Georg stood back and watched on. She had a habit of getting lost in her own world. Thankfully, at least for the moment, she was far too busy to waste time worrying. Buying gifts for the children had seemed like a good idea, even if it had left him a little uneasy at first. But it was important to continue on with their plans. And in the end, for both of them, it had turned out to be the perfect distraction. Who was he kidding? She was the perfect distraction.

Amused, he watched her head drop to the side as the creases on her brow deepened. Even in those early days when he'd first returned from Vienna, those stolen moments standing in the shadows of the hallway, watching her deliver lessons in the school room, he'd loved how she immersed herself in the children. Not that he was fooling himself. Her initial panic may have subsided for now, but the distraction of the children wouldn't last forever. Before long, her thoughts would return to that damn letter.

Watching on, he felt a tug of love as she focused on his children. Their children. Whenever he'd come to Vienna in the past, buying gifts for them had been the last thing on his mind. Even when his time away had clashed with birthdays or anniversaries, there were no presents, and never any calls home. But then, being away had never been an accident or a mere coincidence. Oh no, he would find the flimsiest excuse to flee the villa and avoid those days that were seeped in pain and filled with bitterness. Escaping the memories, leaving behind the agony of facing those days alone, knowing that if he stayed he'd be unable to raise a smile for the occasion, whatever it was, let alone force a cheerfulness that seemed so absurd and out of place. Even buying presents for Christmas had proven too much. One year, he'd tried. But his efforts hadn't amounted to more than a hopeless attempt at an incomplete gift list. Remembering with guilt how those tasks had fallen to Frau Schmidt, he cleared his throat

At the sound, Maria's head spun around with a questioning look. He nodded reassuringly and she gave him a smile. But before she had turned away completely, his feet were already shifting uneasily, trying to shake off the guilt that always accompanied the bitter memories of those dark days. Even as the weeks had become months, even as the children quickly forgave him, it seemed that time would never fully erase his shame. How often had Maria encouraged him, reassuring him it would take time? It would get easier, she'd told him time and again. Perhaps she was right, perhaps it already had. At least now, he could admit his own failings. That had been a progress of sorts. For the children, it had seemed so simple. They just wanted to be loved, just wanted their father back. Forgiveness had come quickly. Forgiving himself, well, that was something entirely different.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, his eyes followed Maria as she moved along the wooden shelving, searching for their final gift. After leaving Max in the hotel foyer, their first stop had been to purchase Maria a sensible pair of shoes. This morning she'd slipped on the shoes she'd worn to the ball, but before long the red marks left on her feet from last night were threatening to become blisters. Since leaving the shoe shop, they'd made several stops to buy a present for each of the children. They'd agreed it would only be something simple, and with Max having taken the car to visit Elsa, it had to be something small.

Before they'd started, their hearts hadn't really been in it. Not when their minds were on that damn letter. It was only when they'd started shopping for the children that Maria had started to relax. To his amazement, she already knew the perfect gift for each child. He smiled to himself as she bit on her lower lip, the creases on her brow becoming a frown. God, he loved her! He wished their morning hadn't been ruined, wished they could take their time and spend the day together. Alone. Just the two of them. But of course, they didn't have all day and after that letter, they were both anxious to get home. Wondering what the time was, he'd check his watch if he could, but his arms were full of gift wrapped boxes.

"What do you think, Georg?"

Dragged from of his thoughts, he gave her a smile as she held up a hairclip with a questioning look. It was a beautiful, simple piece with a row of tiny porcelain edelweiss flowers along the length of the clip. "For Louisa?" he arched a brow, trying to be feign confusion. "Are you sure?"

Seeing through his teasing and attempt to lighten the mood, Maria shook her head. "No, for Liesl, darling," she forced a smile, but it struggled to reach her eyes. She knew how difficult this was for him, even without the mysterious arrival of that letter. That letter. She wished she hadn't found it under the door. When she first saw it, her heart had skipped a beat thinking it was another of Georg's notes. How wrong she'd been. Wishing it weren't weighing so heavily, she tried her best to push it to the back of her mind.

"Liesl...? Of course," Georg continued playing along and gave her a half grin before his eyes fell back on the clip with its delicate star-shaped flowers. "She'll adore it."

