Only a quick note this time. I understand that some of you would perhaps prefer not to know the contents of the letter, sometimes our own imaginations make more sense than what's written, so I'll take no offence if you wish to have your own interpretation of it. Anyway… Here's chapter ten. I can't believe we're now in double figures!

Disclaimer: I own nothing - although I really, really wish I did.

The (A-Z) Manual of Engagement

Chapter Ten – Jeopardy & Jubilation

Late July 1937

Georg von Trapp had been a naval hero. He had sailed around the world, sunk many a ship, endured torture, and escaped an almost inevitable death by the skin of his teeth more times than he could count. One could even say that the esteemed captain had experienced so much in his life that he had become fearless - he would even begin to believe it himself – until a young postulant, with soft golden hair and sparkling blue eyes had breathed new life into his home, his children – and dare he say it? Somehow, she'd breathed new life into him. However, she made him realise that he was far from fearless. He didn't fear her of course - or did he? However, he feared losing the new lease of life he had all over again. He feared losing sight of himself again, feared losing the joy and happiness that spread through his home and most importantly, he feared his children losing the one person who had revitalised them – and in turn – revitalised him.

If that were the case however, then why did he feel so deflated as of this moment? He had managed to retreat to his safe space after the children had finally settled. The study door provided the support he needed as he fell against it with a loud thud. He had dubbed his study as his 'sanctuary' years ago. Perhaps it was given its title as it was the one place he could run away to, immerse himself in his work, or even perhaps it was the one place where he could have some peace and quiet. The latter had unfortunately failed to serve its purpose for the past couple of months however, for as soon as he found himself alone with so-called 'peace and quiet', his mind became flooded with an infectious smile, a melodious laugh, and the haunting sound of her voice.

It was now a room that was filled with anything but peace and quiet.

He let out a groan as he smoothed his hand over his face. Getting the children into bed that night had been an almost impossible task. Questions regarding his governess's premature departure had been thrown at him from seven different directions. He responded to all of them with one answer: that she missed her life at the abbey too much, and that the children had no choice but to respect her wishes.

Deep down however, he thought her reasoning for leaving was inadequate at best, and downright infuriating at worst. It just didn't make any sense! She seemed to thrive whilst she was under his employ, the entire family had – eventually – come to see her as a highly valued and popular member of the household staff. Maybe that was the issue at hand. After all, she was never supposed to be a governess to seven children. She was supposed to be a nun, to take her vows at the end of the summer and serve God within the confined security of the abbey's walls.

But was she? Her spirited nature, extroverted personality, and the ability to bring out the best in everyone she met were not the traits of a nun in his mind. At first, he had found her defiance her towards him to be the most irritating experience, but somewhere along the way, she had enchanted him like some kind of hypnotic spell.

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it had happened, but he realised rather suddenly that he would catch himself gazing at her without her being aware. The way she walked, the way she spoke to him, the gestures they had shared.

Those guileless blue eyes that bore into his very soul once their dance had come to a rather abrupt end.

That blasted dance!

If anyone else had asked him, he would tell a half-truth, that he was merely teaching the children how the Laendler was supposed to be danced. Of course, only he knew the whole truth. He had been aware of just how much he enjoyed letting his eyes rest on her when he let his gaze run over her body as she passed him through the doors on the night of the puppet show. He had been playing a dangerous game, testing the boundaries of their relationship, and had clearly crossed the threshold once he noticed just how much he kept his eyes on her during their dance until Elsa had broken the spell between them. A pang of guilt and embarrassment bolted through his chest with the knowledge that Elsa had seen them. He didn't know how much she had seen, but he supposed it hardly mattered now.

At what point had he become so transparent? He was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but once again, his governess had managed to enrapture him to such an extent that she had unwittingly pulled his perfectly concealed mask violently from his face.

With a heavy sigh, he began to pace in front of the fire that crackled away merrily, but he felt no warmth or comfort from the amber hue that the firelight offered. What was he going to do? He usually prided himself in being able to solve problems in matter of moments, severity depending. It was his quick thinking that had led him to being decorated by the emperor. He concluded that one could not simply solve a problem like Maria. He decided that perhaps he didn't need to, and resigned himself to the fact that she was an enigma that would one day become a distant memory. The summer that he had almost been foolish enough to believe that he had begun to feel something for her beyond the parameters that an employer should feel towards their staff.

