The Twelfth Governess
Chapter XXV
A/N: The fight continues...
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
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If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.
Sun Tzu
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As much as Herr Max Detweiler enjoyed Elsa and Georg´s company, he had been mentally preparing himself to be bored to tears after only a couple of days in Aigen. He had not been lying during their conversation in the car - the company was perfect, the wine cellar unexcelled, and, although he had not said it then, the seven children wearing identical sailor suits absolutely adorable.
Well, a little too adorable at times, it was true, but he could very well live with that as long as he was not the target of one of their infernal pranks. Nevertheless, in spite of the quaint charms of the country life, Herr Detweiler considered himself to be a cosmopolitan man in the truest sense of the word. As such, he enjoyed the busy life of Vienna, rather than the quiet airs of Salzburgerland. He already longed for the smoke filled elegant cafés where he would be discussing the fate of the new talents he discovered with other equally cunning impresarios.
All that he forgot when he saw her.
Correction – until he saw them together.
Max was one very curious charming sponge, and considering the sight that greeted him when he stepped in the balcony, he could not resist watching the developing between two people shooting sparks at each other, refusing to admit defeat.
There could be some element of fun in the country after all!
While briefly serving in the glorious Austro-Hungarian Royal and Imperial Navy, his favorite pastime used to be watching those who dared to confront the formidable Captain Georg Ritter von Trapp. Although a fair and intelligent leader, Georg had always been a peculiar commander, and that had probably been one of the reasons why he had been awarded the highest medal of honor available at the time. Under normal circumstances, he used to treat his subordinates as gentlemen, even though, by any standards, the men who chose to volunteer to serve in those U-boats were in their majority, anything but that. He used to assert his authority not by force, but by sheer intelligence and reason, by the tone of his voice rather than its volume. For that, he was well liked and admired by most of the men he commanded, and there had never been the slightest hint of a mutiny while he was in active duty. It helped that they all knew about what they all called his dark side, which he showed occasionally to those who considered themselves clever enough to defy him. Only then, the fearsome Captain came into being. In these occasions, Max had seen all kinds of reactions to his friend´s blatant display of authority, none of which compared to what he was just witnessing.
Oh, she had to be the governess who was causing the Captain to act like a hormone driven young sailor, something that was quite obvious to everyone except himself. Well, maybe not to Elsa, but she was blinded by her own little obsession, not exactly with the man, Georg von Trapp, but with the idea of marrying him and with that, everything he represented – his status as one of Austria´s greatest heroes, and ultimately - although she had no need of it -, his fortune. She had known something was happening, but she was still in denial about what exactly was affecting him so much.
Max squinted, trying to see more of the young Fräulein from a distance. She was certainly not what he had expected. In his mind, he pictured a bosomy, bovine young woman with tightly braided hair looking at least a decade older than she actually was. As a postulant of Nonnberg Abbey, she would be holding a rosary at all times and who would talk of nothing without trying to impose her strict religious beliefs. He had to immediately correct this picture, starting with her appearance.
He first saw the governess standing up precariously in a very small boat with the Captain´s precious seven children. There wasn´t the slightest hint of the picture he had been expecting. Instead, the young woman looked more like a pixie, trim and light. Instead of a black habit he was expecting, what he saw was a short-haired haired girl, wearing a light colored, typical Austrian, country dress. When the children called her attention for the Captain´s presence, she opened her arms wide, as if she expected him to jump on them.
"Oh Captain! You´re home!" she had cried out, in a clear, high-pitched voice, in pure, unadulterated joy.
His very first thought had been "This one can sing!", however, something that his experience as an impresario taught him to tell, judging only by the sound of her voice. His second thought had been that he was only sorry he could not see Georg´s face when the boat capsized, and his seven little darlings, together with their curious little governess, fell on the water. His third thought, before things got more interesting, if possible, was:
"Prepare yourself for battle, Captain!!"
His last thought: "She looks nothing like a nun!"
