Chapter 19: Dreams
Georg woke up with a headache hammering at his temples. Restless sleep and tormented dreams had only magnified his regrets about what had happened at the ball with Maria. He rubbed his forehead wearily, picturing the bewildered hurt in her eyes at his coldness when they waltzed.
He felt a stab of self-contempt that he had caused her that pain. With a curse he remembered how her eyes had been so full excitement, anticipation and nervousness. She had been so beautifully bashful yet so stunningly lovely when he had asked her to dance, but then the radiance in her face had dimmed dramatically while they danced. He realized now of course, that that look had been for him, and not the blasted prince. She really had wanted to dance with him, but in his stupidity he had treated her shabbily. He cursed himself for not realizing that the dance could have been a gift to cherish, a memory of a magical moment for them both to keep when their paths diverged forever. He felt the sudden chill in his heart at the thought.
Layered over the remorse about his governess and their disastrous dance, were disturbing dreams about his children being endangered by the uncertain future. No doubt his discussions with General Towarek at the ball last night had triggered their reappearance. The nightmares were becoming increasingly frequent and utterly terrifying, making him feel like he was freefalling into the pits of hell.
Sometimes he was trapped in a room desperately searching for a way out while his children called to him pleadingly from somewhere outside. But no matter how hard he tried he was unable to find a way to reach them. In other dreams he was back on his U-boat, with the emergency siren clanging out its discordant wail. Pipes hissed and burst while he pulled levers and flicked switches frantically, knowing the controls of the boat no longer worked, overwhelmed with fear as he tried to reach the surface where he knew his children were being held by an unseen enemy.
He had awoken in a tangle of bedsheets, drenched in sweat, his heart thudding with panic that he could not keep them safe. The icy foreboding felt like a heavy rock pressing on his chest. The dreams, he knew, were his mind warning him, as insistently as the piercing shriek of the U-boat alarm, that he was leaving decisions about the safety of his children perilously late.
He got up and sat on the side of the bed, his face in his hands, waiting until the dreams receded and loosened their paralysing grip on his mind. How he longed to hear Maria singing at this moment, just as he had every morning when she practiced with Max. His whole body was craving to hear it, as if he were an addict denied an opiate. Only her singing, crystal clear and pure, had ever been able to give him an escape from his worries. He needed it now with every fibre of his being. But there was nothing. The thundering silence felt accusing, as if taunting him that it was his fault that the exquisite voice was mute.
He headed to the shower. Today would be a decisive day. Now that the blasted ball was over, it was time to take action on several fronts. The thought of taking control over the various unresolved threads of life made him feel calmer. The first thing he needed to do was make things right with his governess and apologize.
He stood in front of his mirror to knot his tie, adjusting it until he felt it was perfect. He noted with a mirthless snort that he looked a sight – there were deep shadows under his eyes and lines of stress on his forehead. A fragment of another dream came to him while he was fussing unnecessarily with his tie. It hadn't been a nightmare like the others, not really, but it did make him feel like he was on the cusp of something profound.
He had been lost in a labyrinth, but there hadn't been the sense of panic and urgency like in the other dreams, rather, a curious sense of melancholy. Around him he had seen dark passages and closed doors as he meandered through. But there was one door in particular that struck him as significant, and he knew, in his dream, that behind that door was something so profound that it would change everything in his life forever. He felt the curiosity, but also the hesitation. He could see his hand reaching for the door knob, but then he paused. No, leave it! A part of his mind urged him to keep that door closed. He wasn't ready to have the world that he had so meticulously constructed, shattered into a million pieces. He saw his hand withdrawing, but still it remained, suspended in mid-air, surprisingly uncertain given his usual decisiveness.
As he stood with his fingers paused on his tie, remembering the dream, he felt a vague curiosity about what would have been revealed behind that door. But then he brought himself up short with another snort. What the hell was he doing, trying to interpret dreams like some ridiculous fortune teller. While the nightmares about his children were a clear indication of impending danger, this dream had just been an absurd construct of an exhausted and troubled mind. Rational, calculated analysis was what was needed to strategize about the next steps in his life.