He had to act, he needed to rid himself of her. Coming to an abrupt halt in his pacing, he rushed over to his drinks cabinet to pour himself yet another brandy and gulped down the contents before pouring another. He did this twice more, welcoming the burn of the liquid as it rushed down his throat.

Feeling his inhibitions lessen, he slumped at his desk and pulled out several sheets of paper. He didn't know what had possessed him to do it, but he had decided to write to her with the pretence of writing on behalf of the children. In fact, it would make sense to enquire after her, wouldn't it? It's what any employer would do, he reasoned. He wanted to make sure that she had arrived back at the abbey safely. That was reasonable… Surely! Without thinking, he began to scrawl away on the paper in front of him.

He couldn't tell how long he had been writing, was it mere minutes or long hours? He wasn't sure, but it became apparent that his intention to simply enquire after her had been long since forgotten. He stared down at the page full of his own masculine handwriting and scowled. This would not be as easy as he thought. He angrily scribbled over the page in a desperate attempt to erase what he had written, before scrunching the page into a tight ball and threw the offending item into the fire. He watched as the flames engulfed the paper until it became embers. Rather unexpectedly, he felt an intense rush of relief pulse through his veins as the embers then became nothing more than specs of ash.

That was when it dawned on him. Maybe he could pen two letters? One that he could send to the Reverend Mother, and the other… Well… He could write whatever he wished; he didn't have to send the letter to her. Instead, he could write his thoughts down open and honestly before ridding himself of her once and for all by tossing the letter into the fire.

He pulled another piece of paper into position. At first, he honestly intended to write to the Reverend Mother, but he had subconsciously scrawled a different name on the page: Fraulein Maria. He pinched the bridge of his nose with an agitated sigh. What was the use in even attempting to write something formal, even to the Reverend Mother? No matter how much he tried, as soon as he put pen to paper, all he could write about was her. He decided that there would be no use in fighting his internal battle, before long, it would join the other page that were nothing but wisps of ash at the bottom of fire. With that, he began again and finished it rather quickly.

He crouched down before the fireplace, paper in hand. For a moment, he closed his eyes and allowed the warmth of the fire to wash over his face. He opened them again and looked down the letter before attempting to let the flames set the paper alight, but as soon as he reached the proximity of the heat, he found that the fire defied him. Much like two identical poles of a magnet, he felt his hand repel against the flames. Despite himself, he let out a bitter laugh. Even a letter with her name on it refused to obey him, exactly like she did.

14th October, 1937

She changed into her nightgown before she opened the drawer to find the envelope with her name on it. She shuffled under the bed covers, welcoming the comfort it offered and held the envelope. Her hands shook slightly in anticipation, and with her heart in her throat, she tucked her thumb under the seal of the envelope, prizing it open.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the letter and prepared herself to read the words her captain had written on that fateful night.

Fraulein Maria,

Apologies for the impromptu letter, but I wanted to write to you following your premature departure. I wanted to show my gratitude and thank you for everything you have done for my family. Without you, we would not even be a family. Because of you, the house has been filled with music, laughter, and love, I am forever in your debt. I am sorry that you have been missing the abbey and had to leave us. The children will understand eventually, but they miss you terribly. We all miss you terr... No, I miss you. I hope one day that you will return, but once again, I understand if you decide not to.

The truth is, Fraulein – if I were to shed all the pretence – somehow, you and I have evolved from employer and employee, to friends, to something entirely different, something I have felt before but never dared myself to believe. Honestly, it frustrates me to no end, you occupy my thoughts every moment of every day, yet I sit here in my study, preparing myself to propose to another. You have touched my mind in a way that I am struggling to fathom. I must remind myself that you are promised to God. I must accept that I am too late in realising my feelings for you.

I wish you every happiness Maria, and I can only hope that the children and I cross paths with you again.

Yours truly,

Georg

Captain von Trapp

Georg von Trapp

She noticed that he had crossed out the three signatures before finally settling with the final one.

