A/N: Angst threat level: RED. Beware of heavy handed repurposed dialogue. Stay calm.

I got a lot of help from augiesannie and charleybec. I like to imagine them in cheerleader outfits made out of old drapes. Not really. Thanks, guys. And thank you to all who have reviewed the story, keep them coming. Clearly it doesn't make me update faster. I'm just don't work that way. Ok, shutting up now.

Disclaimer: The usual. If I owned these characters, they would have mountain picnics every day. ;)

Chapter Ten

There were two days left before Georg had to leave for Italy. Two days that felt like an eternity as he navigated the remaining time avoiding Maria. Suddenly his large villa with its many rooms and extensive grounds seemed like a shoe box; Georg kept to his study to decrease the chance of an awkward moment when the children needed her which only seemed to be always.

At the same time it seemed like time was running out. He didn't want to leave things unresolved. He knew there was so much to say, so much to explain. She had to understand that he never meant for any of it to happen. The more he played the last few days over and over in his mind, the less he understood any of it himself. He did tease her, but he thought… he didn't know what he thought. He knew how it made him feel, though.

He knew the first time it happened. All he did was ask his children if they were glad to have their Fraulein back. Their love for her was evident, not only in the words they spoke, but in the adoration that bubbled from each and every one of them as they looked at her and clamored to be near her. Louisa, his most reserved child, said that having Maria back made it feel like a real family. He caught her wipe the corner of her eye, laugh sheepishly and turn a lovely shade of pink. From that moment on he found himself doing or saying anything he thought would make her blush. He tread carefully at first having learned his lesson when it came to compliments, but lately she made it so easy for him to tease her.

It wasn't just her propensity to turn colors at the drop of a hat that fascinated him. There was something about her. There had always been something about her, something that burrowed deep into his conscience from the moment she blew into their lives, he was sure of it. And since his return home, that something had him in a vise.

It was her face, the faint splash of freckles across the bridge of her nose, her smooth lips so ripe and lush, and her eyes—sparkling even in the dimmest light, but simply shining when she laughed. Oh, her laugh! It was the sweetest music, so light and pure. It was her infectious smile. It was her voice, always joyful, ever singing, chasing away thunderstorms for frightened children and sorrow from a broken Captain.

It was in the way she walked. Georg was no stranger to the language of a woman's walk. Elsa was fluent in seduction and used the sway of her hips and the tilt of her shoulders with expertise and strategy. He knew it was meant to entice, but there was no mystery at all. He could read her the second she entered a room. There was something incredibly feminine and alluring about the way Maria moved, yet there was nothing overtly sexy about it. Her purpose was nothing more than to cross the room or climb the stairs. And when she did, his eyes went with her.

It was her youth and her beauty, and she was so unaware that it gave her the ability to demand and get anything she wanted in this life if she so choose. But that was just it, he realized, even if she sensed this power in herself, she would never use it. It was kept a secret too long, cloaked and veiled under a nun's habit and then the hideous clothes the poor didn't want. His heart pounded fast at the thought of what satins and silks would reveal about her. He was sure he wouldn't be able to stand it.

It was her edges and her curves. Her strength and her gentleness. Her highs and her lows and everything in between, all of it irresistible, though he did try to resist. When he came across her in Frau Schmidt's office and somehow managed to offend her once again, all of it – her voice, her eyes, everything – seemed wild and exciting and he found himself wondering if her mouth would yield if he were to kiss her, if there would be any weight to her as she leaned into his arms. He wondered if her skin was as soft as…

Her response knocked him out of the trance. The moment she shifted her hand to mold her palm into his, he knew he had undone everything. He didn't even dare to interpret what it meant that she didn't instantly withdraw from his touch because it didn't matter. He hadn't earned such tenderness from her. The past, no matter how much she insisted they leave it alone, was not settled. As long as he confined himself to his study, the chances of it ever being settled were slim. Georg wasn't sure if that was a relief or simply deepened his feeling of guilt.

There was a gentle knock on the door and he knew it was her. He should have known she would sense his mood. He cleared his throat and bid her to enter. He stood as soon as she opened the door. She offered a cautious smile when he stiffly gestured for her to have a seat.

"To what do I owe this honor, Fraulein?" He didn't know why he was being so formal and he could tell from the look on Maria's face that she wasn't expecting it either.

"I… I hope I'm not disturbing you," she hesitated, still standing.

