"It is double the pleasure to deceive the deceiver" - (Niccolo Machiavelli)
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Chapter 7: Captain Machiavelli
Maria raced up the stairs as if the devil himself were at her heels, her heart pounding with anxiety and fear. She closed her bedroom door and leaned against it trembling. Had the Captain discovered her secret already? It had only been two days, and at the very least, he was suspicious that something was amiss.
Oh Maria, she rebuked herself what have you gotten yourself into? She could hear the echo of Sister Sophia's words speaking about her to the other Sisters:
"She always seems to be in trouble doesn't she?"
How true that was, Maria sighed.
Why didn't you think this through first, she asked herself crossly. You know you've always been terrible at deception.
But if the Captain had figured it out why hadn't he fired her? He surely would if he knew she had been deceiving him. Should she confess everything and throw herself at his mercy? She had almost blurted it out when he had been taunting her in his study. But then the thought of never seeing those beloved children again filled her with despair and she had held her tongue.
Her heart felt heavy with misery. She had wanted to give him a lesson in humility after what happened to poor Eliza, and instead she had learned one herself: don't be deceitful, even if you think you are doing it for a good reason.
She would have to be very careful she decided resolutely. Maybe she could avoid him as much as possible. But for two months? She put her hand to the top of her head in despair. Oh, what have you done you silly ninny?
She desperately didn't want to be fired. She had already grown to love those children and she could see they were blossoming. She felt enormously privileged that they had allowed her into their hearts. Beneath their usual hostility they were as hungry for love as she had been herself before she decided to dedicate her life to God. There was so much she wanted to do with them and to teach them before she returned to the Abbey to fulfil her destiny.
And she could tell the Captain was changing almost imperceptibly. Small chips of ice were slowly breaking off that stern, frozen façade and she wondered about the man that lay beneath. She had caught a glimpse of him as he watched his children making their presentations after their trip to the Untersberg. There had been pride, delight, astonishment and most definitely a hint of tender love as he had watched them.
But for the most part he still remained the remote, cold man she had met only days ago. She just needed more time to show him how wonderful his children were and how truly blessed he was to have them. Would she ruin all this if she were discovered? Would he revert back to the man he had been only two days ago: angry, detached and unemotional?
Apart from that she would also have the anguish of knowing she failed at the task God had given her. She cringed with shame at the thought of telling the Reverend Mother what she had done. She knew the ever-compassionate Reverend Mother would not be angry but she would be disappointed, and that was somehow far, far worse.
She prayed hard, asking for God's forgiveness for her behavior and asking if He could guide her footsteps to find a way out of this situation. Then she went to bed, tossing and turning before falling into a troubled sleep.
Her dreams were bizarre to say the least.
She dreamt that the Captain was a rude, bullying Languages/ Phonetics Professor constantly haranguing her to speak properly. He called her a draggle-tailed guttersnipe and a barbarous wretch and shouted "Learn your vowels!" over and over again. "You're an incarnate insult to the German language," he bellowed at her, while she shrieked back "Garrr, I'm a good girl I am!"
She felt a helpless rage that she could not use words like weapons the way he could, when he wounded her by roaring, "You have the divine gift of articulate speech, so stop this ghastly boo-hooing and learn to speak properly." All she could do was to poke her tongue out at him. When he wasn't hectoring her, he was stuffing marbles in her mouth which she promptly swallowed one by one. She could even feel herself swallowing them in her sleep.
Herr Detweiler was in the dream too and he was somehow different but he was as kindly as ever. He told her to call him the Colonel and he protected her from the Captain /Professor's bad behaviour, and he gallantly treated her like a Duchess.
Oddly, in the dream the Colonel/Herr Detweiler transformed into somebody else, someone she didn't know but who seemed to be a loveable wastrel with a twinkle in his eyes and roguish grin. Maria was laughing delightedly as Herr Detweiler pranced through the streets on his way to his wedding, singing a bawdy song in the same accent that Maria had been faking at the Captain's home.
"I'm getting married in the morning.
Ding, dong the bells are gonna chime.
Pull out the stopper, let's 'ave a whopper,
But get me to the church on time.
I gotta be there in the morning,
Spruced up and lookin' in me prime.
Girls come and kiss me, show how you'll miss me,
But get me to the church on time…"*
Then miraculously in her dream she had learned to speak the way the Professor/Captain wanted her to, and he took her to an Embassy Ball. She was dressed in an exquisite flowing gown - surely the most beautiful dress ever made - and she felt like a Princess, floating on a cloud of happiness. A prince asked her to waltz and they whirled around gracefully while everyone watched in awe, and wondered who she was.
