The thought he should be in the dining room with the children nagged away like the ticking minutes. Knowing they'd be upset and worried by Maria's absence, he tried to blink away their faces. He knew those looks so well. They were what looked back at him whenever he announced he'd be leaving on another trip; they'd be there to greet him when he was called back early if one of the children fell ill or after the resignation of another hopeless governess. Oh yes, he dreaded the hurt, disappointment, confusion, neglect in their eyes.
Still, he couldn't find it in his heart to blame her for any of this. It was his fault she'd fled. His fault for getting too close, his fault for assuming she felt something for him.
He should be home, gathering the children around, explaining what had become of their beloved Fraulein Maria – easy to say, when he had no idea himself – offering comfort and soothing words. It was what she'd be doing at a time like this. But none of that came easy to him.
For the children's sake, he had to bring her home.
Which is why he hadn't turned into the driveway. It had been much easier to just keep driving past the gates, convincing himself his time was better spent out on the road searching for Maria, rather than fumbling for an explanation in front of the children. Ignoring what the farmer had told him, he'd been slowly making his way along the road beyond home.
Away from the lake, as the road climbed gently over low hills, the fog seemed to be clearing. The sun was poking holes through the fluffy, white cloud, creating odd-looking pockets of sunshine like enormous spotlights. Heading in the opposite direction, away from town, was a long shot. But it bought him some time. Still, something kept telling him it was a waste of valuable time – damn that nagging voice in the back of his head
Having honed his skills of denial and avoidance over the past four years, he was using both to their full potential. He should check the time on his wristwatch, but if he did that, he couldn't pretend it was earlier than what it actually was.
Back home, breakfast must surely be coming to an end. Surely, with Max's help, Aggie and John could handle the children for a little longer. The farmer had been right about the road being deserted. He hadn't seen a soul since watching the back of the cart disappear into the fog many miles behind him. It seemed hours ago now. A few more miles, and he'd turn around.
Easing the car around a bend that swept up the side of a gentle hill, he was happy to see most of the low cloud had lifted, burnt up by the warmth of the sun. He pressed his foot a little harder on the accelerator, taking the opportunity to cover some more ground.
A few more miles, he promised himself, and then he'd turn for home…
oOo
"None of this makes any sense…" Brigitta whispered as much to herself as her older sisters, who trudged along the hallway either side of her. Sent upstairs to collect their coats, they'd deliberately fallen behind the rest of their brothers and sisters. The disappearance of Father and Fraulein Maria overnight needed a proper discussion, but instead, they'd have to settle for a quick review of the latest developments on their way upstairs. "It makes no sense, at all…"
"I just wish they wouldn't treat us like children," Louisa added glumly. The shock of no Father at breakfast triggered awful memories, and no Fraulein Maria was just a horrible reminder of what life would be like at the end of summer.
"You must have noticed something, Liesl," Brigitta turned to her eldest sister who had been unusually quiet. "Something? Anything…"
"I told you everything last night… And before you ask, I'm sure I didn't miss anything," Liesl answered, her concern turning to annoyance at the suggestion she hadn't kept a close enough eye on Father and Fraulein Maria. "Nothing happened at the opera," in her mind, she started ticking her way through the evening again. "Afterwards, at the party, I spent most of the time talking to Ingrid. But I made sure to keep an eye on Father and Fraulein Maria. Like I said, they mostly kept to themselves in the corner of the room. I only saw them talk to a military-looking man and some flashy woman."
"It must have something to do with the woman," Brigitta decided.
"What did she look like?" Louisa asked
"A lot like Baroness Schraeder, except she had dark hair."
Both Louisa and Brigitta groaned at the mention of Baroness Schraeder.
"I wish we knew who she was," Louisa muttered under her breath, in her mind ruling out the sudden turn of events having anything to do with the military man. Father hardly talked to anyone but military men. She'd never liked Baroness Schraeder, and she certainly didn't trust any of those fake women. "Did Father know the woman?"
Liesl paused to think for a minute. "I really don't think she's important. They barely spoke to her. No more than a minute. You know how Father gets annoyed when he has to chat to people?" Both sisters nodded in reply. "From where I was sitting, I think Fraulein Maria was feeling a little overwhelmed, and Father just wanted to move on the military man and the woman."
