, but was still restless. The blankets were pulled up to her chest, both arms rested on top of the bed covers. Her nightgown covered her arms, the sleeves stopping just above her wrists. He smiled, despite everything. The last time he'd found himself in Maria's room was her first night at the villa. She'd been bounding around the room singing so loudly he could hear her above the thunderstorm all the way across the other side of the villa.

She'd been leading the children in a rebellion against his rules. It had started earlier in the day. When he'd introduced her to the children and she'd made no attempt to hide her contempt for his rules. She'd refused to use her whistle in the most seductive way. It had been unnerving. That's when he started to unravel. By that evening, she'd recruited all the children in her campaign against him and the minor insurrection was starting to look a lot like a mutiny.

Taking her hand and running his thumb across her knuckles, he felt his heart beat a little faster as his mind drifted back to the day he'd returned from Vienna. He'd been faced with a full blown revolution. Reaching across, he brushed a stray hair and tucked it behind her ear. God, where would he be without this incredible woman?

"Ssshhh..." he tried to calm her as she again stirred restlessly, mumbling something incoherent. Again, he thought he heard his name. Again, he was probably just being hopeful. Just wanting to hear his name on her lips. But he was being ridiculous. God, he didn't even know if she shared his feelings. She did run away after all. After Elsa had told Maria how he felt. He could hardly blame Elsa. This was all his own doing. He could feel his throat tightening again as he accepted that his actions had led to this.

She was still gripped by fever. So he knew he would have to wait before telling her of his feelings. She probably wasn't even aware that he was here with her.

So far, since he'd walked into Maria's room, he'd been able to shut out the images of Agathe. It was the only way he could find the strength to be here. To allow Frau Schmidt to get some much need rest. But as Maria was becoming more restless, his mind drifted to Agathe. When she was gripped by the fever, she would find peace and comfort when he sang to her.

"Ed-el-wiess," he began, his voice unsteady, barely more than a whisper, as he choked back the tears. "Ed-el-weiss," he forced himself to continue as a tear escaped and tracked its way down his cheek. He could feel Maria relax, even though he was only holding onto her hand. "Ev-ery morn-ing you greet…" He stopped. The tiniest ghost of a smile crossed Maria's lips. Forcing himself to continue, despite more tears following the path of the first, "Small…and white…" he choked out, barely able to breathe let alone sing.

"I'm so sorry, Maria," he rasped as he held her hand tightly in his, dropping his head onto their hands. "Please, Maria, we need you…I need you…" he whispered as he gave in to the emotions he'd been fighting since he read Maria's note last night in his study. Telling him that she was leaving. Telling him that she wanted to return to the Abbey.

"Please forgive me…"

In the semi-darkness, his sobs and pleas for forgiveness drowned out the sound of Maria's heavy breathing.

ooooXXXXoooo

Maria coughed, feeling her chest ache with every sudden movement. Her throat was dry and sore, and every part of her body felt heavy. Weighed down with a weariness like she'd never felt before.

Opening her eyes slowly, she looked at the familiar pattern on the ceiling as her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light. She realised that she was in her room at the villa. But what was wrong with her hand? Looking down, she suddenly caught her breath. It was the Captain!

She didn't expect to see him here in her room. Surely she was dreaming. She quickly looked away, expecting him to not be there when she looked down again. Where was Frau Schmidt? The last time she'd opened her eyes, she'd seen all the children standing around her bed, wide-eyed and ready to embark on their next adventure. Frau Schmidt had told her that she must have been dreaming. The children weren't there. She could have sworn they were. Relieved, she'd barely been able to lift her head, let alone think of getting out of bed and dressed to join the children.

Glancing down again, she gasped, seeing that the Captain was still there. He had hold of her hand in both of his. He was sitting on the edge of the chair with his head to the side resting on their hands. He seemed to be in a deep sleep. Had he been there long? He looked so peaceful. The usual worry and weariness had left him. A lock of hair, normally swept back and immaculately in place, had fallen over his forehead. She couldn't help thinking how young and dashing it made him look. Deciding that she must be dreaming, she reached across with her other hand and tentatively, gently, caught the stray lock and swept it back in place.

The Captain stirred for a moment, but then went back to his deep, regular breathing. Intrigued, she reached down and tenderly ran her hand through his hair again. If this was a dream, what harm could it do, she asked herself. After all, she'd dreamt this before. Many times more than she could admit to.