He went downstairs, the house still silent with sleep. He wondered how Fraulein Maria was sleeping and felt the shame twist in his stomach, knowing how hurt she had been. He would need to see her as soon as possible. He paused for a moment on the stairs, a vivid memory halting his footsteps, just as she had stopped his heart and stolen his breath away, and even robbed him of his ability to speak, when she came down these stairs yesterday evening. She had looked so enchanting. The vision of her captivating beauty was seared on his brain forever. Again, a wisp of the dream floated in his mind, of his hand poised over a door handle, but he shook it off, disagreeably. What the hell? He really needed to get a proper night's sleep.
He stopped in surprise in the doorway to the breakfast room. "Good Lord, Max, it's not like you to be up this early."
"Well I have to go to the Festival this morning for the first performances. I asked Fraulein Maria last night if she wanted to join me but she said it would make her too nervous to see how wonderful all the other participants are. She still does not realize she is in a class of her own. No-one can match her."
Georg remained silent, his jaw set and his fingers twitching in agitation, as uncomfortable memories of last night broke through.
"I see you didn't sleep well." Max could see the lines of weariness on Georg's face and the dark smudges of fatigue under his eyes.
"No I didn't," he said testily.
"Well, I'm sure you'll feel better after you apologize."
Georg just grunted while he served himself coffee.
"Why don't you just tell her your jealousy made you temporarily unhinged?" Max suggested helpfully.
"I was not unhinged," Georg said irritably. "And I wasn't jealous either," he added tersely. "I was merely worried and angry that she seemed to be falling prey to unscrupulous rakes."
Max sighed and made a non-committal "mmm" sound.
"But I will make things right with her, that is a priority this morning," Georg said with grim determination.
He paused for a moment and sighed deeply, rubbing a weary hand on the back of his neck.
"Max, I have to talk to Elsa today too." He didn't need to say anything more because Max looked at him with understanding.
"Well it has to be done, Georg," he said quietly. "It can't go on like this, but for what it's worth I am sorry that it will be difficult conversation. Although at first I wanted to see the two of you together, all that lovely money joined together in holy matrimony and all, but I've come to see that neither of you is suited to the other."
"Mmm," Georg muttered in acknowledgement. He drank his coffee, brooding, and then got up restlessly to stare out the window of the breakfast room, his body rigid with tension. Then he stiffened even more in disgruntled surprise.
"Who the devil is that?" He could see a young man gazing longingly through the iron gate, clutching a bouquet of flowers. He was still dressed in the formal evening-wear of last night, though looking a bit bedraggled with his white tie and wingtip collar askew,
Max went over to the window to look. "Oh him. I suspect he's one of our little Fraulein's admirers from last night. He seems quite love-sick doesn't he? Poor chap." Max shrugged as he sat back down. "But then who can blame him?"
"Franz," Georg bellowed.
"Yes sir?" The butler appeared immediately.
"What is that boy doing loitering outside the gate?" Georg growled.
"He says his name is Herr Freddy Einsfeld-Hugel, sir. He's been there for a couple of hours already even though I told him that Fraulein Maria is resting. He said he would wait."
Georg snapped, "Tell him to go home. I do not want young men mooning around my property."
"Very good, sir."
Georg swore under his breath. "I already told those damned whelps that she is a postulant and they were not to call on her at the villa."
He turned away irritably and then poured another cup of coffee. The distracted way he continued to stir it was evidence enough that his thoughts were in turmoil.
Max waited patiently.
"Max, there are very important things I need to discuss with you, urgently, and I am afraid I will need an answer from you soon about this."
He paused as Max looked at him curiously.
"I want you to consider something." Georg walked over to close the breakfast room door, then spoke quietly.