"Perhaps he just wanted to spend time alone with Fraulein Maria," Brigitta suggested optimistically.
"They did seem to be having a good time on their own," Liesl agreed.
"How were they on the drive home?" Louisa asked, a little prickly after Liesl had been so quick to dismiss the Baroness Schraeder look-alike.
Liesl stopped to think for a moment. "Quiet…" Although, she had noticed Father kept looking in the rear-view mirror.
"If nothing happened at the party," Brigitta's mind was racing ahead, "it must have been afterwards, when you got home."
"But when…?" Louisa was starting to wonder if they were ever going to get to the bottom of things.
"Nothing happened after we got home… we were all so tired," Liesl was struggling under her sisters' constant questions. They'd been over all of this last night. Well, not quite everything. She hadn't told them the things she'd overhead the ladies saying at the party. Terrible gossip about why Baroness Schraeder had left so suddenly, and how something had been going on between Father and Fraulein Maria – an affair, a scandal that would reveal itself in the fulness of time. She'd only caught bits and pieces of what was being said, but it was obvious from the sniggering and the tone of their whispering, it was cruel and hurtful.
Of course, it was just silly rumours. As much as Father liked Fraulein Maria – and it was obvious he did – and as much as they'd all dreamed of Fraulein Maria being their mother, it was never going to happen. Sadly, their governess had her heart set on becoming a nun, and neither them nor Father fitted into that world. It was sad, but true. By the time school started, Fraulein Maria would have left their lives forever…
"Are we sure Father likes her?" Louisa's question broke the silence as they turned off the main hall towards their rooms.
"Of course, he does," Brigitta rolled her eyes. She'd been watching them closely, ever since Father returned from Vienna, and he always seemed much more interested in Fraulein Maria than that horrible Baroness Schraeder.
"I'm sure it's nothing. It might be just as Gromi says," Liesl sounded unconvinced as she stopped at her bedroom door. "Perhaps, Father has taken Fraulein Maria into town to visit the sisters at the Abbey."
"Hmpf!" Louisa huffed over her shoulder in disbelief. Why the sudden rush to visit after all these weeks?
Watching her sisters continue on to their bedroom further down the hallway, Liesl sighed with relief. They were right. None of this made any sense. She'd grab her coat and hurry back downstairs to speak to Gromi alone.
Surely, last night's rumours were just nasty gossip, but she couldn't get them out of her head…
oOo
Bless me Father, for I have sinned,
It's been so long since my last confession…
Waiting for a response she knew would never come, Maria ran her nails up and down her forearm. She'd forgotten how itchy this grey dress was, especially under the close-fitting jacket, pressing the coarse fabric even tighter against her skin. Its material couldn't have been more different to the soft silk and organza of her blue dress. Closing her eyes, the threat of tears still hadn't gone away. She had to stop thinking about last night. It would take time before all traces of last night were erased from her mind, but she wished her thoughts wouldn't keep circling back there.
Her fingers played nervously at the beads of the Rosary. The poor might not have wanted this dress, but for now, it was all she had. Shifting uneasily on the bench seat, the stone had begun feeling uncomfortable long ago. The coarseness of the material wasn't the only reason she was scratching at her arm. As she waited, the minutes dragging by in slow motion, what was to come filled her with anxiety and dread.
These are my sins…
She'd been practicing, running through the Confession in her mind, trying to line up all her shortcomings, big and small, over the summer. Her biggest sin used to be spending the afternoon in the mountains signing. She sighed. Where to begin? Over the past weeks, there'd been so many, she'd lost count ages ago. Lifting a hand, she scratched along her collarbone, the neckline of the dress scraping against her skin.
