Chapter Ten: Happiest Girl
And I would have to pinch her
Just to see if she was real
Just to watch the smile fade away
And see the pain she'd feel
Wanted to feel her joy
Feel it deep within
Wanted to feel her joy
Penetrate my skin
Happiest girl I ever knew
Why do you smile the smile you do
Georg sat at his desk, a pen in hand as he stared unseeing at a piece of paper. He'd been determined to write to her. To try one last time and tell her how he felt. To explain his actions to her. To make her understand. But he hadn't known what on earth to say. So far he'd only written her name. His words had failed him.
Too preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn't notice when the door opened and Max sauntered in.
"What are you doing, Georg?"
Hastily slamming his pen down, Georg couldn't help the guilty look that crossed his face. Looking up into the face of Max, his friend simply raised his eyebrows in question and slumped down into the seat in front of his desk.
"Something you're not supposed to be doing, I'm guessing?" asked Max, leaning forward as he tried to catch a glimpse at what he had written. Before he could act, Max's hand shot out and grabbed the letter. He paused and then eyed Georg seriously. "You must be joking?" He shook his head. "Why are you writing to her?"
With a deft hand, Georg snatched the letter back. "It is none of your concern, Max."
Rolling his eyes, Max heaved a sigh. "I thought we'd been over this, Georg. I thought you were over this… ridiculousness. It's been three months!"
"I need to talk with her, Max," he replied stiffly. "And it is not ridiculous."
They sat in silence a moment, both men weighing the other up. Georg was unsure as to whether he should be honest with Max; yes, he was his oldest friend. But, still. Georg was afraid to say it aloud. He didn't want to sound like an idiot, to profess to feelings he shouldn't have. To confess he felt something for someone he shouldn't have any feelings for at all. He shouldn't want to claim the young woman that had spent two months nurturing and loving his children when he couldn't. But, he did.
After a while, Max finally spoke.
"Georg," he said slowly, his tone cautious. "Do you love her?"
He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. Had he been that transparent? The first initial reaction he'd had was to deny it, but what was the point?
"Yes," he admitted. "I do."
Max sighed, and leant back in his chair with a small thud. "Did you let her see how you felt?"
Georg's brow creased. "I don't know. Possibly. I tried to stop her from leaving."
It was Max's turn to be confused, as he tilted his head to side and asked, "Stop her?" He leant forward again, slowly resting his hands on the top of Georg's desk. "You said she left a note and was gone in the morning."
"I found the note during the party," said Georg. "I went after her, but she refused to come back." He paused, recalling the horrible events of that night. Of his overinflated ego and her sharp dismissal. "She hit me."
"What?"
"I tried to persuade her not to leave," Georg muttered, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutinising gaze of Max. "But she wouldn't have any of it. She thought I wanted her in my bed."
"But you do."
Georg huffed angrily. "Yes," he growled reluctantly. "But I didn't just – I don't just want that. I swear, Max. But she just wouldn't listen to a word I said. She was so adamant about leaving that I could do little else but watch her get on that damn bus."
Another silence fell in the study, the air thick with unsaid words as Georg tried to calm the anger that had started to boil again. It was just so easy to be angry with her, to blame her stubborn refusal to listen for the way he felt. She was the one that had run away and so he had gone after her. Done what all those stupid fops did in those bloody novels she liked to read. But she hadn't wanted a bar of it.
Why did she run?
He distinctly felt like he had missed something, there had to be something. While he knew his thoughts towards the governess had been nothing close to innocent, he certainly had done his best – up until the party that is – to keep a respectable distance from her. Yes, a few times he had struggled. But he had never crossed a line. Never given in to the temptation to simply just pull her across the desk and ravish every inch of her skin.
His hand, which was had been gripping his unfinished letter, released the crumple paper. And then he stood, fixing his friend with a hard stare.
"Max," he said, "I don't know what I was thinking, but please can we not discuss this again."
He didn't bother to wait for a reply but simply stalked out of the study and headed for outside.
After getting into his car, he'd driven – very fast – down the winding roads of Aigen, going nowhere in particular. He'd managed to fuel himself into a rage over the whole ridiculous situation. It was illogical, they way he was acting. But he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.
He felt at a loss, stranded at sea with no ship, no crew and no hope. What would he have written in the letter? Professed his love to her? Would she have even have read it?
The questions kept running through his head and he had no answers to give. Just more questions.