"With the Anschluss imminent, I need to get the children out of Austria soon, more than likely to their grandparents in England. I was wondering if you would consider being appointed as one of their guardians with their grandparents. Should anything happen to me, Agathe's parents won't be able to manage all of them on their own."
Max looked at him, stunned. "Good grief, Georg, that's unexpected." He was silent, considering, for a moment.
"Well you know how much I love those children, but being their guardian - that's quite a responsibility for a self-indulgent sponge like me. But I would be honoured of course."
"You can take a bit of time to think about it if you need to, but not too long because I need to have the legal papers drawn up. I know you will take good care of them in your own unique way and inimitable style," he added dryly. "And they love you and trust you. But Max, just promise me you won't turn them into circus performers," he said darkly. "I do not want my children ever performing in public."
Max just chuckled, "Now that I think about it, that's a marvellous idea. A family of singing children!" He grinned at Georg's scowl. "Don't worry Georg, I'm only rattling your cage."
But then he sobered and looked at Georg worriedly. "But seriously Georg, are you sure about staying behind?"
"I have to Max. God knows I wish it were otherwise. But if the Chancellor orders a mobilization, I cannot flee like a coward, refusing to defend my own country against an invasion."
Max stroked his moustache in a preoccupied way. "The Anschluss is more complicated than an invasion, Georg, even I can see that. I suppose it is useless to ask you to try to get along with these people should they win?"
He sighed as Georg just snorted derisively.
"As for the children, have you thought of other solutions for them? There might be one staring you in the face."
There was a long pause as Georg sat down abruptly and drummed his fingers on the table. He closed his eyes momentarily, almost as if in pain, as he saw Fraulein Maria with the children in his mind. Each image was full of joy and warmth. He felt a painful clench of his heart. Surely it was a cruel cosmic joke, that the person that the children loved the most since they lost their mother, was someone who could never be with them.
He gave a deep sigh. "You mean asking Fraulein Maria to be a guardian as well? I can't ask her that, as much as the children adore her. God knows she would be ideal, she loves them as if they were her own, but you know she is going to be a nun, Max."
"Is she?" Max asked cryptically, sipping his coffee.
"Why, what has she said to you?" Georg immediately pounced. "Has she changed her mind?
"She hasn't said anything to me, not really anyway, but it's just an instinct that I have. It's quite plain to everyone how unsuited she would be and I think she is realizing that herself now. Perhaps you should talk to her about it," he suggested mildly.
He got up, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. "I have to go, the Festival will be starting shortly. I hope your discussions with Elsa go well, and for heaven's sake Georg, do try not to make a hash of your apology to Maria, she deserves better."
"Yes, I know that!" Georg snapped angrily, his own guilt making him even more irritable.
He remembered something.
"Er...Max," Georg called him back. "Just what was it, that Petrie fellow said about a music career for Fraulein Maria?" His eyes narrowed with suspicion as Max immediately looked cagey.
Max gave an uncomfortable laugh, edging away. "Oh well, that was just Sascha getting carried away. But who knows what our little Fraulein might decide to do if she doesn't go back to the Abbey. It's just a thought of course, but she would be sensational if she chose that path. You saw the unparalleled response to her singing at the ball. Anyway, I have to run," he added hastily as Georg looked increasingly menacing.
ooooOOOOoooo
The sun was high in the sky when Maria awoke. She felt disoriented, wondering why her heart felt so heavy, but then the crushing memories of last night's dance and the Captain's indifference came back to her, making her whole body cringe in response.
Max had been wrong, it didn't look any better in the morning, Maria thought despondently. She lay curled up in her bed, not wanting to move. Her limbs felt leaden, inertia dragging her down. Just the thought of getting out of bed and selecting a dress for the day seemed like too big an effort.
