My sincere apologies for the long wait between updates, I took the summer off to enjoy my children! I have finished this little tale and will be posting once a week until I am done!
I hope this next bit will keep you entertained.
"Never close your lips to those whom you have already opened your heart."
― Charles Dickens
Chapter 3
"What should I do, Maximilian?"
"I know what I should be telling you to do…"
"But?"
Max leaned forward and slapped his palm against Georg's sternum, "Follow this."
But he hadn't.
And Georg was having Regret for pudding at his own party.
He had followed his head. Georg had retreated to his office and created an excessively organized checklist and weighed the pros and cons. Color coded no less.
Organization, discipline, control.
These things had served him well in the past, made order amidst the chaos of war and given him refuge in the wake of his grief. There was no reason to believe that a deviation from his norm would serve him well in just this one situation when his rigid regulation of himself and his environment had alway proved successful in the past.
Elsa was the reasonable and respectable and responsible choice. Maria, no, Fraulein Maria, was off limits to him, to everyone except perhaps God. He resolved to respect her choices and her calling for a higher purpose. Discipline, that was all he needed. To turn his formidable skills at deflection and distraction onto himself and avoid her at all costs until whatever this was between them passed by.
He recalled drawing a deep breath of satisfaction, safe behind his desk as he gazed down at the sheet of paper he had reduced his life to.
Over the next two weeks, as the house was thrown into pre-party turmoil, he took his own advice. He never sought Maria ought directly, although he did run into her from time to time, very casually of course. It wasn't as if he had her schedule memorized… The house wasn't that large and people were bound to cross paths once or five times a day. He told himself that he did need to check on the progress the children were making, even if, as Max rudely pointed out, he had never done so with any other governess in the past. Ever.
He studiously ignored her at dinner time, unless he was hanging on her every word fork poised halfway to his mouth and being kicked in the shin under the table by Max to remind him painfully of where he was. It was only that he was so unsure about what was going to come out of her mouth next and the uncertainty intrigued him. That and her pillowy bottom lip that just begged for...something he shouldn't want so badly to give.
He hadn't hung up on an important business call mid sentence and run flat out through his house and taken the steps three at clip when he had seen her take a tumble from his study window. In fact, he had barely felt Elsa's glare burning a hole through his suit jacket as he walked past her with a barely injured Maria is his arms. He rationalized with himself that he would have done the same for Elsa but she hardly ever walked unless necessary and she certainly wasn't tripping and falling trying to win capture the flag.
In fact, he was adhering to his plan so well that he completely ignored Elsa's tirade about wasting money on sending extra material out to the house for a governess to make a dress from for the party. After all, she deserved it after that incident with Kirk and the pie eating contest. He shuddered at the memory.
Shaking his head back into the present, Georg sighed, deeply, drawing the attention of a former naval officer who raised a brow in question at him. Georg gave him a weak smile and shrugged his shoulders. It had all been for naught. Obviously his treacherous heart thought "avoiding" her meant following Elsa to her room and then throwing all his carefully laid plans to the wind when his mouth and heart had rebelled and told her exactly what he was thinking.
"I have no intention of letting you go," He rubbed his hand across his forehead and surveyed his dinner guests as his own words echoed in his head. Foolish.
And then he had touched her.
Trailed his fingers along the powdery skin of her cheek and had barely restrained himself from rubbing his thumb over her plump bottom lip as she stared at him, open mouthed with shock. Maria had shivered under his fingertips. She had responded to him visibly with just a simple touch. He was racked with thoughts about how responsive she might be to a firmer touch.
There was really no way for her misinterpret that was there? He might as well have stood there and told her how much he cared for her. How much he wanted to draw her into his arms and offer her comfort when he heard Elsa laying into her. Liar, he admonished himself. That was not the only reason he wanted to take her in his embrace and he knew it.
But as he sat there, brooding into his schlosser bubun, he could feel the weight of his decision. Hell, he could smell it every time Elsa's rare and expensive perfume wafted his way. It was making him a little nauseous. Georg absently rubbed a thumb across his forehead to brush away the headache he could feel between his eyes as he thought of Elsa. He was furious with her, because she had dared to speak to Maria in such a way. Dammit, Fraulein Maria. And he was furious with himself for being embroiled in the mess in the first place.
While Elsa may have taken the initiative and followed Maria into her room Georg was truly the one at fault. For letting the situation get this far. For never showing Elsa who the real Georg was. For burying himself and his children in his grief and living a half life these past years. He had been unfair to her, he had offered her a ghost of a man and in her desperation for kindness she had decided to take what little he could give. Could he blame Elsa for believing him to be exactly what he had presented to her?