"Not at all…"

"It's just that you've been avoiding me." Georg blinked at her bluntness. He began to formulate an excuse but thought better of it.

"Yes, well… I thought it was for the best."

"Oh, I see," she said quietly. Georg nervously tapped his fingers on his desk and started to search the room for the cocktail cupboard out of habit. Maria's eyes followed his around the room until it dawned on her what he was doing. She slumped into the chair across from his desk and repeated herself. "I see."

"I wonder," He mumbled as he returned to his seat. He finally looked into her face, and instantly regretted it. She was so beautiful, sitting wide eyed waiting for him to continue. He gathered himself and cleared his throat. "Fraulein, I want to apologize for my behavior the other night. It was awfully forward of me." He dared another glance at her and was surprised to see her crestfallen at his words. But only for a moment. She forced a smile and shrugged.

"No apology is necessary. There was no harm done."

"That's just it. I can't seem to do anything that doesn't hurt you or make you uncomfortable," he pushed, his voice thick with regret. "My compliments can't be trusted, I tease you in an attempt to be witty and all I do in the end is embarrass you."

"I know you don't mean any of it. Are you seriously torturing yourself because I can't take a joke?" Maria shook her head with amused doubt. "What is bothering you? I mean, really bothering you." Maybe this was it, this was the moment he needed. Something was bothering him, and had been for a long time. Too long, in fact, but she insisted that they not talk about it ever again.

Does it matter, he argued with himself. Are you afraid of losing her? She isn't yours, never will be. He brought his hand up to the back of his neck and scratched nervously.

"You've always been quite perceptive," he answered with a sad smile. "You saw through the way I treated my children. You knew it was grief that made me push them away. You never doubted that I loved them." Maria watched him with careful eyes, patiently wondering what he was trying to say. Georg sat up straight, folded his hands neatly on his desk and took a deep breath. "Something is bothering me, Fraulein, bothering me very deeply."

"Well, if I can help..."

"You can help. In fact, you are the only one who can help me." He stood up and began to pace around by the side of his desk, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. For Maria he conjured memories of her first day, listening to the strict father explain the importance of discipline for the entire household.

"Me? I'm not sure -"

"I am. Do you have no idea what has been torturing me ever since you left us?" He watched as understanding and dread dawned. Her face, serene until that moment, gathered in furrowed lines across her brow. "I know you don't want to discuss it and that I promised to leave it alone. But sometimes, when I look at you… instead of being thankful for all that you've done for my family, I remember how close I nearly ruined their happiness… and how close I came to ruining you."

"Please, Captain. Please, I beg of you -"

"You beg me," he nearly spat her words with a self-loathing growl. "I often think of how you must have begged me to stop." Georg turned on her, daring to get closer and louder. He could feel the hopelessness grow and take over. He was sure his words would anger her and cause her to flee, but he was too far in to stop. He was tired of the denial, of letting his tortured imagination fill in what he didn't know with images that made him sick. "I want to know what happened, Fraulein. I need to know. And you are the only one that can tell me."

Maria flew out of her seat, causing him to take a step back. He held up a hand to calm her, surprised and dismayed by the look of fright in her eyes. He should have anticipated how scared she would be after he dredged it all back up. Clearly she had been more successful at suppressing the memories than he had ever hoped to be. If only he knew her secret they wouldn't be having this discussion at all. They'd be no better off, but they'd be spared the agony of it.

"I'm not going to… I won't hurt you, Maria," Georg said, trying unsuccessfully to make his words come out even and soft. "I never should have dared to touch you the other night, but please... please talk to me." His words trailed off into silence.

"Tell me why," she demanded quietly. He could hear the sorrow in her voice, see the tears brimming on the lids of her eyes and it pained him to know he was breaking her all over again. "Why do you need to know the details? Isn't enough to say that it happened and try to forget it? What good can it do?"

"For you, probably none at all. I know I'm being selfish by asking, but I was so drunk that night. I don't remember any of it. I woke up with your necklace in my fist and the scratches on my face. I was so horrified at the sight of myself, but I couldn't fathom that I could have been so despicable to you. When Max told me what happened, that you managed to get away… I felt no relief! I was grateful, but I was so ashamed. I am still ashamed."

"You were drunk! You were stricken with grief! You were not yourself!"