But it was when the Professor/Captain came to claim her for a dance that she felt her heart fill with rapture. They danced all night but she still longed for more. The Professor/Captain held her blissfully in his arms and looked at her with the light of love in his eyes. She felt as if she were touching heaven, her heart aching with joy, until he suddenly turned cold and unfeeling again. She threw his slippers at him, weeping bitter tears of rage and unspeakable hurt.
Maria awoke with a start, disoriented by the surreal, anxiety-driven dream. She shook her head to rid herself of the confusing images but fragments of it remained with her. Despite the peculiarity of the dream there was a secret tingling warmth in her chest as she remembered the heavenly delight as the Professor/Captain held her as they danced together.
What would it be like to dance with the Captain she wondered dreamily, to be held in his strong arms, swirling around the room, with eyes only for each other? Good heavens, where had that terrible thought come from she wondered, aghast. Postulants don't dance and certainly not with handsome naval heroes. What was she thinking? she wondered crossly. Surely she had let God down enough already without developing a ridiculous schoolgirl crush on the Captain?
She got out of bed, feeling a bit sick at heart as she remembered the previous evening and the Captain's persistent probing about what she was hiding. He was already suspicious of her. She would not give him any more ammunition if she could just stay out of his way.
At all costs, she did not want to be parted from those beloved von Trapp youngsters.
Speaking of which, she needed to get them ready to visit the Mirabell Gardens. She felt the joy pushing through the despair at the thought of spending another day with them. She had singing lessons planned in the great outdoors knowing how much they loved it. Their progress and enthusiasm had been heartening.
Their trip to the Gardens was a salve to her battered spirits, and she was able to forget her self-made troubles for a while as they all sang their hearts out exuberantly. They danced around the fountains like irrepressible water sprites. While they did elicit perplexed glances from other visitors, their expressions were mostly of tolerant amusement rather than annoyance.
Over the next two weeks Maria studiously avoided the Captain. The few times he did see her, she was aware that he was watching her enigmatically and she always found a reason to leave the room, anxious and self-conscious.
Her days were kept busy with the children, with formal lessons in the morning and then an outing in the afternoon. She declined to have dinner with family and their guests again despite the pleas of the children. All in all she felt had been reasonably successful in keeping out of his way.
So much so, that she was completely unprepared when she literally bumped into him outside the drawing-room one day. It was the first time they had any physical contact at all and she felt the imprint of him burning all over body, making her shiver with shock.
He looked at with taunting amusement in his eyes. "Ah alone at last," he drawled laconically.
She stared at him, startled. "Beggin' yer pardon Cap'n?"
"I know how desperately eager you are to spend some time alone with me." His mouth was slanted into that wry half smile.
She blinked at him, mouth agape.
"It's called irony, Fraulein," he said dryly. "Usually you are much more sharp-witted. Your intellect is quite formidable after all."
"Oh," she said blankly, feeling as if a puff of wind had softly blown all her thoughts out of her head as she gazed at him in consternation.
He was smirking like a tiger toying with its prey. That was enough to stiffen her spine and drag her pride back.
"You've been avoiding me Fraulein," he chided her light-heatedly, tutting his tongue annoyingly as he shook his head. "It's not like you to be so timid."
"I don't know what you mean Cap'n," she said with dignity.
"Don't you Fraulein? So the fact that you flee like a frightened doe whenever you see me has nothing to do with our enlightening little chat in my study the other week? Then perhaps it's because I have grown two heads?" he suggested, rubbing a finger and thumb near his mouth and chin, while his other hand remained tucked inside his jacket pocket.
"Or perhaps you hate the colour of my ties…. hmm? No? Then maybe it's because you can't stand looking at my ugly face but you are simply too kind to say so?"
She looked at him in astonishment. Was he teasing her? Surely that wasn't possible? Who was this man and what had he done with the real Captain? she wondered in disbelief.
She searched desperately for a suitable retort that would wittily and cleverly put him down, but she had nothing.
Instead she said, with what she hoped was elegant poise, "The children are waiting for me upstairs. As much as I would like to chat Cap'n, I am needed elsewhere."
With her head in the air, she made to leave him, ignoring the chuckle she could hear behind her, but he stopped her.
"Ah Fraulein?"
She turned.
"Where did you say you were from again?" he asked with deceptive mildness.
Her mind was suddenly blank again, but fortunately another part of it was galloping at break-neck speed trying to pick its way through the maze of deceit she had created. She finally remembered with relief, naming the small mountain village that Eliza the waitress had told her she was from.
"Er, Alamy, sir."