Maria walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. "Wait here," she spoke softly before making her way towards the counter at the back of the shop. She still had enough change in her pocket from the bookstore where they'd bought a gift for Brigitta. Reaching the counter, she stood to the side, and waited patiently for two women to be served. She turned back to where Georg was still standing. Their eyes met, and he gave her one of his searing looks. She quickly turned away before she had a chance to make a fool of herself.

Concentrating on Liesl's hairclip, she ran her thumb gently across the edelweiss flowers. He'd told her she shouldn't worry, but it was impossible not to. The letter had been sent from the German leader, a personal invitation to take up a commission in their navy. Knowing how much Georg despised Hitler and all he stood for, there was no doubt in her mind that he would ignore the offer. But it was the sinister way the note was stuffed under the door in the early hours of the morning that was playing on her mind. Who even knew Georg was supposed to be staying there? She shivered at the thought, wishing they were home with the children. For a moment, her thoughts stopped churning and she wondered what they were doing.

She stole another glance across the shop, but he was looking out the shop window. Despite the distance between them, she could see through his forced bravado. He was right, they should ignore the letter and go about their day as if nothing had happened. Still, there was that nagging feeling that someone had been watching them. And not just in Vienna. The distraction of shopping had worked for a while, but it also reminded her how far away the children were. How much she missed them. She wished they could keep living in their own little world at the villa forever, away from the politics, the prying eyes and the cruel gossip. But, of course, they couldn't.

"Can I help you, Fraulein?"

Looking up, Maria smiled at the woman behind the counter, surprised to realise she was the only customer standing there and the two women were already halfway to the door. She passed the hairclip across the counter to the shopkeeper. "Could I have this wrapped, please?"

"Of course," the middle-aged woman nodded. She carefully wrapped the hairclip in tissue paper before placing it in a small box. Tearing off a piece of brown paper, she glanced at the serious-looking, older man who'd arrived with the young lady at the counter. Her eyes narrowed. Captain von Trapp. Quickly reminding herself it was rude to stare, she turned her attention back to her gift wrapping.

Recognising him from the photographs that would appear in the newspaper from time to time, she was surprised to see him in her shop. Several weeks ago, when his engagement was announced, there had been a lengthy article about the Captain, including an old photograph from his days in the navy. Cutting a length of blue ribbon to hold the paper in place, she stole a glance at the woman, deciding she must be his new fiancé. She discretely searched her hand and found a simple, elegant engagement ring. The young woman was sharing a look with the dashing Captain, who was far more handsome in person than in the photographs.

"This will suit you perfectly, Fraulein," the woman looked up as she finished tying the ribbon in a bow.

"Oh, it's not for me," Maria could feel her cheeks growing warm as she handed the shop keeper several coins. "It's for one of the Captain's daughters."

"Well, she's a lucky young lady," the woman smiled. "I hope you don't have too much more shopping," she said, searching in the counter drawer for the correct change. "The Captain already seems to have his arms full," she smiled as she handed over two silver coins and the wrapped gift.

"He'll be relieved when I tell him this is our last stop," Maria smiled, taking the coins and gift. "Thank you."

Turning from the counter, she walked towards Georg, who was now waiting for her by the doorway. "Perhaps I should carry this one," she dropped her eyes to the bundle of parcels in his arms.

"At least let me get the door," he started juggling the parcels to free a hand.

"I think I'd better," Maria smiled, placing a hand on his arm. He gave her a grateful grin as she pulled open the shop door, the bell on the door ringing above them as they stepped out onto the street.

Despite being the perfect autumn morning, there were still only a handful of people making their way along the footpath. They walked in a comfortable silence along the treelined street, which was just around the corner from the Hotel Imperial. This street would take them to Karlsplatz, which ran along the northern border of Resselpark, and just across the park, on the southern side, was Hede's flat. A few couples sat at the tables dotted along the street outside the cafés, enjoying the sunshine, despite a cool, gentle breeze taking the edge off its warmth.

"Can we stop at the bakery?" Maria turned to Georg. "We should get something for lunch."

"Of course, darling," Georg smiled. They'd only been in Vienna a few days, but the bakery around the corner from the Hotel Imperial had already become a favourite place to stop for pastries and a cup of coffee or a pot of tea. "It's on our way to Hede's."