"Precisely my point! I am not saint, but never in my life have I ever tried to press my advantage with women, sober or otherwise," he threw up his hands and brought them down to his side in tight fists, trying to figure it out one more time. "Please tell me what we did, what we said. Just this one time, and I promise I will never ask again. You've been so merciful to me, forgiving me…"

"I meant it, Captain. I forgive everything -"

"… and then you came back…"

"I had nowhere to go. You gave me a job. And I missed the children so it was easy, really…"

"Your letters gave me hope, Maria, that somehow I could wake from the nightmare I plunged us into that night. They gave me hope that I could be friends with the woman taking care of my children, without fear or regret. But then I came home, and…" He stopped himself quickly, but Maria's head whipped around to look at him.

"And?"

"And you were so wonderful. Don't you see? You hold my entire life in your hands, my household, my children, everything is under your care and you've made it so much better. It has made me see you differently. I want to be worthy of all of it, but I'm not! And I never will be!" He couldn't bring himself to say what was really in his heart, that he was falling madly in love with her. Even if he had the right and the courage to love her, she deserved a better man. He was sure that the wretched way he was feeling was proof he would never be that man. He dropped his gaze to the floor, and turned away dejectedly. However, he froze when a cry escaped from her lips.

"It's not your fault, it's mine! I'm to blame for wrecking everything! It's all my fault!" She struggled to speak through the tears that were falling fast. He shook his head violently at her words.

"How can you say that? You could never have asked to be treated like that, no woman would! I refuse to let you accept a moment of blame, not a single solitary moment."

"It's true, and if I tell you what happened, you'll change your mind." Maria slumped into the nearest chair and quickly wiped the tears away. She sounded so small to him. His hands flexed with the urge to reach out and comfort her.

"I doubt it very much." Georg pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She accepted it and looked at him with such contrition that his arms began to ache to hold her and given her whatever peace he could offer. "Not ever. My heart is already made up about you." Maria's eyes widened, but it didn't seem to make her any surer. Finally, she nodded with a shaky sigh.

"I provoked you," she began. "That morning I did what I always do. I knew it was a difficult day for you, and I knew you wanted to be left alone. Even the children warned me but I didn't listen. I always say and do what I think and feel. It's one of my biggest faults. The Reverend Mother called it honesty but even she would have been disappointed if I told her what I did. What I did was anything but honest.

"The day went so horribly wrong right from the beginning. I made the children miserable, you were livid. I think Frau Schmidt wanted to toss me out on my head for not listening to her advice." Maria paused and winced at the memory of that day. Georg frowned. He was fully aware that he forced everyone to tiptoe around his dark moods, but it was never pleasant to be reminded. Maria looked around nervously before standing up to gather herself once more. "But I couldn't help it. It was so wrong."

"I know. I shouldn't have pushed everyone away."

"No, I don't mean you. I mean, everyone else! I accept that the children had no other choice, they had to deal with their own sorrow, but at least they had each other. You had no one, Captain. The Baroness, Herr Detweiler… why did they abandon you? Why didn't they try to help you?" Maria's questions punched the air as she paced. "It was wrong. He's your best friend." Georg was stunned. Was there no limit to her charity when it came to him?

"They didn't abandon me. Quite the contrary. Max has tried many times to make me see how I was destroying everything good in my life. He's known me a very long time and he knows what I'm like. You, however, had no way of knowing that I would lash out."

"Lash out? You didn't lash out."

"What would you call it, then?" Georg's voice rose to a new level, heavy with renewed disgust at himself. He barely noticed how Maria flinched at his outburst. He sighed and motioned for her to continue.

"I wanted to apologize to you. I didn't think I could sleep until I knew you were all right," Maria pushed through her story.

Georg nodded. The little he did remember of that day was that he spent most of it alone, sitting entirely motionless, except for the brief moments it took to refill his glass. It was the one day a year that he let his misery completely take over his mind, allowed himself to think about how powerless he was to stop death, how angry he was that she didn't fight to stay with him, how guilty he felt to be alive when she was gone. When he woke up the next morning, he assumed he just let the alcohol take him where it always did – oblivion.

"I don't remember," he mumbled. "I don't remember you finding me at all."

"No, I'm sure you don't," she said with a weary laugh. "At first I wasn't sure you were awake. Then you moved and suddenly you looked at me and you weren't angry. You were glad to see me, in fact. It was quite a relief. At first. Because you were in such a good mood, I decided to help you."

"I still don't see how any of this proves you were at fault."

"Because you thought I was…," Maria faltered. "…her."

"Her name was Agathe. You can say it. It doesn't hurt anymore to hear her name."