She longed to just lay there all day, wrapped in the warm, safe cocoon of her bed, and just wallow in her sorrow about last night. At least that way she wouldn't have to face him again. Had he guessed her feelings? Was that why he had been so cold? She felt the burn of humiliation like acid in her belly and turned her head into her pillow in a futile attempt to escape her shame. It was still damp from last night's tears. How would she be able to look him in the eyes she wondered in despair.
The evening had started out so well, when he had looked at her, stunned, as she came downstairs in her gown. Then there had been his kindness just before she sang. After that, her heart had been flooded with happiness when she had given him the gift of her song, even though he was unaware of it. But then, inexplicably, it had all gone so terribly wrong when he had danced with her.
That wasn't how it was supposed to happen. At least not in the secret yearnings that she would indulge in, in the velvety darkness of the nights in her bed, over the last weeks. She would often gaze out of the window, her heart filled with wonder at the sky full of stars and a sliver of moon, allowing herself to nurture magical little fantasies of dancing all evening with a handsome sea captain.
She remembered the song she used to love to sing, the first song in fact, that she had sung in this house, in his ballroom before they had even met. But now the words seemed to mock her, laced with tragic irony, but she sang them anyway in tremulous whisper.
"I could have danced all night *
And still have begged for more
I could have spread my wings
And done a thousand things
I've never done before
I'll never know
What made it so exciting
Why all at once
My heart took flight
I only know when he
Began to dance with me
I could have danced, danced, danced all night."
She felt a tear slip down her cheek but then wiped it away with determination. She couldn't lie around moping all day, she scolded herself. She had to get up and see to the children, and then of course there was her performance at the Festival. It was only three days away, she realized as a skitter of alarm ran along her spine. She needed to practice.
She was just sitting up in her bed when she saw her bedroom door open ever so slightly, with a betraying creak. Whispered voices could be heard through the gap.
"She's awake, I can see her."
"Father said we shouldn't disturb her. He said we have to let her rest. He used his strict voice and his face looked stern."
"But she's sitting up."
Maria's heart gave a little leap at the sounds of her beloved children. If anything could be balm to her aching heart it was them.
"Come in, children" she called.
The door burst open and seven children tumbled in; the younger ones hurling themselves on her bed and into her arms, while the older ones tried to saunter in with more dignity, but all of them talking excitedly.
"-Frau Schmidt said you danced with a prince! Is that true? Was he handsome?"
"-Did you leave a slipper behind for him? Are you going to marry him now?"
"-How many people did you dance with?"
"-Did you try any champagne?"
"-Did the women look ugly?"
"-What was it like to sing in front of all those people? Were you scared?"
Maria managed a smile, pushing aside her heartache for the moment, enjoying their eagerness, their unstinting affection, and their innocent, shining eyes. The two little ones were nestled at her side, clutching her tightly. It filled her with warm comfort as she basked in their squeals of joy at seeing her. She tried to answer all the questions they bombarded her with. The more disconcerting ones were from the older girls.
"Did you dance with Father too?" Liesl asked eagerly.
"Yesterday when you came downstairs in your ballgown, your cheeks were all red, and Father didn't seem to be able to say anything at all." Brigitta recounted her observations from last night.
Maria's belly lurched a little to remember how magically the evening had started and how her heart had soared with secret longing.
"Yes, I did waltz with your father." There was only the slightest hesitation as she fibbed. "It was nice, of course. Your father is a good dancer."
She added, relieved that her sadness kept her cheeks pale, "And I am sure that last night, he was only surprised at seeing me in a dress that wasn't covered in grass stains, bicycle grease, artist's paints, and all the other remnants of my adventures with all of you."
They all giggled, distracted, and she quickly changed the subject before they could probe further.
"Now children, I've already slept in. I had better get ready for the day. We'll have to think about what we are going to do today."
"But Father told us you have to rest today and that we should organize ourselves," Friedrich told her reluctantly.
Louisa added, "He's in a bad mood this morning and told us to play outside. Maybe he didn't get enough sleep. He said he has some important things to discuss with various people in his study and he said we were not to disturb him."