The car came to a stop, the engine winding down as he put it in park and stared at his hands on the steering wheel. Without thinking, he'd driven all the way to Nonnberg Abbey. His eyes raked the looming building, and driven by the questions in his head, he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
He rang the bell, his fingers twitching as he waited for someone to come to the heavy iron gate. A few minutes later a nun appeared, her smiling face and pleasant voice welcoming him to the convent. In tones of commanding authority, he demanded to speak to the Reverend Mother. He then waited, for what seemed like hours, until he'd been lead into a warmly lit chamber where the Mother Abbess had agreed to see him.
The woman entered, and she was cool, but polite, in her stiff manner towards him. She seated herself behind a desk that took up one wall of the room, and gestured for him to take a seat. Deciding to get straight to point, he said that he needed to speak with Maria; but the woman's face momentarily lost its aloof demeanour, her face creasing in confusion.
"She's not here."
Georg stared. "What do you mean?"
"What I said, Captain, she isn't here," replied the Reverend Mother. "Maria left us just over two months ago."
Gone? "But what about her vows?"
"The life of the sisters was not the one she was born to live," replied the old woman slowly. She clasped her hands together and rested them on the desk. "When I sent her to you, I thought she might realise that a life inside these walls was not for her. I did not expect her to return the way she did – if I had ever expected something like that I would never have sent her to you."
Georg shook his head. "I am not sure what she has told you but I don't understand why she refuses to speak with me."
The nun regarded him carefully, her sharp eyes piercing right through him.
"Are you not engaged to a Baroness Schraeder?" she asked.
"No."
"Are you planning to be?"
"No."
The Reverend Mother paused and leant forward slightly. "Maria would not tell me much, she is a private person. But she said enough. And what she said was that you were marrying a Baroness Schraeder."
"At one point, I did plan to marry Elsa – Baroness Schraeder. But I had ended our relationship," said Georg.
"Well, this Baroness told Maria that you wished to keep Maria on, after the summer had ended." The Reverend Mother stopped and took a breath before continuing. "She made it quite clear to Maria that if she stayed, she would be persuaded to conduct an inappropriate relationship with you."
The simmering anger burst at that.
"I would never do such a thing!" Georg said emphatically. "Why would she listen to Elsa?"
"I do not know, Captain, but she was adamant that she didn't wish to hear from you."
Standing, Georg began to pace inside the small chamber as he ran a hand through his hair. The anger was back, his stomach churning. How dare Elsa?
Georg stopped pacing and faced the nun once more. "Please, Reverend Mother, whatever Elsa said to Maria isn't true. I would never do such a thing. And certainly not to Maria." Walking back over to the desk, Georg sat down, his eyes seeking hers. "You believed me to be an honourable man, and while I know I am not a perfect one, I swear that I would never have done, or tried to do, such things to the governess you placed under my care."
The woman in front of him said nothing but held his gaze. Trying desperately to convey that he was being sincere, Georg held his gaze with hers, trying to tell her without words how much he had come to care for the woman that had been sent to him.
After a moment, the Reverend Mother heaved a sigh. "Captain von Trapp, I like to think I am a fairly good judge of character. I was surprised to hear the things Maria told me about you, but I know that she is no liar." She fixed him with a sad smile. "I know that she is currently with another family, working as a governess. But I do not know where exactly. She visits every Sunday, however."
Sunday. That was four days away. With a curt nod and heartfelt thank you, Georg made his way back to the car.
When he made his way home, he found Elsa in the study, a pile of papers scattered over the coffee table by the fireplace.
"Elsa," he said in a low voice, shutting the door behind him. "What did you say to her?"
"Say to whom, Georg?" Elsa asked distractedly as she bent over the table.
"Fraulein Maria," he said.
Her face snapped around to face him, a look of surprise on it before she recovered with a strained smile. "The governess? I don't know what you're talking about, Georg." She moved over to his desk and picked a folder full of contracts. "Now, I was thinking-"
"Elsa!" Georg snapped, grabbing the folder off her and tossing it back on the desk. "I know you said something to her, something highly inappropriate."
"I made a mistake," said Elsa stiffly, refusing to meet his eye.
Walking closer to her, Georg asked in a deadly voice, "What did you say?"
"Georg, please, I was just upset and I made a mistake."
"Tell me."
Elsa flinched, visibly startled by the tone of his voice. But he was tired of her games; he needed to know exactly what he'd said to her.
"I saw the way you looked at her," said Elsa after a moment of tense silence, her body deflating in defeat. "And I told her I noticed it." She met his eyes, her blue eyes glassy. "She told me about your midnight walk. And how she helped you back to bed that night you got drunk."
"Nothing happened," said Georg, agitation seeping under his skin.