Firstly, she'd wilfully disobeyed the Captain's rules – it was wrong, no matter how ridiculous his rules might have been. They were his rules and she'd ignored them, openly defied them, and as he'd pointed out, he was their father. Although, these past weeks, he seemed to have forgotten most of the rules himself, so perhaps she wouldn't have to mention this one. She sighed, wondering if she'd ever be able to follow rules. Sister Berthe was probably right…
Secondly, she'd had that terrible argument with the Captain down by the lake – she'd been rude, raised her voice, thrown cruel, horrible accusations at him. She may have been defending the children and had the very best intentions, but in those moments on the landing, she'd hardly set a good example for them. The Captain may have forgiven her, but it was still wrong. It was true. Speaking her mind, was one of her worst faults.
Thirdly, she'd lied about this dress. When the Captain returned from Vienna, he'd asked if she'd thrown out the grey sack she'd arrived in. She'd hadn't, but she'd told him she had. Surely, it was only a little, white lie. She'd kept the dress in the back of her armoire to remind herself where she'd come from, and where she'd be going back to. Hanging it amongst her new outfits with their beautiful materials, was supposed to remind her every morning and night, to stop her silly dreams. She'd be returning to the Abbey at the end of summer, no matter how much she longed to be part of the von Trapp family.
And that was her fourth sin. She'd coveted becoming a permanent part of the von Trapp household. Since she'd arrived, she'd wanted to be part of the family. Up until then, the Abbey had been her home and the sisters her family. Growing to love the children so quickly made her wish their summer together would go on forever. Never before had anyone needed her, loved her unconditionally just for being her, and over the summer, she'd had seven beautiful children who did just that.
Her heart tightened at the thought of the children. She hoped they could forgive her for leaving so suddenly, without a proper goodbye. She'd been dreading the end of the summer and having to leave them. They deserved better than a hastily written note.
And then, there was their father. By far her greatest sin of all. Sent to be governess to his children, she'd followed the Reverend Mother's instructions and waited patiently for God to reveal His will. At first, she'd thought it was preparing the children for their new mother. She sighed. That didn't work out how anyone expected. Then it seemed, His will had been to bring the Captain closer to the children. She hung her head lower. It certainly had nothing to do with lusting after the Captain and seducing him. Blushing furiously, she hurriedly blessed herself with the Sign of the Cross. She hadn't meant for any of that to happen.
Oh, but he was impossible to resist. Even when he'd been impatient, angry, sarcastic, there was something that kept drawing her in. It was there when they first met in the foyer – actually, they'd first met in the ballroom – and it made her want to get closer and find out more. That look in his eyes that made her feel like she would burst into flames, the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth like he was holding onto a secret he found amusing, his warm baritone that wrapped its way around you, always hoping he would talk to her for hours on end… and those kisses…
As long as there was still breath in her body, she'd never forget those kisses…
Reverend Mother's words forced their way through her guilty thoughts, like they often had this summer.
If you go out into the world for a time, knowing what we expect of you, you will have a chance to find out if you can expect it of yourself.
Since she was a small girl and heard the sisters singing on their way to Vespers, their voices drifting over the Abbey wall, there'd never been a doubt in her mind. That was the life she was born to live. It wasn't until the Captain and his adorable children wound themselves around her heart that she'd imagined anything different. Looking up from the Rosary Beads, she tried to ignore the tightening in her chest.
What were the children were doing? They should have finished breakfast by now. It should be another gorgeous day, perfect for spending precious time with their father and grandparents. She tried to ignore the pang of anguish, the overwhelming desire to be back at the villa, joining in their fun.
Sometime during the day, they might even stop to wonder about her. She hoped they'd look back fondly on their summer together. Hopefully, they'd realise she'd always be thinking of them, stopping to wonder what they might be doing, where they might be. She would cherish every moment they shared…
Her fingers toyed with the Crucifix. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head. She paused for a moment or two, trying to forget the children, the Whiteheads, the Captain…
oOo
Liesl pushed her hands through the sleeves of her jacket. Stepping off the bottom step of the staircase, she came to a sudden stop. Her eyes flickered impatiently around the foyer. She didn't have much time.
Where was Gromi?
They'd been ushered out of the dining room soon after Uncle Max had arrived for breakfast, so she'd missed her chance to stay back and speak to her grandmother alone. It was obvious Louisa and Brigitta weren't going to give her a moment's peace, so there was only one thing left to do – confront Gromi head on.