Elsa, standing just behind Georg, apparently had been watching the events with cool detachment - well, as far as he could tell - quickly left the scene, as elegantly as she could possibly manage. If she too had been caught unawares by the postulant, she did not let it show. Max could not help but chuckling in amusement, as the Baroness walked past the soaked to the skin governess like a soft breeze, like if the poor girl did not exist at all.
Georg remained alone with the young woman. A future nun – an important and meaningful detail that Max would not allow himself to forget.
"Why didn´t he send her inside to change too, as he had done with the children?" Max asked himself. It wasn´t like the Captain he knew at all. "You old dog!" he said out loud, playfully punching the railing, when he realized the reason – although he doubted Georg himself was fully aware of it. The little Fräulein had quite a figure, one that was fully revealed by her clinging wet dress. She was nothing like the elegantly built Elsa von Schraeder, who appeared not to have a single gram of extra fat anywhere in her figure. No, the governess appeared to be soft and rounded in all the right places. More than enough to impress such a connoisseur of the female form as Captain von Trapp.
The girl was also deceptively small. Max remembered that Agathe´s head barely skimmed Georg´s shoulder, but this one was tall enough to meet him eye to eye without having an uncomfortable cringe in her neck. And that was exactly what she was doing not, as she confronted him, raising her voice whenever he raised his, matching his deadly scowls with some of her own.
What amused Max the most was the fact that, between the two of them, the governess seemed to be more in control of herself, and consequently less blinded by anger. Only those who knew him well could tell how rarely he raised his voice above the necessarily, polite level. He seldom had to shout his orders, it was the merely a cautionary glance or the tone of his voice that conveyed the command in his words. When arguing with a fellow officer or lecturing a subordinate, he usually resorted to sarcasm and irony to intimidate his opponent, not the power of his lungs. Yet, he was doing that now, and that slip of a girl was holding her ground, while he was barely aware of what was going on around them. As furious as he was with the whole incident, Georg had not noticed that he was about to loose his precious rowboat – a gift from Agathe when they moved to Aigen -, which was drifting away. The governess actually went for it, leaving the Captain only to stare at her, speechless.
Oh, he would very much loved to watch the following developments, but he heard Elsa´s voice calling him from inside the house. For some unknown reason, Max did not wish Elsa to witness what was going one, not yet. He needed to think, there were things he needed to understand.
"Max, darling, I think we are being called to the drawing room."
"We are? By whom?" he asked, quickly walking away, from the balcony. Somehow, he did not want Elsa to be disturbed by the scene developing by the lake. "Georg is still outside with the…"
"Fraulein!"
"… the Fräulein. Well, I think you heard him," said Max. He had cringed when they heard the Captain´s unmistakable bellow coming from outside. Elsa, however, kept her cool hauteur, and decided to ignore the commotion, even though the sound of Georg´s voice raised in anger was something she probably never heard before. In fact, it was probably something no one had ever heard before, unless he or she happened to watch him in action at sea. The only sign she had been affected by it was a slight raising of her perfectly shaped eyebrows.
"It appears Georg has his hands full dealing with her at the moment. No, it is not him who calls us. Oddly enough we are being called by the children."
Max raised his eyebrows. "The children? What could they want for us?"
"I assume the little dears want to apologize to me."
"Why? What they have done to you? Don´t tell me that you became the latest victim of one of their nasty tricks!"
Elsa was about to answer when an equally angry female voice that was heard this time, and it was obvious to Max to whom it belonged to.
"Oh, you arrogant, conceited, pompous…!"
"Dear Lord!" Elsa shrieked, rolling her eyes, taking Max´s arm and leading him towards the stairs. "Appaling, isn´t it? How déclassé is that?"
"I would not be so quick in drawning any conclusions, my dear." Max chuckled. "She may have a reason for calling him all those names…"
"Max, really!"
"Elsa, Georg can be a puffed up snob when he wants to. I know that, you know that. That girl, whoever she is, must a temper to match his own, and if she said that, I have a little doubt that he deserved at least part of it. Remember how Agathe used to scold him often when he was acting too much like the Baron and too little like the seaman, as she liked to say?"