Maria was disconcerted by that information. "Well I'm not tired, so after I've had some breakfast we can go for an outing, then we can keep out of your father's way." Privately she felt nothing but relief at the opportunity to get out of the house. Perhaps she could get away without seeing him this morning.
Despite their pleas, Maria would not let any of the children climb down the trellis from her room. Having sneaked in to see their governess against their father's orders, the children left quietly out the back way, down to the garden where they had been relegated.
Maria searched for something appropriate to wear in her wardrobe. Her heart stopped to see the ballgown that she had so carefully hung up last night. She touched the delicate material, as soft as gossamer. When she had worn it, it seemed as if she were somehow able to float on air, and like a magical talisman it had given her the power to do anything, even pass herself off at a glittering ball in exalted company.
She took a deep breath, sudden determination pushing through the sorrow. She would not let herself be brought down by this experience. Suffering after all, was supposed to build character. She remembered a song that was full of prickly pride and defiance. She had heard it a few times on the wireless, never dreaming that its words would have meaning for her one day as she nursed a bruised heart.
"I shall not feel alone without you **
I can stand on my own without you
So go back in your shell
I can manage very well
Without you!"
The song rallied her spirits somewhat, but then her bravado fled again when she ventured downstairs.
She was finishing her breakfast when she heard with dread, the familiar decisive tread of the Captain's footsteps. Her heart froze for a moment, then raced in panic. She willed herself to remain dignified and pretend she was unaffected by last night's events. She kept her eyes on her tea, hoping she was exuding cool nonchalance. But she had to grip the teacup tighter to stop the involuntary tremble of her fingers. She could feel his gaze on her as he stood watching silently, it made her whole body prickle with discomfort. Unnerved, she looked up.
"Good morning, Captain." She felt proud of her calm voice. But then the silence stretched long and thin and she could feel herself unravelling.
After what seemed like aeons he responded guardedly, inclining his head slightly. "Good morning."
He cleared his throat as he finally launched into speech. "There is no need to look after the children today Fraulein, you must be tired after… after singing at the ball."
She tried to decipher his tone but she couldn't make it out, it almost seemed hesitant. But that couldn't be. He was always so self-assured. But at least last night's iciness and indifference were gone.
"That's quite alright Captain, I'll be happy to take the children for an outing. I understand you don't want to be disturbed today."
"Actually Fraulein, I would like a word in my study please."
Oh no! Please don't make me do that, she thought desperately. Her mind searched frantically for an excuse to refuse but it remained stubbornly blank.
"Very well, sir." She got up, feeling acutely self-conscious and wondering why her limbs felt so ungainly under his intense scrutiny as he stood aside to let her pass.
In the study she stood before him ignoring his gesture to take a seat. She didn't intend to stay long enough to sit, her body already felt poised for flight.
"Fraulein." Again there was that curious hesitation. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour last night… when we danced."
Suddenly desperate, Maria did not want to talk about it, the memories of their dance pricking into her like sharp needles of pain and embarrassment. She rushed into panicked speech. "That's quite alright Captain, you obviously weren't in the mood to waltz."
"Fraulein, do let me apologize."
Remembering a similar conversation with the Reverend Mother, Maria said carefully, "If it will make you feel better."
She could see the Captain was disconcerted. Anxious to get out of his presence she hurriedly continued.
"Really, there's nothing to forgive, Captain. It's all forgotten. It was only a dance after all," she said breezily as if it were the most trivial of things. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really must get ready."
She was already heading to the door as she spoke, since she could tell that he wanted to continue the discussion longer.
"Good day, Captain," she said, pretending not to hear as he called after her. She fled upstairs, her heart pounding and her composure in shreds. She took deep breaths to calm herself.
ooooOOOOoooo
Georg waited impatiently for Elsa to wake up. He had resolved two nights ago, before the ball, to end things with Elsa, and now he just wanted it over with as soon as possible, hopefully without hurting her excessively.