Captain von Trapp

Although she had felt a sense of dread and embarrassment as a result of their argument earlier that night, she now relished in the feeling of the wonder of how it felt to be in such intense love with him that she pressed the letter tightly against her chest and allowed herself to let out a deep, contented sigh. She let her eyes scan over the words again, and furrowed her brow in at certain points. On the one hand, he had started by thanking her, like any employer would. However, she couldn't quite shake the formality he used, even when he was describing how he felt about her. The way he had been talking on the night he gave her the letter led her to believe - for some reason, and perhaps rather naively - that he would confess his love for her. In fact, she was now left with even more questions than she had before.

The events of the night had caught up with her, she reasoned as she continued to ponder. She would have to catch him alone - a rarity in any case - and ask him openly and honestly when she had the opportunity. It would have to wait until morning.

It seemed that sleep must have claimed her rather quickly, as the light from the morning rays broke her out of her slumber. On any other day, she found herself rather rudely being jolted awake with a start, caused by the irksome noise of her alarm clock. She attempted to roll over when she noticed that it was barely after five-o'clock in the morning, but she knew that she would be unable to fall asleep again. Reluctantly, she rolled out of bed to take a shower and prepare for the day.

As she let the warm water run over her body, she thought back to the events of the previous night and had to admit that she felt better having slept on it. Hede had told her that she would eventually be able to navigate her way through social events as though it were second nature. However, she realised that Lady Richter wasn't actually the problem, but that was her own thoughts that had led to her argument with Georg. After all, if she herself didn't believe that she was a suitable wife for Georg, then how could she expect any of his peers to believe it?

She sighed as she turned the water off before quickly drying herself and uncoincidentally throwing on her blue dress. She stood in the centre of her room for a moment or two, unsure of how she would fill her time. It was still too early to wake the children. Should she go for a walk? Make herself a drink? Franz would surely be awake by now, maybe even Georg?

Deciding that this could be her only opportunity to capture him alone, she made her way downstairs until she reached his study. She noticed that the door was ajar, signalling that he was indeed awake. She slowed her steps as she approached the door, and noticed that he was sat at his desk, deep in concentration. She tapped lightly on the door, causing him to raise his head to her.

"Maria! To what do I owe this pleasure... And at such an early time too? Since when did you wake with dawn?" he teased.

She gave him a wide smile and leaned against the door frame, unsure of exactly what it was that she wanted to say. "I-uh… Thank you… For suggesting I read it, I mean." She waved the envelope beside her face.

He nodded tightly and gave her a small smile before returning his attention to the papers sprawled across his desk.

Neither of them could explain why, but the atmosphere around them rapidly became filled with thick, awkward tension as they both remained silent.

When it became apparent that Georg would not respond to her verbally, Maria spoke again. "When did you write it? The night of the party?"

"No. I think I wrote it a couple of days after you left. What makes you ask?"

"I don't know what I was expecting when I opened the envelope, but that wasn't quite it."

"What were you expecting, Maria? A love letter?" He rose an eyebrow at her. To be honest, he didn't even know what kind of letter it was. Love though? No, surely he was capable of writing a much better love letter than that.

She pursed her lips together, feeling slightly foolish at even thinking of writing a love letter to her, especially considering the circumstances at the time. "Like I said, I don't know what I was expecting. That being said, I was just wondering when you realised that you loved me. Was it the night you wrote this?"

He sighed and rose from his seat. "Honestly? No." He walked towards her and took the letter out of her hands, his eyes scanning over it as though he had never seen it before.

"But… You said that you were too late in realising your feelings for me." Despite her confusion, she couldn't help but smile, remembering how she had felt when reading his words.

He nodded again, took the letter from her hand, and quickly scanned over his own words. "That's true, but feelings… They're not the same. In fact, the way I felt about you at the time were not even a fraction of how I feel about you now." He handed the letter back to her hand and raised her free hand to gently kiss her knuckles.

"So, when exactly did you realise?" She pressed on, although she wasn't so sure why she was being so persistent on the subject. After all, it hardly mattered now.

"I don't think I truly admitted it to myself until you came back. Seeing you standing there surrounded by the children, I just…" He let out a heavy, yet contented sigh as though he was reliving that very moment. "I just… Knew."

She smiled before she bit down on her bottom lip, feeling the familiar blush creep into her cheeks.

Although it was unrelated to their current topic of conversation, she couldn't help but feel a nagging sensation in her mind. She was determined not to mention it after they had agreed not to discuss what had occurred the night before, but she knew she would constantly feel a sense of unease if she didn't allow herself to speak her mind.