As they walked down the street towards the park, he felt Maria's hand take hold of his elbow. Turning his head slightly, he gave her a wink. Her hand tightened around his arm, bringing a smile. He loved being with Maria, loved being seen with her. Loved her touch and that surge of ridiculous male pride that came from knowing that she was his. Or was it the other way around? There was no doubt that he was hopelessly hers.

Halfway down the street, the unmistakable smell of freshly baked bread started filling the air around them. "As much as I love Cook's baking, I'm going to miss this," Maria whispered, giving Georg a nudge as they neared the bakery.

"Run inside, darling. I'll wait here for you." Wanting it to be a surprise, he hadn't yet told her about his honeymoon plans. After their days in Vienna, he just knew she'd fall in love with the Paris and its laneways filled with cafes. Not that he planned to spend much time exploring the city. There would be too many, much more delightful things to explore, and none of them would require leaving the hotel. His body tightened instinctively as the image of black lace falling from Maria's body rushed to the front of his mind. His eyes moved down her body at the thought of her seductive lingerie hidden underneath her new dress.

Unwittingly saving him from his wicked thoughts, Maria squeezed his arm. "I won't be long," she whispered, placing Liesl's gift on top of the presents in his arms. Returning the look in his eyes with a playful smile, she pushed the bakery door open. The small bell above the door rang out, announcing her arrival, not that it drew the attention of any of the customers. They were far too busy trying to make an impossible choice between the rows of pastries and cakes lining the shelves beneath the glass counter. Two women bustled behind the counter, trying to keep up with the customers. The wall behind them was lined with baskets, some still overflowing with loaves and rolls freshly baked in the early hours of the morning.

Standing back, waiting patiently, Maria glanced over her shoulder. Looking out the shop window, her eyes fell on the tables lining the footpath, their cheery red and white gingham check table clothes flapping gently in the breeze. A couple sat at one of the tables, sharing a large piece of cake over cups of coffee. The only other customer was a rather serious looking, middle-aged gentleman reading the newspaper over a pot of tea. He was so engrossed in the day's news, his eyes didn't shift as he reached for his teacup and lifted it to his lips to take a sip.

Her eyes left the man with the newspaper and searched for Georg, but she couldn't see him. Hearing one of the women behind the counter bidding farewell to a customer, she turned back towards the counter. "Could I have four cinnamon buns, four fruit buns and four slices of apple strudel?" It was more than they needed for lunch, but Max would eat any leftovers on the drive home, even after his lunch with the Baroness. She watched on as the woman behind the counter began filling brown paper bags with the buns and pieces of strudel.

Keeping out of the way of the customers as they came and went from the bakery, Georg stood on the footpath with his back to the window of the dressmaker's shop next door. Out of habit, his eyes scanned the footpath and street around him. A distant observer may have mistaken him as nonchalant, a little bored even, but his casual air betrayed the trained eye of someone methodically, skilfully surveying the surrounding street. His eyes scanned from left to right, then darted back, following any movement, identifying anyone who entered the street.

Ordinarily, he'd simply be observing, instinctively studying who was coming and going, watching what they were doing. But this morning was different. The arrival of that letter had brought a far more urgent and sinister edge to his observations. Maintaining his nonchalant façade, he searched for anyone who might look out of place, someone who didn't fit the relaxed Saturday morning streetscape.

Despite his efforts to reassure Maria, as much as he'd been trying to appear unaffected, he was troubled. Who knew he was staying at the Hotel Imperial? He always made a point of holding back personal details, of never divulging too much. Even with close friends and trusted acquaintances he would remain distant and deliberately vague. He'd learned in the past, conversations could easily be overheard, or seemingly unimportant information inadvertently passed on. Had he slipped up last night? He doubted it. Over the years, for as long as he could remember, he'd perfected the art of remaining aloof and detached.

Retracing last night in his mind, his eyes followed a woman holding the hand of a small boy. Such an innocent image against the sinister backdrop of what their world was threatening to become. Arriving at the ball, they'd met the dignitaries and their wives, then stood in the ballroom with Hede and Max. He bristled, recalling how people hadn't even tried to conceal their gossiping. They hadn't spoken to anyone else, he'd been too angry. Breaking his thoughts, he nodded and smiled at a couple who paused for a moment to acknowledged him as they walked past. He didn't know them, but then, often he never did.