"Right, of course. And your family?" Again the question was pleasant enough but she could sense the trap behind it.
"I thought I told you that I ain't got no parents, but I do 'ave an uncle who is ...uhm.. indisposed." She remembered her mischievous deception in the drawing room, implying her uncle was in prison. It had seemed like such fun at the time.
He inclined his head in acknowledgement, eyes gleaming. "You did indeed Fraulein. Thank you." Perhaps it amused him to let her go so that they could skirmish again another day.
She left with her heart thudding anxiously, as skittish as if she really had been a doe who had had a lucky escape from a predator. Had he deliberately disarmed her with his playful teasing to catch her off guard? She wasn't sure, but she knew she would have to keep her wits about her. He had well and truly turned the tables on her, but it was her own blooming fault, she castigated herself for the hundredth time.
Perhaps he had been re-reading the Machiavelli book that he had tried to give her the other week.
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"Just try it again Fraulein Maria," little Marta coaxed with an adorable gap-toothed smile as the children laughed uproariously at Maria's efforts to learn Hochdeutsch a few days later.
They were all having a riotous time in the children's playroom as her secret elocution lessons continued.
"Like this. Just listen carefully," Gretl said encouragingly, loving the role of being the teacher. "Cup. Of. Tea."
"That's what I said: Cuppatay," Maria said cheerfully.
"Alright try this one," Louisa said in affectionate exasperation: "How Kind Of You To Let Me Come."
"Ow kindayou taletmecome."
The children giggled at her efforts.
"Let's try the Rain in Spain again," Friedrich suggested.
The children started the little chant that they had devised to help Maria learn the correct pronunciation:
"Ay not I
O not ow,
Pounding, pounding in our brain,
Ay not I
O not ow
Don't say Rhine say Rain."**
Maria's heart was full of joy. These children were so adorable and she loved their lessons as much as they loved teaching her, even though the guilt at her deceit continued to plague her.
"The Rhine in Spine stays minely on the pline."
"Maybe if we did it to music," Liesl suggested patiently. "Your accent is not strong at all when you sing."
The children all started singing enthusiastically, determined to help their governess.
"The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.
Now, once again where does it rain?
On the plain. On the plain.
And where's that soggy plain?
In Spain. In Spain."**
The singing inevitably led to dancing as they all frolicked around, pretending to do a flamboyant flamenco as they sang. Maria led the way with laughter in her eyes and voice. With feet stomping, arms in the air and fingers clicking dramatically, they danced around the room energetically, giving the occasional shout of "Olé!." Kurt pretended to be bull charging towards an imaginary red flag held by Brigitta.
"Where does it rain?" Lousia called out
"In Spaine, in Spaine."
"She's getting it," Friedrich shouted excitedly. "Again, say it again."
"In Spaine, in Spaine. The Raine in Spaine stays mainely in the plaine."
Maria danced with high spirits, her face alight with mirth. She had an arm straight over her head in flamenco style while the other hand swirled her skirt as she cavorted around the room with the children, in peals of laughter.
She came to an abrupt shocking halt as she turned around and came face to face with the Captain. He was leaning against the doorway nonchalantly, his arms folded and an eyebrow raised sardonically as he watched their antics with a look of unholy amusement on his face.
"Oh," she said, feeling foolish once more. He would have to catch her clowning around again, she thought crossly. She lowered the arm from above her head, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she tried to retrieve her dignity.
The Captain looked even more entertained as he observed eight pairs of eyes looking startled and guilty, their bodies frozen in their various flamenco poses.
After a silence he said dryly, "I must say your teaching methods are somewhat unorthodox, Fraulein."
Maria could hear the smug laughter in his voice as he continued.
"But perhaps I would have enjoyed my own geography lessons much more as a boy if my teacher had also been singing and dancing. Do carry on." He walked away chuckling.
Maria stared after him, fuming at his mockery. She childishly stuck her tongue out at his back, knowing the children couldn't see since they were behind her. It made her feel slightly better. Insufferable, infuriating man, she huffed to herself indignantly.
But a part of her was secretly thrilled that the Captain seemed to be acquiring a sense of humour. Who knew?
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A/N
Ok, parts of this chapter would probably seem pretty wacky and weird if you haven't seen My Fair Lady, (and maybe also if you have seen it, haha), but I hope it made vague sense. Thanks so much for reading. And thanks especially to guest reviewers whom I cannot email personally.
*I'm getting married in the morning. Lyrics and music by Lerner and Loewe, My Fair Lady.
**The Rain in Spain. Lyrics and music by Lerner and Loewe, My Fair Lady.
I do not own TSOM or MFL