"Georg, about last night. I-"

"I thought we agreed to forget about last night." He shot back with sharpness he hadn't quite intended.

"Yes, I know that Georg, but I need to get this off my chest."

He relaxed in his chair and gestured to the seat across his desk. "Very well. What is it you would like to say?"

She sat down gingerly and laced her fingers together on top of the mahogany surface. "Last night, I allowed myself to may have given you the impression that I was affected by someone else's words. I mean I was, but that made me think on how I felt about you. I know you said that we would forget about it and that our words had gotten away with us." To anyone else, she would have appeared poised and confident, but inside, she was shaking violently. "The problem now, is that I think I may have made you believe that I have lost trust in us, in you. I just wanted you to know that it isn't the case, not even for a second. You have told me countless times that our relationship is unconventional, but you have also told me that I needn't worry about what anyone else thought about us..." She trailed off. She knew what she wanted to say, but - and it was on the rarest of occasions - her mouth was furiously trying to stop the words coming from her mouth. "It's my own thoughts about us that makes me think that I... That we..." she gestured between the two of them before she shyly lowered her head.

"Maria?" He breathed. Although he could tell that she was trying to hide her face from him, it didn't stop him from noticing the forlorn expression on her face. "Do you still not think you're worthy of me?"

She shrugged and shook her head slightly. "I don't know." she replied simply. "It's just that you seem to know exactly what you're doing, yet I'm still unsure. I just want to know that I will enough to be able to... Satisfy you."

He choked on his coffee despite himself as he sipped on it. "Maria, you really have no idea what effect you have on me. Believe me, you are more than capable of satisfying me. In fact, by the time we're on our honeymoon, I'm sure these thoughts you have will have disappeared completely." He covered her hands with his, causing her to raise her head again. He gave her a warm smile, a promise of what was to come.

His affirmation caused her to return that very same smile. "That brings me nicely on to something else I wanted to talk to you about…" She trailed off slightly. "It's about the wedding, you see." The mere mention of their upcoming nuptials made her heart swell with happiness.

"You're not about to cancel on me, are you?" He teased, raising a single eyebrow.

She shot him her widest smile. "Not just yet, no" she teased back. "It's actually about the date."

"Oh, do you want to postpone it?"

"What? No, no, no. Quite the opposite actually. It's just… February seems like an unusual time to get married. That led me to think about the honeymoon…"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He willed himself to believe that whatever she was about to say would be said with the utmost innocence – no matter how much he would love to hear her speak about what they would get up to once they reached their honeymoon destination. "I suppose, but we agreed that February would be enough time to dispel any notion one may have about the nature of our relationship."

She nodded firmly. "That's true. To be honest though, I was just wondering, how cold do you think Paris will February?"

"Oh." He furrowed his brow and shrugged; her unexpected question had thrown him off a little. "I suppose it won't be the warmest of climates, but the city is truly picturesque when the snow falls. Besides, it's a lot quieter than the summer. It will feel like we have the whole of Paris to ourselves." He gave her a tender smile, the thought of her finally becoming his wife and mother to his children caused a flood of pure, unadulterated pleasure to course through his body.

The way they looked at each other confirmed that their argument last night was nothing more than a blip on the radar, and both of their bodies radiated with a glow when they thought of their married life together.

She smiled back at him. "At least we'll be able to rely on each other to keep ourselves warm."

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest; the unintended connotations of her words were not lost on him. "Oh, I'm sure we will. Never fear about the cold though Maria, I'm sure there will be many opportunities for us to keep each other warm. So much so, that I am certain we will forget all about the cold."

To be continued.

Snowfall is apparently quite rare in February, but last time I visited Paris, it was Feb time and the snow made Paris' landscape look stunning, so I thought I'd use it in this chapter.

Here is a little fun fact for you. One of the first things I wrote when I initially started this story was Georg's letter to Maria after she left. I wrote it on a piece of paper and tried to put myself in Georg's shoes. So, you were supposed see that there were parts of the letter that were crossed out and re-written as it was never meant to be sent or seen. Unfortunately, it took me forever to rewrite as FF doesn't allow for strikethroughs. Hopefully it still conveys as being quite authentic, so I'm curious as to how you will feel when you read it. Do let me know!

Until next time, stay safe and well (more now than ever), and I pray for peace in Ukraine at this awful time.

Charlotte