"Oh, maybe not," Elsa agreed with a sad nod. "But you forget, she's young and so naïve - she looked at you like you hung the moon. Poor thing didn't know what she was feeling." Georg gritted his teeth as she continued. "I told her it was only natural for her think of you that way, she is a woman after all. But I told her she should be careful, I mean, you are Georg von Trapp."
"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Georg spat.
Elsa gave a deep sigh "Oh, come on, Georg. Everyone knows what you were like before Agathe-" she paused and a faint flush suffused her cheeks. "And after. I just… filled her in."
His stomach dropped and a cold fear gripped at him. "What did you say?"
The room was thick with tension and he could see the rest of Elsa's composure slipping in the face of his unrelenting frustration.
"I told her how… passionate you are – in the bedroom," Elsa said quietly, a faint flush suffusing her cheeks. "I told her how you came to my room that night-" She shook her head and let out a short derisive laugh. "Oh, her face! The poor girl was white as a sheet. I told her you didn't know up from down that night and probably would have gone after anything with a pulse." She smiled sadly at him. "Which I guess is what you did do. I told her she was lucky she got away from you that night."
Elsa stared at him as they both stood in the tense and heavy silence. There was just the chime of the clock striking the hour and the rush of blood in Georg's ears.
Elsa moved towards him, placing her hands on his arms. "Georg, I'm sorry. And I've been trying to make it up to you, I swear. I honestly thought you'd get over it." Letting out a deep and measure breath, she continued in a more even voice, "We had been seeing each other for so long. I didn't think you'd really leave me for a girl half your age - and one that wants to be a nun. I was angry and hurt. After I saw you dance with her, I just- I just…"
"I don't even know what to say, Elsa," Georg said finally.
He could barely think. No wonder she'd left. She thought he was some depraved sex fiend who'd have no trouble sleeping with her and then tossing her back in the abbey after. But that was not true.
He loved her.
After all this time, he loved her. He'd been denying it for so long, pushing it away, ignoring it. Trying to turn her into nothing more than her title. Of course it hadn't worked – no wonder it didn't damn well work.
He was brought back to reality when Elsa spoke again.
"I am sorry, Georg," she said. "I really am, but I was just so angry I wasn't thinking."
"If you were feeling so awful you could have just told me the truth, Elsa."
Her glassy eyes closed briefly before she replied, "I refused to believe that Captain von Trapp had fallen in love with his governess."
Georg just stared at her. Two people in one day?
"You fooled nobody, Georg, except maybe yourself. I was just too selfish, too stubborn, to see it. Too desperate to cling to a man that never really existed." She let out a sad sigh and fixed her glassy eyes on him. "I shouldn't have done it, I know. I promise I will make things right."
Sitting at his desk, Georg wasted the rest of the afternoon trying to get through paperwork, but it was pointless. His heart and head just hurt. The thought of having to wait until Sunday just for the mere chance of seeing Maria was testing his patience but he had no other means of contacting her - had no idea where she was.
An hour ago, Max had come in and asked to borrow his car and he'd been too preoccupied with his own internal demons to really care. So, he'd tossed the keys to his friend with a grunt and then shut the door before he retreated back to his thoughts.
He was still incredibly angry with Elsa, but not as much as he should have been. He knew he deserved it. Maria hadn't, though. If Elsa had decided to torture him, he would have understood. But it had made not only Maria suffer, but his children. Her actions had hurt his whole family.
Family. Georg had only just become accustomed to being a family once more before Maria left. Things had improved since she'd left but there had still been something missing. And it was her.
He remembered an old comrade who had a hand removed due to infection and he would sometimes say how he could still feel it there and he would find himself surprised when he went to use it and nothing happened. Georg felt like that now. But not with his hand, but with his heart. It was like it didn't work properly without her. She had managed to keep it pumping, to stop it from freezing over.
There was some sort of commotion outside, earlier he had heard the roar of his car returning and then the ringing of the bell for dinner – all of which he'd ignored. With a quick glance outside, he saw the setting sun slip behind a mountain, the only light now coming from the crackling fireplace.
There was a knock on the door but he continued writing, knowing it was probably Max returning to question him further after his little jaunt.
Another knock.
"Not now, Max," said Georg. "I'm busy."
The door opened, and Georg continued flicking through endless reports, not really taking in any of the words. There was a click as the door closed and he dimly registered the sound of footsteps crossing over the carpet.
"I said not now, Max," he muttered.
"Captain."
And there she was, her hands twisting in front of her as she smiled at him nervously.
A/N I wrote three different versions of this as I ended up hating my original idea, so that's why it took so long for me to update.