Walking softly towards the drawing room, she could hear hushed voices.
Uncle Max and Gromi...
Stepping silently through the doorway from the foyer, the drawing room was empty, so they must still be in the dining room. She passed by the settees, her eyes finding Uncle Max and Gromi through the doorway. Sitting on opposite sides of the table, they had leaned into each other and were talking softly. From their tone, it was obviously something serious.
Was it Fraulein Maria, or Father? Maybe it was both…
"…our driver could take you to Nonn…" Countess Whitehead looked up from the table. "Oh, Liesl…" she straightened up in her chair, "I didn't see you there…"
Liesl looked from one side of the table to the other, noticing the guilty looks being shared over what remained of breakfast. "Gromi, can I have a word?" she glanced apologetically at Uncle Max.
"Well, you're in luck, young lady," placing both palms on the table, Max pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. "I've just finished, and there's an important telephone call that can't wait."
Liesl gave her uncle a grateful smile. But then, he wasn't really her uncle, was he. Not that it mattered. Since Mamma's passing, especially during those early years, none of them could have got through without Uncle Max. Especially, Father…
"Take a seat, Liesl," Countess Whitehead patted the table beside her. She waited for her granddaughter to drop onto the edge of the chair.
"Gromi, where are Father and Fraulein Maria?" Liesl whispered, resting an elbow on the table, she turned to her grandmother.
"Liesl, it's as I told you earlier…"
"Don't try to dismiss me," she gave her grandmother a stern look. "I might be a schoolgirl, but I do know a little about these things," she could feel her cheeks growing warm, recalling the kiss she'd shared with Rolfe in the gazebo all those weeks ago. She leaned in closer to her grandmother and lowered her voice, "I heard what those women were saying about Father and Fraulein Maria."
"Oh, Liesl," Countess Whitehead took her granddaughter's hand, "I learned many years ago, not to pay any attention to idle gossip. Not only is it a waste of time…"
"But…"
"No buts," her firm words matched her serious look. "Believe me, those women are so bored with their own unhappy lives, they have nothing better to do, than make up the most outrageous lies about other people. How could they possibly know what's going on in your own home? They can't! We won't stoop to their level by gracing them with our precious time."
Liesl nodded slowly, a little reluctantly. Obviously, she wasn't going to get anywhere discussing last night's gossip with her grandmother. She'd have to try another tack. "But it just seems odd that Father and Fraulein Maria had to go to the Abbey so suddenly."
"I wish I could tell you more, but I know as much as you do, sweetheart. Try not to worry, I'm sure everything will be fine," Countess Whitehead let go of her granddaughter's hand. "Now, I can hear your brothers and sisters out in the foyer. Why don't you go join your grandfather?"
Giving her grandmother a faint smile, she pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. "I'll try not to worry, Gromi," she leaned down and kissed her grandmother's cheek.
Countess Whitehead's eyes followed her granddaughter as she walked slowly towards the doorway. "Liesl…" she called out.
"Yes, Gromi…" Liesl stopped and turned.
"I do know one thing for sure," Countess Whitehead's features softened with a smile. "Both your father and Fraulein Maria love you children so much…"
oOo
He rubbed his eyes. Dry and stinging, they were heavy from a night of no sleep. Still, sleep was the last thing on his mind. Climbing into the low foothills, lush fields stretched out on the low side of the road, while thickets of fir trees swept from the roadside towards the hill tops. He promised himself, this would be the last bend in the road. He'd round it, recover from the disappointment of her not appearing, just like she hadn't around all of the other bends, and be forced to face reality, and give up. It would be time to front the children. And Aggie.
He hadn't told Aggie everything last night. In fact, he'd hardly told her anything. Thankfully, there hadn't been time. Where to begin? He could hardly tell Agathe's mother one of Elsa's friends had caught him kissing the children's governess out on the terrace last night.
God, he'd made such a mess of things.
The fog had all but cleared, leaving behind that strange misty air that swirled mysteriously above the ground, waiting for the sun to lift a little higher before it finally evaporated without a trace. Tapping the steering wheel with his forefinger, he pulled back off the accelerator and eased the car into the sweeping bend.