"Yes, but Agathe was his wife, and not the help. Does that… little plebeian even know, does she even have the slightest idea of who he is?"
"Apparently not," said Max, still amused, as the sounds of the fight still reached them. "Refreshing, isn´t it? I wonder who the Captain deals with someone who doesn´t know what the von Trapp name stands for…"
"I am not finished yet, Captain!"
"Oh, yes, you are, Captain!"
"Of course she has never heard of him, what was I thinking… Did he just call her Captain?"
"I think he has!" Max wanted to double over in laughter, but he held himself back.
Leaving the room, Elsa began an endless monologue, as they descended the stairs towards the drawing room.
"Oh well! Let us forget about Georg and his troubles with the help. He will certainly deal with it just fine. Now, it also looks like the von Trapp children have a little surprise prepared for us, although considering the little I saw of them I shudder to think about what the surprise could be. I don´t think I can take anymore of that today."
Max smiled. "I suspect that seven children and one screaming governess calling Georg a conceited oaf must have been too much for you, am I right darling?
"Indeed! Climbing trees! And those ridiculous costumes that the poor little ones were wearing. Poor, darling Georg! That silly deranged little… twit! I supposed he must have fired her by now, it was the most sensitive thing to do. He does need my help around here, don´t you think? Especially with the eldest – she is quite a beauty. How old is she?"
"Liesl? Sixteen or seventeen, I believe."
"Well, she is just the right age to attend the next Opera Ball – with my help, she will be the most gorgeous débutante of the season. With those eyes and that face she will take Vienna by storm. Unfortunately, she is also old enough to get into trouble if not properly guided. God knows that poor girl will never find a suitable husband, worthy of her name and upbringing, buried in the country and prancing around dressed like that! Who knows what kind of company she and the other children have been keeping!"
"Since when are you an expert in childcare, my dearest Elsa?"
"I don´t have to be, and I don´t ever intend to be. I have that sweet little thing called money, darling, remember? I can pay for that kind of help I need. That, and I also have a cunning mind of my own. In fact, I have a few ideas I would love to discuss with you later…"
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A few moments earlier…
"Now, where were we?"
"Hah!" he exclaimed, remembering Louisa´s scarf in his hand. He held it up to his eye level and asked her, "Where, may I ask, did the children get these – uh...? He was holding the piece of cloth between his thumb and forefinger, and looking at it like if it was something slimy enough to make him nauseous.
"Play clothes," she provided evenly.
It was obvious, even to her, that such kind of wear was unheard of in an aristocratic family such as his. Well, he had only himself to blame. If he had even listened to her about the need for suitable clothes, she would never have needed to resort to such extremes. While she was growing up, anything could be made into clothes – old curtains, old tablecloths, old linen, so there was nothing out of the ordinary about fact in itself. Naturally she was not naïve to believe that things were not the same in rich families, but it was an emergency situation, and she had to use what she had at hand.
"Oh, is that what you call them?" he asked, sardonically.
Yes, she knew that from his half smile and his deceptively playful tone that there was a lot more trouble to come, but she still managed to keep her cool, calm voice.
"I made them -- from the drapes that used to hang in my bedroom." There it was, another confident, slow and sure answer. Sometimes, the best weapon was the truth. Although Maria had never been to war, that was a little something she had learned in life.
"Drapes!" he exclaimed incredulously, flinging the scarf aside with unexpected violence, as, apparently his worst suspicions came true.
"They still had plenty of wear left. The children have been everywhere in them," she added meaningfully.
His ire only grew.
"Oh Lord, this is not working!" She meant to disconcert him with the truth, not to anger him even more, if that was possible.
"Do you mean to tell me that my children have been roaming about Salzburg dressed up in nothing but some old drapes?!"
"Salzburg did not seem to mind what they were wearing, Captain." He took a step closer to her, and still she tried not to flinch.
"Fräulein, do let me try to get the full picture of this. Did you take my children to the Altstadt dressed like that? Did they walk up and down the Getreidegasse dressed like tattered urchins?"
