"Maria?"
Georg's gentle voice roused her from her thoughts, and with a sigh, she leaned back farther into his arms, lowering her blue gaze languidly from the sky to the peacefully rippling waters of the lake near the gazebo. "Hmmm?" she replied, albeit a trifle absently.
"What were you dreaming of?" he teased, stroking a hand through her hair lightly.
Maria exhaled slowly, finally lifting her eyes to his, a small smile gracing her visage. "Well, I was - I was thinking about how wonderful it all is, " she admitted, dropping her lashes slightly in a futile attempt to hide the soft tinges of rose that began to spread subtly over her cheeks.
The Captain returned her smile, though his was tinged with amusement at her reaction. "Oh? How wonderful what all is?" he inquired, feigning nonchalance.
"Everything, " she answered, a grin fleeting quickly over her countenance, skipping as merrily over the upturned corners of her mouth as a stone splashing cheerfully into a brook.
The couple fell silent, each preferring to cherish the other's company in the lazy, languid sunshine that caused the walls of the gazebo to shimmer and absorb the gentle warmth that just brushed against Maria's and Georg's skin. An idle moment was exceedingly welcome to them both; the past week had been chock-full of wedding plans: dresses, flowers, guests, the cake, and of course, the matter of their honeymoon. Georg had offered to take her anywhere in the world she had wanted to go, and the concept was staggering. Suddenly, the world seemed to wait beyond her backdoor. She could go anywhere - absolutely anywhere - and see anything that she desired to see. In the end, however, she finally settled on France. It seemed to be the ideal place. It was romantic, beautiful, and full of a rich culture. Or so she had always read.
"Captain? Fraulein?"
Maria had to force herself to blink in an attempt to shake away the brief mental stupor that had settled upon her as she reluctantly shifted a bit in her fiance's arms, glancing toward the kindly, far-from-unwelcome sight of Frau Schmidt. "Frau Schmidt?"
"This had better be important, " Georg admonished with mock-annoyance. His smile betrayed him.
"Oh, but it is, Captain, " the housekeeper assured him. "Your dress is ready for a final fitting, Maria, " she informed the young woman with a smile.
Inhaling quickly, Maria instantly sat up a bit straighter and stared at the older woman for a few moments. "It is?" she smiled, pleased. "That's wonderful. I thought he wouldn't be done with the adjustments until next week."
"Herr Webermann works quickly, " the Baron reminded her with an amused chuckle. "And if he's ready for a final fitting, you'd best take a trip into Salzburg and not keep him waiting for too long. I know how punctual you are, my dear." A laugh reverberated from deep within his chest at Maria's indignant expression. "Oh, and if Liesl accompanies you - remind her that I still won't permit her to buy those shoes she keeps wistfully speaking of."
"I'll do my best, " Maria responded with a furtive grin. The heels of the aforementioned shoes were rather high in comparison to the sort of shoes that the girl usually wore; she suspected that Liesl had probably seen them in some sort of magazine and wanted to wear them to the wedding reception, instead of the low-heeled, yet still elegant shoes that Herr Webermann had included with the bridesmaid's dress. Slowly propelling herself to her feet, the young woman began the stroll up toward the villa, unable to escape the affectionate peck the Captain dropped onto her cheek.
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"Oh, Fraulein, that dress is simply gorgeous on you, " Liesl breathed, reverently pulling the zipper up to the top of the gown.
Maria flushed the tiniest bit, studying her own reflection in the full-length mirror incredulously. Somehow, Herr Webermann had worked wonders with a seemingly ordinary design. There had been nothing elaborate in the original sketches he had shown her, nor did the freshly-cut pattern display anything even remotely resembling brilliance. But this - this final product, perfectly adjusted to fit her, the wife-to-be of Captain von Trapp - was simply stunning. The fabric was the purest shade of white she could ever recall seeing on a dress, and clung lightly to her figure, enough to subtly accentuate her feminity, but not overly so. Besides being comfortable, the bodice perfectly melded with the long sleeves that ensconced her arms, and the full skirt draped behind her in an elegant train, gracefully sweeping against the floor as she slowly turned this way and that to admire the tailor's work. He had managed to convey a sparkling sense of joy, intermixed with purity and innocence in that piece. It was simple, on the hanger. On Maria, it was simply exquisite.
"You like it, Fraulein, " Webermann stated quietly, as he stepped through the curtain to survey his final product critically. It wasn't a doubtful, uncertain question.
"I ... oh, Herr Webermann, it's the loveliest dress I've ever seen or wore, " Maria admitted, her blush deepening as she dropped her gaze from the mirror. "Thank you."
"You're quite welcome. I wish you and the Baron the very best, " he replied with a polite half-bow, before retreating into the confines of his shop.
"Father may faint when he sees you in this, " Liesl remarked teasingly as she helped her governess out of the dress.
A sigh escaped Maria's lips, and then she laughed. "Liesl, I felt as though I were going to faint when I first put it on. It's almost too beautiful to wear, even if it is for my wedding."
After thanking Herr Webermann again, the women exited his shop, pausing on the way home so that Liesl could stare longingly through a shop window at the shoes she so desired.
"Aren't they the most beautiful shoes you've ever seen, Fraulein?" she sighed.
Maria had to work hard to suppress her smile. "Well, they are very lovely, Liesl, but I doubt that your father wants to see you wearing heels that are almost three inches tall. But perhaps if you ask for a pair for Christmas - or your birthday ... "
Consoled by that lingering hope, the girl turned her steps toward home more willingly, oblivious of Maria's slightly wistful expression.
She, too, had once wanted shoes with heels, although certainly nothing like the heels that Liesl wanted. It was a fleeting desire, one that lasted for only a day, but the memory, hidden in the dusty recesses of her mind, was stirred forth by Liesl's subtle hints about those shoes. The ghost of a smile tinged her lips as they arrived at number fifty-three at last, and managed to slip inside of the villa just in time for dinner.