As the road straightened ahead of him, he narrowed his eyes, squinting into the distance.
What in God's name?
He must be seeing things. A hand left the steering wheel to rub his dry eyes. It was still there. In the distance, an odd shape on one of the benches dotted along the road. From this far away, it was impossible to tell if it was a person or a bundle of clothes or something else left behind.
His foot found the brake, slowing the car, and easing into a lower gear. The last thing he wanted was to scare off whoever it might be and send them scarpering into the woods. That's if it was somebody. But whoever it was, they might have seen Maria – they might hold the only clue to her whereabouts. The car was inching forward slowly, reducing the distance between him and the stranger. He cursed the sun. If he wasn't driving into the sun, he might be able to make them out. But then, if the sun hadn't made an appearance, he'd still be driving bling in thick fog.
The car continued to roll along the road, there must be fewer than a hundred yards between them now. Despite having half the night to prepare for this moment, he hadn't given any thought to how he might explain his outfit at this hour of the morning, let alone an explanation for searching the countryside for his governess. But he didn't care. He'd figure that out later. Well, sooner rather than later…
Pressing the brake to the floor, he brought the car to a stop. He turned off the engine, and in one swift motion, was out of the car, swinging the door behind him. Cursing its loud clunk, he was sure the shape in the distance moved. They must have heard the car and lifted their head.
Stepping along the edge of the road, he narrowed his eyes, squinting in the bright sunshine.
Good God, it can't be… can it?
His feet started moving faster along the gravel road, the distance between them now no more than fifty yards. He wanted to run, wanted to call out, but he could barely breathe. He was struggling to think.
She was standing now. His mouth was dry. He could see her lift a hand – shielding her eyes from the sun, perhaps. He knew that ridiculous hat served no purpose, practical or otherwise. God, hadn't she got rid of the damn thing? His strides lengthened, reducing the distance. Forty yards, now less than thirty… His breathing was coming harder, faster. Big gulps of air, trying to fill his lungs. From exertion or excitement, perhaps both, he wasn't sure. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Except her.
Twenty yards, now ten…
His strides shortened, slowing to a walk.
"Captain…"
He stopped. Five yards stretched out between them. The closest they'd been in hours, but still too far away.
He stared at her. She looked tired, worried. The fingers on his left hand began to move, burning to touch her, to take away all her doubts. Now that he'd caught his breath, he noticed, besides the ridiculous hat, she was wearing that hideous grey dress. But he couldn't care less. His eyes flickered down, drawn by the movement of her hand. Rosary Beads quickly stuffed into a pocket. He needed to say something, but words were too hard to find. Placing them into a sentence, impossible. All he could do was smile.
He'd found her! Thank God, he'd finally found her!
He promised himself then and there, he'd never let her go again.
Maria's eyes dropped from his, running down his body. She frowned. He was still wearing his formal suit from last night, the Maria Theresa medal still sitting proudly at the base of his neck. Her eyes travelled back up his body, lingering on his lips, that smile – oh, those kisses, she'd never forget those kisses – and finally, shifting to his clear blue eyes.
"You haven't changed…" she whispered, frowning at him.
"I see you have!" He glared at the grey dress. "I thought we'd agreed to get rid of that thing…"
She could feel her cheeks growing warm. He'd remembered their conversation from weeks ago.
Staring at each other, trying to feel their way, he tightened his fingers into a fist. She was chewing at her bottom lip. God, he wanted to kiss her...
"You followed me…"
It was less of a question, more of a statement that hung in the air between them. Forcing his feet to stay still, the uncertainty and disbelief behind those three simple words saddened him more than anything he'd heard in a long time.
"Of course, I did…" he cringed, his words sounding sharper than he'd intended. Did she think he'd just let her go? "I've been out all night, searching." He watched her lips part – a silent, instinctive show of surprise.
"I didn't mean to cause any trouble."
"Trouble…? You've been nothing but trouble since you arrived," his tone was soft and playful. She was blushing, and was that a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "What are you doing here…?" The question was out before he could stop it, before he had time to wonder if he was ready for her answer.
"I'm waiting for the bus," she announced with a frown. Wasn't it obvious?