"Yes," Maria whispered as she brought a trembling hand across her forehead and braced herself to continue. "At first you were quite charming. But once we got upstairs—"

"Hold on," Georg interrupted. "You helped me up the stairs? To my room?" He didn't mean to sound so shocked and regretted that he did. Maria dropped her head lower as she nodded.

"I was just going to make sure you got to your room, but you could barely walk. I couldn't just leave you in the hall, sir. Someone would have found you. Maybe one of the children."

"I thought… I thought it happened here."

"No."

Georg hadn't expected this revelation. He was sure he stumbled to bed on his own. The entire nightmare was proving to be a level of disgrace he never could have imagined. He had been so angry and grief-stricken that the mention of his wife's name sent him into a tailspin of despair, but now, because of this incredible woman before him, he could think about her without pain. He could speak her name with a smile. The shame of what he did to her was instantly reborn. If he hadn't clung to his sorrow…

"I thought you were my wife," he said softly, prompting Maria to continue.

"You had so many questions for her. They were heartbreaking to hear, I can only imagine what it was like to let them fester away inside for as long as you did." Instantly Georg bristled.

"Don't do that! Don't make excuses for me! It doesn't matter if I drank one glass or a whole bottle! It doesn't matter what you say, it will never convince me that I am not a monster for what I did to you!"

"But I told you, it was my fault! I didn't know! I didn't know how much you loved her."

"What?"

"Don't you see? You thought I was her and I let you! You begged to know why she left you and in that moment I didn't understand how dangerous it would be. I should have had more respect!"

"Maria, you aren't making any sense."

"You said you missed her, that you were lonely." The tremor in her voice grew with each word. "You asked why she left you, why she went away. I thought if you heard an answer, if she gave you an answer, you could begin to let go of all that pain."

"You wanted to help," Georg told her, still bewildered by her agitation. "My family was suffering so much because of me. You saw a way to end it and for that I cannot find any fault in you, only kindness. What I cannot understand is why you do not see it the same way."

"I wasn't kind, I was stupid and arrogant!" Maria exclaimed, her voice thick with tears. "I made sport of your heartache, Captain. I didn't know how much you loved her. I didn't know what love is!"

"And… now you do?" he asked softly. Maria was so off guard by the tenderness in his voice that she blurted her answer without stopping to consider what she was saying.

"Yes. No! I-I don't know." She turned away, unable to stand the sympathy in his eyes. Georg watched and waited as she seemed to be weighing something in her mind. "I didn't know that kind of love even existed. You loved her with all your heart. She was your heart, wasn't she? You loved each other so completely that when she died, a part of you died as well."

Georg couldn't deny what she said was the truth. Agathe wasn't just his heart, but his soul as well. He used to think that his only purpose in life was to love her and without her, there was no meaning to his existence at all. Suddenly, standing there with Maria it struck him that everything Agathe gave him in her life was not revoked in her death; she taught his heart how to love and he was supposed to go on loving without her. He felt his chest expand as if the vise that gripped him for the last few months crumbled to dust around him and he could finally fill his lungs with air.

"Maria, please look at me," he said in a low voice, moving closer to stand behind her. She turned, and he smiled before he could help it. Her face was drained, her eyes puffy and red and yet in this subdued and meek state she still took his breath away. "You amaze me. You said you had no idea how much I loved her, but somehow you put it perfectly into words."

"Your letters," she confessed through shallow gulps of air. "I found them in the attic when we were going through Christmas decorations. It was wrong of me, I know."

"Maria…"

"They were beautiful letters, Captain. So full of devotion. She belonged to you, and you belonged to her," Maria continued over the sound of her name. Pain and awe was etched across her face as she recalled each one. "I had no business reading them after what I did. I had intruded enough."

"I don't mind. I might even be glad." Maria blinked at what he said. She shook her head and looked away again.

"But you see, I'm still searching for my life. I wanted to be a nun so much and now I'm afraid." She finally looked up, her eyes meeting his. He didn't speak, but Maria could read the question on his mind. "I'm afraid to want something as much as that again."

"What do you want?" Georg moved slowly to face her. He was pleased that she didn't pull away. His eyes implored her to stay and answer him.

"I want—"

"Yes?" He brought one of his hands to her cheek and brushed it lightly with the back of his fingers, feeling her brace herself against his touch. He dared himself further as he waited for her to speak, dragging his fingers and sinking them into her golden hair as he held her head.