It was already past noon, and the wait was making him even more tense than he already was. He was already tetchy enough after his governess had run off without letting him apologise properly. But at least she and the children were out of the house so they wouldn't be around to witness his discussion with Elsa.
Finally, Elsa arrived, immaculately groomed, gliding elegantly into the parlour. "Good morning darling, or perhaps I should say good afternoon," she tittered with amusement.
"Hallo Elsa, I hope you slept well. After you eat, I need to talk to you in my study please."
"My, that does sound ominous," she said with a tinkle of laughter. "You're always so mysterious darling. I don't need to eat anything, I really have to watch my figure after all those delicacies at the ball last night." She posed a little, pretending to be vexed, but knowing she was pencil thin, her appearance flawless.
She lit a long cigarette and blew out a plume of smoke. "As a matter of fact there are things I need to discuss with you too. I heard the most disconcerting things at the ball but I couldn't believe they were true."
"What things?" Georg asked perplexed, but then added, "Let's go to my study where it's private."
Elsa draped herself sleekly on the sofa in his study as if she were posing for a magazine spread.
"Well, I had a very odd conversation with General Towarek. He told me you were reconsidering sending the boys to the Theresian Military Academy. He must be mistaken of course. It must be some miscommunication between the two of you. After all you know how hard I have worked to find the boys places at the Academy, and it's a golden opportunity for them."
Georg's jaw clenched. This was not how he had hoped to start their discussion, but there it was.
"Actually Elsa, I am reconsidering… no that's not true, I have to say that I know very well I will not be sending the boys there. I do appreciate how hard you worked and I cannot thank you enough for that, but with the Anschluss looming I cannot put the boys in harm's way."
"What?" Elsa looked incredulous and appalled. "That's ridiculous Georg, why would they be harmed? It's true that the Anschluss seems inevitable but we'll just have to adjust ourselves to the new order."
Georg sighed impatiently. "Elsa, you know I could never do that. I have already made that quite clear. If the Chancellor issues the command, I will of course heed the call to arms to defend Austria."
Elsa stared at him, aghast. "For heaven's sake Georg, even you must realise it is futile to take on the might of the Third Reich. I thought you would have seen sense by now. You have a much better chance of survival if you change your allegiance now. There is no shame in it, most people in Austria are already doing it, quite sensibly. I am sure we can arrange a little meeting with that Zeller fellow. Of course they would welcome you with open arms, being a national hero and such an experienced military man. You would have a command again and I know they would promote you. Just think of the possibilities."
"Elsa," Georg's patience was wearing thin. "I will never join them. I thought you understood that after our discussion at the opera a few weeks ago. I will not give up my principles nor sell my soul for any price. But it doesn't matter about what I will be doing in the future because we need to talk about us, now."
But Elsa interrupted, clearly getting angrier at his refusal to see sense.
"Georg, I have to say I am very disappointed in your poor decisions regarding the children. You simply must send the boys to the Academy. For heaven's sake, can't you see how soft they are? They spend too much time with their sisters and that unruly governess. The Theresian Military Academy will toughen them up and make them into men."
For a moment Georg was speechless with disbelief. "What?" he asked, astounded and outraged that she was speaking of his sons and Maria in that manner.
"Elsa-"
But she overrode him, giving vent to her frustrations of the last months.
"And as for the girls, the best thing for them is the Finishing School that I worked so hard to get them into. I had to use all my connections. Liesl may have a chance of becoming a lady and making a good marriage, but Louisa is far too headstrong and tomboyish. She's belligerent-"
Georg cut her off, appalled. "I don't wish you to speak about my children in this manner-" he snapped, furiously. Their discussion was escalating out of control but he was too offended to care. How dare she?
But there was no stopping Elsa. "How can those poor children take up their proper station in life when you are allowing them to run wild like little hooligans."
"I don't care to hear anything further from you about my children!"