Georg had managed to catch Maria's eye as the desert was being served, and the air had grown heavy and still. His vision had tunnelled and his awareness had narrowed to only her. Her white teeth tugging at her lower lip and the sweep of her lashes as she lowered her eyes avoid the palpable force of attraction between them. Georg was uncertain of what she might be feeling but his chest ached whenever he looked at her. His fingers wiggled and twitched, burning off the nervous energy.
The only one that mattered in a roomful of strangers. He felt the bite of metal in his palm and looked down to see that he had bent the fork in his hand.
He had been a fool.
He had made the wrong choice.
He wasn't going to be able to let her go without a fight.
And he never lost.
He would give her the choice. Show Maria what her what a life outside the convent might look like. Might feel like.
Georg stabbed the fork into his desert hard enough for Elsa to notice and give him a withering look of disapproval. Georg dropped the ruined fork and picked up his tea spoon, purposefully using the wrong utensil to spite her and he shoved a bite into his mouth and chewed in retaliation.
Max lazed back into his seat and gave his belly a fond pat to help settle the two helpings of strudel he had managed, his and Maria's. He watched her fidget uncomfortably in her seat, her hands clenched around the napkin in her lap, twisting it so hard he felt sure she could spin it into gold if she concentrated harder. Her discomfort was palpable as the meal came to a close. He could almost hear her thoughts, worrying no doubt about what to do next. He was going ot have to find a moment alone with her to ask about what had really happened upstairs if he could. He flicked his eyes over to Georg and watched him from beneath hooded lashes. He was looking at Maria as though he was he was starving and she was the last plate of schnitzel. Wonderful, he'd have to find a way to drag Georg from the ballroom and dunk his head in the lake whilst giving him a lecture on subtlety. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Good Lord," Max mumbled, watching Georg bend the expensive silverware in his hand while he played in his desert.
Max sighed.
He was going to have to intervene, the weight of his own guilt was conflicting with his digestion. It simply wouldn't do.
Max sighed again. All that lovely money, "..c'est la vie," he muttered under his breath as he watched his dearest friend in the world sink into misery. He felt a slice of something in his chest that felt very much like shame and rubbed at it as he glanced between Maria and Georg as though a spectator at a tennis match. In Vienna, Elsa had seemed like such a good idea. He thought perhaps she could bring Georg back from the lonely path he had been walking. And to a certain extent she had. He was going to have to be the hero tonight and save them all from a very public scandalous explosion the likes of which Salzburg had not seen since he was a young man. And he would deny sending that girls knickers across the ballroom till his dying day. Shaking his head a bit and grabbing up his glass of water Max resigned himself to an evening free of any more alcohol, at least until he could manage to clean up the mess he had made of this situation. Only after his triumph would he be sneaking down to Georg's cellars for a bottle of bubbly that cost more than he made in six months. He grinned at the thought and stroked his impressive mustache. He would need to bring all his skills to bear this evening to untangle this mess. He smiled to himself, he was going to enjoy watching the show immensely.
Ears pricking when he heard the sound of the orchestra starting again, Max stood and reached his hand out to a lost looking Maria who accepted it. She looked grateful to be leaving the table.
"Shall we go and have a dance?"
"Oh, well, I thought that I should go back up-"
"Dance with old Maxy. I cannot promise to be as light on my feet as I used to be but I can still get us around the floor without bumping into anyone else," He smirked at her, "Well, maybe."
Maria gave him a weak smile and a little nod before Max swept her into a fast turn and onto the floor. She laughed at his antics and found herself enjoying the spin of the room around her. It kept her from being able to focus on the faces, one in particular.
Max slowed the dance down a bit and waited until Maria looked up at him, questioning the change in tempo.
"Now that I have you all alone for a few minutes, why don't you tell Max every teensy weensy detail of what really happened when you went to change your dress, mm?"
"Wh-what?" Maria stammered, her mind racing as she wondered if Max had heard. Had the other guests?
"I saw Georg and Elsa on their way back into the ballroom. Georg was madder than a dragon without a virgin sacrifice. I know Elsa. I know how she can be when she feels, nevermind, I know she must have said something unkind to you. What did she say?"
"A less kind version of truth?"
"Whose truth?"
"Does it matter?"
"I think so. The only truth that should matter is your own. What did she say, Maria?" Max pressed, his tone more serious than she had ever heard him before.