"I want—"

His eyes dropped to her mouth, slightly parted. As he drew her lips closer, he could feel the sweetness of her breath against face. She offered a protest, but made no move to withdraw from him.

"Don't." Georg saw her mouth form the word, but he wasn't sure she actually said anything.

He pressed his lips lightly to hers, reveling in their warmth. He lingered very still at first, then slowly moved his mouth against hers. He drew his tongue softly across her lips, tasting the tears that had fallen only moments ago.

He knew he should stop. He meant to go slow and let her respond. The experience was light but intoxicating and his kisses become firmer. He reached his other arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Maria jerked her face away and glanced down at the sight of herself pressed against him. Georg tangled and untangled his fingers in her hair, caressing her throat with his thumb. She returned her gaze to him for a brief moment. Her hands floated over his chest as if unsure where to put them, finally deciding to place them tentatively on his shoulders.

He kissed her again, encouraged by her response to his embrace. As he became lost in the feel of her again, he was aware of her hands gripping his arms as if she needed his help to stand. When he moved to hold her even closer, however, she cried out and pushed herself out of his arms and took a step back. She brought her fingers to her swollen lips, still numb from his touch.

"I need to go," she muttered quickly. She appeared too calm to be crying, but tears were falling steadily. She turned and made her way quickly to the door. Georg couldn't think of any words to call her back so he just watched her bolt.

Even after she was gone he could feel the phantom of her so vividly on his skin. He closed his eyes, not willing her taste and smell to fade from his memory. She had permitted every touch and each kiss, not eagerly to be sure, but not exactly timidly either.

No matter how sure he was that she welcomed his affections, it didn't keep fear from seeping into his mind. She left in a hurry, something about needing to go. He dreaded what that could mean and by the time he made his way to his bedroom, he was convinced he only succeeded in making her leave them again. This time, however, it would be for good.

OoOoOoOoO

The next morning Maria woke up from a fitful sleep, her mind replaying everything that had happened. The feelings that rushed through her body and mind were brand new for her, but the Captain… he knew what it meant to love. It would only be a matter of time before he realized that she had nothing to offer him.

Still, she would have to be blind to not notice the way he looked at her with ardent desire. Before that moment, the only look she received from men were condescendingly lewd, inducing a deep feeling of unworthiness. She felt herself brought higher in the Captain's eyes and just that thought alone made her swoon.

She wished she hadn't run off like she did, as if the kiss didn't suit her. The truth was, it did suit her, very much and that is what scared her, and she wanted more. She brought her fingers to her lips again and closed her eyes, reliving the sensation of his mouth as it covered hers, the warmth of his solid form as he pulled her closer with his arm securely around her waist. It was lovely and devastating at the same time. She shouldn't allow herself to love him because there was so much to lose. She loved her job, adored the children. And there was him, the Captain. She would lose his presence in her life.

A soft knock at the door caused her heart to pound faster. Her first thought was that it was him, probably coming to apologize before breakfast so they could both enjoy the meal without embarrassment, or so the children wouldn't pick up on the awkwardness between them. Only she didn't want it to be him. She didn't want him to be sorry.

"Fraulein Maria?" A faint female voice called to her through the door. Maria recognized it as one of the housemaids. She hurried to open the door, fearing an emergency involving one of the children.

"Yes? What is it?"

"I found this while lighting the fires this morning," the maid said, holding out a small envelope with Maria's name on it. Once again the handwriting was unmistakable. "I thought I should bring it up right away."

"Thank you," Maria nodded as she took the note from her.

"Breakfast is about to be served, Fraulein. The children are already downstairs," the girl informed her. Maria looked at the clock by her bed. It wasn't the first time she got lost in her thoughts and ran late getting to breakfast. She could hear the Captain teasing her already.

"I'll be right down," Maria answer, dismissing the maid with a smile. Once the door was shut again, Maria pried open the note.

Fraulein,

The company needed me to return to Italy right away. I hope you understand that I had to go.

Cap. GvT

Maria walked down the stairs and into the dining room in a daze. She struggled to remember if he had mentioned that there was a need for him to cut his trip short, but instead all she could recall was what they did talk about. An uneasy feeling came over her. She greeted the children who all sat solemnly waiting for her.

They must know, she said to herself. He must have left them a note as well.

"Fraulein, do you know where Father is? We can't find him anywhere," Liesl asked.

The uneasy feeling turned to stark disappointment; the Captain left without saying good bye. Even to the children.