Watching them drift along the footpath into the distance, his mind turned back to last night. He'd danced with Maria, then left her to join the other retired officers and current army leaders. Squaring his shoulders, he recalled the vocal arguments against taking action to protect the country against the Nazis. True, it had only been a handful of young officers who were willing to show their hand and align themselves with the Germans, but their support had been loud and vocal, drowning out any effort by loyalists to mount a defence of Austria's independence and proud history. It hadn't taken long for them to suppress most in the room who had earlier, privately, voiced a willingness to take a patriotic stand. In the end, many just looked on in silence, preferring to remain passive. At least publicly. Perhaps Max was right. Perhaps the older men in the room were just tired, their family's safety more important than defending their proud nation.

But not him. He'd be damned if he'd sell out to a madman, peddling his politics of hate and division. He hadn't held back, gladly telling the room what he thought of Hitler, trying to gather support for standing up to the bully across their border. It was an uncomfortable truth, but one he had to face. Because of their silence, once trusted friends and comrades were now effectively doing the bidding of the Third Reich.

In his mind, he worked his way through the faces of the men who'd been in the room. What did he hope to remember? Shared looks between co-conspirators? The guilty eyes of a traitor? He wished now he hadn't been so hot-headed. Perhaps, in his anger he'd missed something. He wasn't sure. But one thing was certain. More than ever, he could trust no one.

His eyes fell on a young man in an ill-fitting suit on the opposite side of the street. Noticing him earlier when he'd first entered the street, he had kept him in his sight. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and the man hurriedly looked away from him. A little too fast. He stopped, turned, and was now looking in the nearest shop window. Georg smiled to himself as he watched the scruffy young man take a keen interest in the shop's window display. Being one of Elsa's favourites, he knew that shop far too well. It was filled with the latest and most exclusive shoes from Milan and Paris. The youth couldn't have looked more out of place.

At the sound of a bell, his head turned towards the bakery door. He forced a smile at a woman carrying a loaf of bread wrapped in a sheet of parchment paper. She walked past him, for a moment cutting off his line of sight. As she moved further along the footpath, once again his eyes were on the man across the street, who was still feigning interest in women's shoes.

He wondered how long he'd been followed. He doubted it had only been since they'd arrived in Vienna. After all, he'd never made his opinions a secret and traitors like Zeller had never disguised their hatred. If he was on his own, if his arms weren't full, he'd already be across the street confronting the young man. But he needed to be careful. The offer of a commission in the German navy was as much a challenge to him as a genuine offer they expected him to accept. It was their first shot, a signal that the games had begun.

His head turned again at the sound of the bakery door's bell. Maria!

Searching the footpath for a moment, Maria turned her head and found Georg standing in front of the neighbouring shop, looking at her. "What is it, darling?" She could see something in his eyes, something that didn't match his smile.

He shook his head as he started moving towards her. "Nothing," he answered, not very convincingly. "Let's walk through the park."

Walking along the street towards the park, Maria glanced across at Georg. His jaw was set in that hard line she'd come to recognise. Something was troubling him. What had happened while she'd been in the bakery? Reaching the end of the street, she noticed Georg turned his head to look back along the opposite side of the street. He cursed softly under his breath.

Maria glanced at him. "Alright, what's wrong?" she stopped and turned.

"Keep walking, Maria," he slowed down, but didn't stop. He cursed silently to himself for losing sight of the young man in the ill-fitting suit. "I'll tell you when we reach the park," he waited for her to fall into step beside him before picking up the pace.

Walking in silence, Maria glanced sideways. Something was definitely wrong. His jaw was even tighter and now he was squaring his shoulders. As much as she wanted to know what had changed his mood so dramatically, she didn't push him. He'd tell her when he was ready.

Reaching the Karlsplatz, they stopped and waited for a lone car to pass, before crossing the wide avenue. They entered Resselpark on one of the paths that zigzagged the perfectly manicured lawns. There were more people, mostly families, enjoying the morning sunshine in the park than there had been on the streets.

"What's wrong, Georg?" Maria asked in a quiet voice.

"Keep walking, darling," he slowed his steps. "Don't react, don't turn around," his voice was low and commanding. "Can you do that?"

Maria turned to him and nodded.

"I didn't want to say anything," he whispered, "but we're being followed."

"Followed…?" Instinctively, she stopped, and was about to spin around.

"No, no…" his voice was low and commanding, forcing her to freeze. "Don't turn around, darling," he added, his tone softer, kinder.