"Mm-hm. They did, and they had a marvelous time! I did tell you in my telegram, didn´t I?"
He crossed his arms over his massive chest. "Are you being iconoclastic on purpose?"
"I beg your pardon?" She mimicked his gesture, crossing her arms too and facing him steadily.
"Irreverent. Nonconforming. Difficult."
"Oh, I know only too well what that means!" One had flew to her head. "Hmmm… I think Sister Berthe might have applied that word to me before. When I first entered the Abbey, she said I sometimes acted like a heathen…"
"Fräulein!" he yelled.
She shrugged, unaffected by his loud tone of voice. "I suppose I am, Captain, but you asked for it. You left me no alternative. I tried to talk to you twice before you left, but you would not listen."
"I had no wish to. They have uniforms!" His penetrating gaze was just beginning to affect her in the strangest possible way, even though she knew there was hardly more than anger in its depths.
"Straitjackets, if you'll forgive me."
"I will not forgive you for that." The elegant irony was gone from his voice now.
She chose to answer in the same tone, and raised her voice slightly. "Captain, with all due respect, when I was sent here, the Reverend Mother said that I would not have to worry, because I would not be in one of your warships."
"And?"
"And she happened to be wrong!"
"So now you are rebelling against your Reverend Mother as well!" He sounded incredulous. "Tell me, what exactly what are you planning to do to the poor woman when you return to that Abbey?"
"Nothing at all! I never considered myself to be a rebel, Captain, but when I see something wrong I do have to say something about it."
"Ah ha! And you do not know when to stop, do you?"
She took a deep, calming breath. "They have uniforms, and answer to whistles. They march and stand in a straight line in the order of their age. Frankly, Captain! Your methods may have been right for our glorious Navy, but when applied to children they are completely disastrous."
"Disastrous?!" Immediately, she concluded that she was facing a man who was not exactly used to be told in the face that he was wrong about something.
"Yes, Captain. Completely wrong, outdated and unnatural."
There, she had said it. That was, more or less, the full extent of what she thought about the running of his household, especially where his children were concerned.
"Hah! You! How dare you to question my methods? You, who most certainly does not know the first thing about raising a family!" The comment hit a sore spot, and she flinched visibly. "I thought so," he said, when he noticed her reaction. Taking advantage of her sudden vulnerability, he continued. "Tell me, isn´t the strict discipline you chose voluntarily to live by just as outdated as my uniforms and whistles? Why is that hideous black habit you wear more adequate than their sailor suits?"
"Because…"
Her eyes opened and closed again – yes, he had a point, and for a moment, her mind was nothing but a huge blank. Her throat tightened, and to her horror, she felt as if she was about to cry, something that she rarely did.
"Because…" she repeated, as he did nothing but to stare ominously at her.
Although he had hurt her with his words, more deeply than she cared to admit, she knew why he had done it. Maria knew the feeling well. She too had been pushed too far, and, whenever that happened, words began pouring out of her mouth without any control, her voice louder and louder.
The answer came to her, and she felt her confidence return as she retorted. "Because they are children! Ehm…Children cannot do all the things they're supposed to do if they have to worry about spoiling their precious clothes all the time."
"I haven't heard them complain yet," he interrupted.
"Oh well, they wouldn't dare. They love you too much. They fear you too much."
"Fräulein, I realize you may not be familiar with our way of life, considering where you come from, but it is a principle in all distinguished homes that…"
It was his condescending inflection of his voice, more than what he had said, that drove her to the edge.
"Where I come from? Oh, you arrogant, conceited, pompous…!"
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and what made it worse, and somewhat out of character for her, was that, this time, she did insult him. She was about to end the flow of uncomplimentary words by calling him a presumptuous snob, but her hands covering her own mouth stopped the flow of words just in time. Yet, Captain von Trapp, in spite of his altered state of mind, was too much of a gentleman not to realize that he too had gone a little too far.
"I will forget I heard any of that, Fräulein, and I ask you to forget what I said before. However – and hear me well, because this shall be my last warning to you - I do not wish to discuss my children in this manner, not with your or anyone else," he said tersely.