"I know you don't but you've got to. Someone has to make you see sense. No one in decent society will ever accept them." Elsa continued, heedless of the fury in Georg's eyes.
"Elsa-" He held up a finger in warning, the rage boiling over.
"And as for Brigitta, she is far too nosy. She is always watching everything, it's very unseemly-"
"Enough!" To his horror he found himself roaring, and made an effort to calm himself, though he continued to speak through gritted teeth.
"I will not have you criticising my children! You can say what you like about me, but no-one talks about my children in such a way! Ever."
Georg felt the rage consuming him, his chest heaving. How dare anyone say a word against his children. Every one of them were absolutely perfect in their own unique way. They had turned out remarkably well despite his own failings as a father. He was ferociously proud of them and loved them with a fierceness that bordered on painful. Elsa's words were intolerable and he fought the impulse to tell her to get out. He took deep breaths, drawing on all his reserves of self-discipline. Pinching the bridge of nose, he sought to calm his fury.
"Elsa," he said in a more reasonable tone, though the rage was barely tamped down. "You should know I won't be sending the girls to Finishing School either-"
"What?" Elsa's face was a mask of fury. "After all my efforts! Have you taken leave of your senses?"
"Elsa, this discussion stops now. You will not speak of my children again. I will not tolerate it. The children are perfect just the way they are. I would not change anything about them. I think this shows clearly that there is no future for us. I am sorry it has end on such a bitter note, I had hoped we could part on good terms."
"Well, really!" Elsa's tone showed that she could not believe her ears. She was so used to calling the shots with men that she was nearly speechless with outrage, but not quite. "You're ending our courtship? After I have spent so long in this Godforsaken backwater? Well you should know I have been thinking along the same lines for some time now. As soon as that ill-bred governess arrived, I could see she was casting a spell on you, making you unable to see reason."
"Don't you dare speak about my governess in that way," he snapped. "She has brought joy to the children and I owe her debt I can never repay in a hundred lifetimes."
Elsa snorted. "That is exactly what I mean about her casting a spell. You have completely changed and she has made you forget your position and status."
"Elsa, leave her out of this –" he snarled warningly.
"Alright I will, but let me say my piece about you before I leave and I hope it will make you wake up before it's too late. I am sorry Georg, you are simply not the man I thought you were. You were so different in Vienna but here I can barely recognize you. I am going to pack my little bags and return to Vienna where I belong. And if by chance you do come to your senses then you may call me, and we can see where we go from there."
She paused for breath, her voice brittle with anger. "But I warn you Georg, I will not tolerate living in this rural outpost. You will have to move to Vienna, and you will have to set the children on the correct path that is befitting their status. You will also have to give up the suicidal ideas of opposing the Anschluss, putting us all in danger too. Those are my terms. I do hope for your sake and your children's future that you will wake up and do the right thing!"
With a furious swish of her silken skirts she left the room.
Georg was stupefied. Through the blinding relief that she was gone, was the sickening realisation that he had actually contemplated marrying her. How could he have possibly thought of entrusting his beloved children into her care? How could he have been so blind? God almighty, since when had his judgement been so monstrously off-target? Had she always been like this and hidden it? Why hadn't he seen it earlier? What else had he got so spectacularly wrong?"
Unexpectedly, a fragment of his dream swooped down on him, of his hand poised to open a door in the labyrinth, but he shook off the image like an irritating fly. Usually dreams dissolved into the ether, never to be remembered again, but this one was annoyingly persistent. It was infuriating.
ooooOOOOoooo
A/N: Well, that's Elsa dispatched. I know I have made her into an over-the-top villain. Mea Culpa Elsa, for writing your character in such a fiendishly horrid way in this story.
Thanks so much for reading and I would love to know your thoughts.
*I could have danced all night. Lyrics and music by Lerner and Lowe, My Fair Lady;
**Without you. Lyrics and music by Lerner and Lowe, My Fair Lady.
I do not own TSOM or My Fair Lady