Feeling brave, Maria ran her fingers along his jawline, fascinated by the rough stubble under her fingers. Just as she was about to trace his lips with her finger, she was startled by the Captain suddenly sitting up and catching her hand in his.

"Maria," he whispered, as she let out a squeal and then descended into a fit of coughs.

Leaping to his feet, he helped her sit up straighter against the pillows, while she caught her breath in between coughs.

Once the coughing had subsided, he took the glass of water off the bedside table and held it to her lips as he placed a steadying arm around her shoulders. "Slowly…" he whispered as she started taking in large gulps.

"Is that better?" he asked tenderly taking the glass away as she pulled back.

"Thank you," she replied hoarsely, quickly moving her eyes away from his. "What…?" she started to ask, but drifted off as the effort to talk became too much.

"I'm giving Frau Schmidt a break," he said as he placed the near empty glass back on the table. "I hope you don't mind," he asked quietly as he turned back.

He could feel his heart leap as she shook her head and gave him a smile.

"Good," he smiled back, unable to hide his relief. "Now, let's get you settled again," he started lowering her to a more comfortable position against the pillows. Lifting her arms, he placed them under the covers and pulled the covers back up.

"Thank…" Maria tried to thank him, but her voice gave out before she could finish. "Thought I...dreaming..." she tried to explain.

"Ssshh, Fraulein, please there's no need to thank me." how could he accept her thanks when this was all his fault. God, how had he allowed things to get so out of hand? "Please try not to talk."

Clearing his throat, he noticed a book on the side table. "Do you mind if I read to you?" he asked picking it up.

Maria smiled and nodded "Please. I'd like that…" she whispered.

Turning the book over, Georg smiled to himself. "Ah-ha! Still being entertained by Miss Austen I see!" he teased as he saw the familiar edition of Pride and Prejudice. The children had insisted he purchase it for Maria while on an excursion to town some weeks ago. They'd found themselves in a bookshop and he'd quickly given in to the children begging him to buy Maria a book of her choosing. He could hardly resist. She'd argued that she could borrow books from the villa library. But the children wanted her to have one she could call her own. For the first time in hours, he felt his heart leap as Maria smiled back at him. Genuinely smiled. Her eyes lighting up at his teasing words.

"Close your eyes, Fraulein, and I'll continue on from where you left off," he ordered her gently, turning to the pages bookmarked by a piece of pressed edelweiss.

"Ah, I see we're up to the dance at Netherfield," Georg commented. Although, judging by the worn pages and knowing how quickly Maria devoured a book, he couldn't help feeling that this was probably the second or third time Maria had read the book.

Settling down in the chair beside the bed, and happy that Maria was as comfortable as could be, he started reading in his smooth baritone. He glanced up every so often to check that Maria was resting. It wasn't long before her head had rolled slightly to the side towards him. She was breathing more deeply, even though her breathing was still shallow and laboured.

Pausing, he retrieved the pressed edelweiss and placed it back in the book. Turning the book in his hand, he noticed a dog eared page towards the back. He smiled. Ah, he knew Maria was on her second reading of the book, at least! Opening up to the page, he started reading. It was the beginning of a new chapter. Chapter 18 in the final part of the story. But his attention was drawn to the second paragraph. It had been marked with a little cross in grey pencil.

His breath caught as he read the words:

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

Oh, God, she felt it too…

Thank you for continuing to read and review!

Apologies for losing complete control of the word count on this chapter. A challenging week at work (in the best kind of way), and this chapter became one of my escapes. As you can see, I needed to escape often!

Please check out Radiohead's "Exit Music (For a Film)" on YouTube. Included on "OK Computer", it was written to accompany the closing credits for the film "William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet" – a modern and (typically) flamboyant interpretation of the classic by the Australian director Baz Luhrmann. Thom Yorke's desperate pleas and vulnerable admission that he can't "do this alone" are heartbreaking. And then, everything just gets totally messed up.

While on a recent holiday, I bought a copy of Pride and Prejudice while sitting out flight delays at the airport. Even after all these years, Jane Austen can still lay claim to gifting us some of the best words ever published. This paragraph just took my breath away. How do you pinpoint that moment you fell in love? It's too hard – before even realising, you just know that you have.

I sadly don't own TSOM, I definitely don't own Pride and Prejudice – had a little lend of both this time.

"Immerse your soul in love"