"Well, you've got to hear from someone. You're never home long enough."
He clearly resented her accusatory tone, his fists clenched. "I said I don't want to hear any more from you about my children."
"I know you don't! But you've got to!" He faced her, speechless, and she took full advantage of the brief pause. "Now, take Liesl..."
"You will not say one word about Liesl, Fraulein…"
"She's not a child anymore."
"O-ho, isn´t she? If your intention is to bring up that despicable aspiring little Nazi, you are wasting your time and mine. I already know."
"Oh!"
"Yes."
"Oh Lord, is he really a…"
"He thinks he is," he smirked.
"You see? One of these days you're going to wake up and find she's a woman, and you won't even know her. Friedrich is being more protective of her right now than you are!"
"You are doing it again…"
"Yes, Friedrich. He's a boy but he wants to be a man like you and there's no one to show him how. He is doing the best that he can, but…"
"Don't you dare tell me about my son!"
"Brigitta could tell you about him if you'd let her get close to you. She notices everything. Yes, she hides behind books all the time, but it is her way of escaping something she is powerless to change."
"Fraulein..."
"Friedrich told me he is interested in Medical School, but Kurt… Kurt is the one who is willing to follow your footsteps in the military. You should see how proud he is when he starts talking about what you did at sea. He idolizes you. Still, he only pretends he's tough not to show how hurt he is when you brush him aside..."
"That will do."
"... the way you do all of them. Louisa I don't know about..."
"I said, that will do!"
"... but someone has to find out about her and the little ones just want to be loved. Oh, please, Captain, love them, love them all!"
She finished her speech in a pleading tone, walking towards him. Once more, he seemed completed unaffected.
"I don't care to hear anything further from you about my children!"
"I am not finished yet, Captain!"
"Oh, yes, you are, Captain!" Maria looked at him, surprised at his slip of tongue. Before she could say to him that she had been called many things in life before, but Never had the priviledge and the honor to be addressed as Captain, he shook his head impatiently and corrected himself. "… Fräulein. Now, you will pack your things this minute..."
Maria wanted to listen to him, but other sounds began to attract her attention. Children's voices raised in song – the von Trapp children.
"The hills are alive…"
"At last," she thought. In truth, she had been afraid the children would loose their nerve after the awful scene and forget all about the song for the Baroness. The Captain´s next words, however, quenched the small glimmer of hope that began growing in her heart when she heard the children singing.
"... and return to the Abbey…" he was saying.
There, the final verdict. The one she had been expecting, and that had given her courage to fight that final battle with him. A battle she entered convinced that she had nothing to loose, and now, strangely, she felt like she had lost everything.
"With the sound of music..."
"What's that?" Was his abrupt question when the sounds of the children's voices invaded his brain.
Maria could only state the obvious. "It's singing." Yes, it most certainly was singing. What baffled her was that she had been responsible for it. Until that moment, she had not fully realized that she had actually done a superb job coaching those seven children. As far as she could tell, their pitch was nearly perfect, even though they were nervous about performing for the first time in front of strangers. Even Friedrich was managing to keep some measure of control in his changing voice.
"With songs they have sung..."
"I´ve done it. I´ve really, really done it!" She told herself. Everything else about her task may have turned out to be a disaster, but not this. She had done it alone, without Sister Katherine´s help, without the help of anyone else in the convent. She only would have to share her merit with the children, and she would gladly do so, because for the rest of her life, Maria would remember that moment as the one she realized she was actually good at something.
"Yes, I realize it's singing but who is singing?" he interrupted her thoughts.
"For a thousand years..."
"The children." She had stated the obvious again, and yet, it evidendly had been far from obvious to the Captain.
"The children?" He whispered. Astonished, the Captain turned his head towards the house.
"The hills fill my heart..."
"I taught them something to sing for the Baroness," she started to explain, but he was hardly listening to her. He strode to the house.
Mutely, she watched him go, not daring to think about what could happen next.