"I realise you're waiting for the bus…" Of course, it was obvious, but it told him nothing. "But where are you going?"
She stared back at him. Returning to the Abbey seemed as out of the question to the Captain as it did to her. "Well, I thought I might…" her words drifted off. She still hadn't come up with a plan. "I thought I might go to…
"You can't go to the Abbey," he cut her off, not waiting for her to finish. There! He'd made his thoughts clear.
"I can't?" Maria frowned again, wondering what gave the Captain the right to tell her what she could or couldn't do. She was no longer his governess. "Of course, I can go back to the Abbey…" she added defiantly.
"You don't belong there."
"What do you mean, I don't belong there?" Maria snapped at him, trying to ignore the fact she didn't belong anywhere.
"You being at the Abbey is a ridiculous idea," he shifted his feet a little, stirring up the soft gravel on the edge of the road.
"Well, I'm sorry you find me so ridiculous, Captain!"
"That's not what I said…"
"It's what you meant!"
"It's not what I meant, and you know it." God, why were they arguing?
"Captain, you have no…"
"Maria…" cutting off the protests, her name rolled gently off his tongue as he said it out loud, on its own, for the first time.
She stared back at him, eyes wide. He'd called her Maria…
"Maria, come home," his voice was soft and tender. "Please…"
"Home…?"
"You don't belong at the Abbey," he took a step towards her, and then another. "You belong at home, with me and the children."
"With you and the children…?" Didn't he realise, she couldn't continue as the governess. Not after last night… Drawn to the dark shadow of growth on his jawline, her thoughts stopped.
"Everything was wrong before you arrived, it will be all wrong again if you leave," he no longer pictured their world without her.
"But I'm supposed to leave at the end of summer," she whispered, reminding him of the agreement with the Reverend Mother.
"Not like this," he took half a step closer to her.
"It's only a few weeks earlier than planned..."
His heart tightened at talk of leaving. He took a step closer, and then another. There was less than a yard between them now. Didn't she know how much they needed her? He dropped his head a little to one side. "I want you to stay, Maria…" his voice sounded choked, repeating the same words from that day they'd argued, when she'd looked down at him from the stairs, dripping wet and looking adorable. But so much had happened since then.
"I have to leave," she stared back at him, her arms tightening around her waist. Why couldn't he just let her go? "I can't be the governess… not now…" her cheeks were growing warm.
"I don't want you to be the children's governess," he frowned. Didn't she understand what he was saying?
"But…" her words drifted off into thin air as he took another step closer.
"I don't want you to be the children's governess, I want you to be their mother…"
"Their mother…?"
He watched her blue eyes searched his from underneath the brim of that horrible hat. God, she was beautiful! He'd always thought she was beautiful.
"Marry me, Maria," he reached out for her hand. She stared down at his outstretched hand, eyes wide. He hadn't pictured proposing to her like this. Him dressed in his tailcoat, her dressed in that awful grey sack, standing on a road in the middle of nowhere. He'd dreamed of something far more romantic – moonlight, a stroll through the grounds, declarations of love in the gazebo.
"Marry you…?"
Had she heard right?
"Maria…"
At the sound of her name, Maria lifted her eyes up from his hand. This must be a dream…
"I love you, Maria…" he whispered. His heart leapt as he felt her cool fingers wrap around his. Smiling, he gently pulled her to him, his arms finding their way around her as she fell against his body. He lifted his eyes, giving the leather hat perched on her head a disapproving look. "Let's get rid of this old thing…" he whispered, lifting her hat by the brim and tossing it somewhere on the ground. "I wanted to tell you last night," he whispered against her ear as she buried herself against his chest. He smiled, feeling her grip tightened on his arms. "But then, we were rudely interrupted…"
Closing her eyes, she breathed in the familiar, musky scent of the Captain. He loved her! She was sure her heart was going to burst.
"I thought I'd lost you forever," he sighed, resting his cheek against her hair.
"I never imagined you'd come looking for me," Maria whispered against his chest.