"But why?" Her feet started moving again and she fell into step beside him. "What do they want?"

"Power, control, some Austrian trophies recruited to their cause," he growled under his breath. They stopped abruptly to let a small girl run across the path in front of them. "Remember what I told you this morning?" He watched as Maria nodded slowly. "I will never join them."

They started walking again, the laughter of a nearby group of children a jarring contrast to the seriousness of their conversation. "But what if you don't have a choice?" Maria asked, wondering how he could be so confident. "Georg, I've thought about it and I don't think I could say goodbye and watch you leave for the navy," she took hold of his elbow, and held on tightly. "I'm not Agathe..." she added softly.

"Maria, darling," Georg turned to her with soft eyes, "I'm not going anywhere. We're Austrian. I don't care how many letters I receive from that mad German, he can't force me to do anything. Especially join his damn, tin pot navy."

"Well, I hope so," Maria answered, still not convinced.

"Well, I know so," Georg told her emphatically. They walked along in silence, but he could tell her thoughts were still churning. "Please don't worry, darling."

She turned to him and forced a smile. "I'll try not to," she whispered.

"I have no idea what the time is, but hopefully we won't have to wait too long for Max," Georg was keen to get her home to the children and away from all of this.

"I know what you mean," Maria agreed, desperate to get back to the sanctuary of the children and the villa. "But it was good of Max to pay the Baroness a visit."

"Mmmm," Georg nodded. It always felt a little awkward talking about Elsa to Maria.

"I haven't had a chance to tell you that she congratulated me and passed on her best wishes."

"Who? Elsa?"

"Yes," coming to a crossing in the paths, they slowed down to let a family pass in front of them on the other footpath. "I must say, she was very kind."

"Really?" Georg mumbled. Max had said she was upset, but he hadn't been convinced. He was sure she'd still be angry.

"She even apologised for all the horrible gossip..."

"What?"

"Oh, no, no," Maria quickly turned to him. "She told me she had nothing to do with it."

"That's good to hear." Not that he was entirely convinced. In the past, he'd heard Elsa and her friends circling in on people, taking great delight dissecting their misfortune and the tiniest drama in their private lives, blowing everything up into a huge scandal. Perhaps it was easier to remember Elsa that way, rather than acknowledge his guilt for the way he'd led her on, for the way things ended.

"I do hope she's feeling better," Maria added.

"So do I," Georg knew that if anyone could lift her spirits, it would be Max. They had reached the southern end of the park and were waiting for the traffic to pass so the could cross the street. Grateful that Maria seemed to have tired of the Elsa conversation, they walked along the footpath in silence

"Georg?"

"Yes, darling?"

"We're almost at Hede's and I don't want you to be angry with her," Maria turned to him, her blue eyes wide and pleading.

"Angry?"

"Yes. Angry." She said the word with more emphasis this time. "I just want you to remember, I was the one who begged her to dance."

"Even so, she shouldn't..."

"Georg, Max was still with me. None of us had any way of knowing that we'd run into Elsa or that Max would end up having to leave," Maria continued. "I just don't want you blaming your sister."

They had reached Hede's apartment block and started taking the stairs up to the first floor. "Maria, I just think she showed poor judgment, that's all," Georg wasn't planning to cause a scene, he just thought it was important to explain to his sister that she'd done the wrong thing. He'd given her very clear instructions for a very good reason. And Max or no Max, it had been irresponsible leaving Maria just so she could go off and dance with some officer from the army.

Reaching the landing of the first floor, they walked to Hede's front door. "Before I knock," Maria turned to Georg, "I want you to promise that you won't get angry."

"But..."

"No buts, darling, promise me. Please?"

Georg stared into her wide blue eyes. She was beautiful, caring and wise beyond her years. And totally irresistible. "Well, alright then," he huffed, "I promise. But only because you asked so nicely."

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered against his ear. While he stood wondering if he'd ever be able to resist her, she knocked on the door. Turning to him with a triumphant smile, they waited for Hede to open the door. Looking at the door with a frown, she knocked again.

They turned to each other and waited.

Still, there was no answer...

Thank you everyone for continuing to read! Thanks to everyone who's left a review, especially the guest reviewers who I can't thank personally.

Apologies for the delay in updating, but life took over these past weeks and writing had to take a back seat.

I still don't own TSOM, just having a little lend.

"Immerse your soul in love"