"It's all I've been doing since last night," he ran his fingers through her hair. "I couldn't stop until I found you…"
Reluctantly, Maria pushed herself away from him and stared into his eyes. They looked different. He looked different. She still wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly. The Captain wanted to marry her? There must be some mistake. He loved her…
He wondered what she was thinking. Perhaps one day, he'd learn to read that enchanting mind of hers. But that could wait. God knows, they'd waited long enough. A hand, resting loosely on her waist, reached up and cupped her cheek. He bent down, tenderly catching her lips in his. It was only supposed to be a gentle kiss, perhaps it was, at first…
But all his good intentions quickly evaporated, as soon as her sweet scent filled his head – flowers, sunshine, a field of daisies. And then, much to his delight, she responded. As her mouth opened against his, he growled his approval. What in God's name happened to that gentle kiss? Her body pressed into his, memories flooding back from last night as they moulded perfectly together. His head was filled with her sighs. Their kisses – oh, those kisses – now desperate and hungry, were all he could think of. Somewhere in the middle of it all, her nails dug into his back. She was clinging to him, as if she'd never let go.
A hand was in his hair. Raking, pulling, tugging. "I love you…" he whispered into her mouth, but she swallowed his words with her frantic kisses. Was that him laughing? He wasn't sure, as he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her against him. His head was filled her sighs, her scent, her…
Honk! Honk!
Georg's head shot up from Maria. Clearing his throat, struggling to catch his breath, he turned to squint at a yellow bus parked on the opposite side of the road. God, how had that snuck up on them? Maria had taken a step away from him and was busying herself, straightening her dress. Running a hand through his fringe, he answered the driver's impatient look with a guilty one of his own.
"I haven't got all day, sir," the driver called out through the open side window. "Do either of you want to get on?"
Reaching up to tug on his ear, Georg was still trying to catch his breath. Eventually, he opened his mouth to call out…
"Not today, thank you!" Maria's sweet voice sounded a little breathless beside him.
He turned to Maria with a smile. She raised her brow at him in reply.
The bus driver answered with a shrug and turned his attention back to getting his handful of surprised passengers to town. With a grind of the gears, the bus rumbled off in a cloud of dust.
He turned towards Maria. She was chewing the side of her mouth, holding back a laugh.
"Shall we go home, Maria?"
Nodding, she turned to retrieve her guitar case.
Georg had already picked up the carpet bag, and had to admit he was surprised how lightly she was travelling. It couldn't have held more than one or two items. He reached down with his free hand to scoop up her leather hat by its brim. "I've a good mind to leave this damn thing behind…" he muttered under his breath.
"Oh, you can't do that!" Maria laughed as he squashed it under the arm that was carrying the carpet bag.
"Hmpf!" He held out his free hand, smiling at the feel of her fingers wrapping around his hand. Walking slowly along the edge of the road towards the car, there was so much to say, so many questions that needed answers. But for now, they were both happy to enjoy the comfortable silence.
"Did you spend the entire night here?" Georg finally asked.
"Oh no, that wouldn't have made any sense…" she glanced sideways and caught his frown, making her giggle. "I spent most of it in the little chapel just down the road," she added, motioning over her shoulder.
"Well, that makes perfect sense…" squeezing her hand, he smiled to himself.
oOo
"Come on children!" John Whitehead raised his voice, but realised he need not have bothered. The children were so quiet and sombre, there was barely a murmur amongst them. Gathered around him in the foyer, their heavy feet had stomped down the stairs after collecting jackets from their rooms.
"Where are we going, Poppa?" Gretl asked as she struggled with a button on her jacket.
"Well, I thought you could take me a on a tour of the grounds," he ruffled Kurt's hair as he noticed Liesl was missing.
"A tour of the grounds?" Marta screwed up her face in a frown. "What are we going to show you?"
"Well, you could start by introducing me to the orphaned cygnets you've adopted," he bent down and tapped his granddaughter's nose with a forefinger.
"We could show you our tree house!" Friedrich suggested. "And the tadpoles we scooped from the lake and put in the pond," he added, looking at Louisa's long face.
"We caught some fish, too," Kurt announced proudly, "but we let them go."
"Let them go?" John smiled over the children's heads as Liesl appeared from the drawing room.
"We couldn't put them in the pond," Brigitta explained. "Fraulein Maria said they'd eat the tadpoles."
Louisa's jaw tightened at the mention of Fraulein Maria. It wasn't fair. She'd only been gone a few hours, but already she could see how horrible things would be after the summer holidays. Who was going to make all the important decisions if she wasn't here? Father had taken them fishing but had left it up to Fraulein Maria to decide what they did with the fish they caught.
Where were Father and Fraulein Maria?
Despite the beautiful sunshine outside, Louisa decided the day was anything but beautiful…
oOo
"Almost home," he whispered, reaching over to take the hand that rested on the seat between them. She turned at his touch, the rush of wind coming through the open window, ruffling her hair. They shared a smile. Truth was, neither of them had stopped smiling. He watched her lift a hand to still her hair.
"When should we tell the children?"
"As soon as we get home, if you like," he let go of her hand and brushed his fingers down her cheek, before turning his attention back to the road.
"I love you… Georg…" faltering a little, she blushed.
His heart leapt, knowing he'd never tire hearing those words – or her whispering his name. If only he didn't have to concentrate on damn the road. But perhaps it was best. Resisting the temptation to turn to her, he'd let her use his name for the first time without making her feel like she was under a spotlight.
"But…"
His eyes shot around to face her, his heart missing a beat at the first hint of doubt.
"… do you mind if we wait before telling the children?"
"How long do you want to wait?" He was reaching for her hand again.
"Not long… just a day, maybe two," she squeezed his hand.
Braking, he shifted into a lower gear and turned through the gateway. "Everything alright, Maria?" He held his breath, waiting for her reply.
"So much has happened," she smiled at him, "I just need to catch my breath."
He exhaled – panic gone, relief flooding back.
Bringing the car to a stop alongside the front door, he turned off the ignition. Facing her, he reached up and tenderly brushed her hair back from her face.
She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Don't worry…" she whispered, "I won't be changing my mind."
"Well, I'm happy to hear that," he brought her hand to his mouth and left a lingering kiss on her knuckles. "But just so you know," he smiled at her over their clasped hands, "I won't let you."
Leaving her to giggle on her own, he opened the door and stepped out onto the gravel driveway. At the sound of the passenger door opening, he turned as she bobbed above the roof of the car. He rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you, Fraulein?" She started giggling all over again, but this time at his grumpiness. "You're supposed to wait in the car, and I'm supposed to open the door for you," he shook his head at her.
"Leave your bags, I'll get them later," he walked around to her side of the car. "Less to explain to the children," he arched a brow at her.
"Do you think we can sneak in without them noticing?" she asked as they crunched across the gravel to the front door.
"Hmmm… perhaps…" he wasn't so sure. "Hopefully, John has rounded them up and taken them on a jaunt outside."
Opening the front door, he stepped to the side, his eyes moving up and down as she passed through the door. He knew it the moment he lay eyes on her! Underneath that grey sack, lurked an alluring…
"Fraulein Maria?!"
"Father?!"
Cursing under his breath, Georg closed the door behind them. He stood stock still on the front door landing with Maria, their feet seemingly nailed to the floor. Meanwhile, the children rushed across the foyer, looking up at them from the bottom of the short flight of stairs. John appeared behind them, offering them both a jolly smile.
"Hallo, children!" Maria called down to them, her eyes drawn to movement in the distance. Countess Whitehead and Herr Detweiler.
Reaching between them, Georg's hand found her back. He ushered her down the steps toward the children.
"Where have you been?"
"Did you have to go without telling us?"
"Fraulein Maria, can you do up the button on my coat?"
"What did you do at the Abbey?"
"Alright, alright…" holding up his hands, Georg called out over the children, bringing their barrage of questions to an end. "We can't answer all of your questions at once. One at a time, please…"
Stepping forward, Brigitta looked from the governess to her father, then back again. "Fraulein Maria, why are you wearing that awful grey dress?" She then turned to her father with a frown. "And Father, why are you still wearing your fancy suit…?"
oOo
Thank you everyone for continuing to read my story!
I don't own TSOM, just having a lend.
"Immerse your soul in love"