"It doesn't matter, Herr Detweiler. Truly."
"Max," he stressed, "It does matter. I would like to help, if I could. I have known Elsa for a long time and Georg even longer. I confess, I haven't seen him like this-well," Max cut himself off as if he thought better of what he was going to say and Maria looked up at him, searching the normally sanguine man and finding a serious expression on his face she was certain she hadn't seen.
"He rarely shows such emotion publicly, ever. What happened?"
"She reminded me that I was going to be a nun, quite rightly I might add, ...and that perhaps I shouldn't… She told me that I was being obvious about my feelings for the Captain and that while he might enjoy toying with me in the long run I wasn't the type of woman he-"
Max hissed through his teeth, "She did not."
Maria nodded and looked down at her shuffling borrowed shoes.
"And the worst part of it was that I think she might have been right."
"No. She might have been jealous."
"Of me?"
"Of you."
"But I am nothing like her. I haven't any money, no beautiful clothes or home in Vienna, I am not elegant or-"
"And yet you needed none of those things to walk away with Georg's attention time and again."
"But I never meant too!"
"And that is no doubt what made her act as she did. You did it without calculation, without an agenda, and all on your own merits," Max grinned, pushing into her back lightly and twirling her before reeling her back in. He let his sharp gaze sweep the room and found his quarry standing on the edge of the dance floor, gloves in hand, twisting them in what he could only assume was a combination of jealousy and frustration. Max winked at his friend and enjoyed the little spots of color that appeared on his cheeks. The rare occurrence of the angry flush was telling.
"Was that all?"
"Was what all?" Maria asked.
"All that happened. She accused you of having feelings," Max whispered, giving her a knowing look. Maria dropped her gaze and blushed under Max's frank scrutiny, but he let go of her hand a moment and tipped her chin up, "Ah ah, no need to be ashamed of yourself or your feelings. Too much thinking always ruins the best things, and I should know," he smirked.
"Are you admitting to acting without thinking Herr Detweiler?"
"Naturally. It's why I am the most fun at parties."
"I have the same problem, I tend to say whatever I think and feel without stopping to, well, think," Maria sighed, recalling the numerous times she had been told the same by Sister Berthe.
"I rather yelled at the Baroness after that. Mother Abbess would be ashamed at the way I lost my temper. I-I told her the Captain was honorable and kind and that I realized that he was only humoring a poor orphan girl. I told her I knew my place and she needn't make me feel bad about it," Maria glanced up into the lights of the chandeliers hoping that their heat would burn away the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. "I wouldn't, I won't, let my feelings interfere with my job and that I would be gone by the summer's end."
"Was that all she said?" Max asked gently.
Maria nodded, "There wasn't anything else important."
Max turned over Maria's words in his head, perhaps the situation was nothing more than Elsa being threatened and acting like a spoilt child.
"But," Maria wavered, as though weighing her next words and whether or not she had the courage to say them. Drawing in a breath she rushed forward, "The worst part was that the Captain must have followed us, her, and he overheard everything. I told him I knew he would have to let me go, for my indiscretion with his guest. I offered to leave immediately, I apologized for yelling at his guest and he wouldn't let me leave. He told me the mistake tonight was the Baroness's, that he had enjoyed hearing me dress her down and then he…"
"He what?"
"He told me he was never letting me go."
Max whistled, "Well I'll be damned."
"Me too," Maria whispered as she heard the last notes of the song die out as Max tucked her hand into his elbow and led her off the floor. He guided her over to an empty settee and snagged a glass of champagne and a glass of water from a passing waiter.
"Here," he offered her the champagne flute.
"Oh, I shouldn't have more. I don't really drink often…"
"Tonight you do. We both do. Cheers," he mumbled offering her his water glass to clink against her own.
Maria held up the glass and watched the play of bubbles chasing one another to the top of the glass, "I never had champagne before tonight," she offered before taking a sip.
Max watched her wrinkle her nose at the bubbles and give him a brilliant smile.
"I rather like it, the bubbles are-"
"Decadent on the tongue?"
"I was going to say fizzy but that works better," Maria laughed and took another sip, narrowing her eyes in concentration. "Sister Berthe would not approve," she offered before taking a deeper swallow.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"For what?"
"Being my friend at the dinner party, even though I suspect you wanted to convince me to talk to Captain von Trapp about the festival."
"Clever girl," he chuckled. "You caught me out, but I was delighted by the company. Ah, well I got you into this mess with my selfish invite, but I didn't know what had-"
"You couldn't have anticipated that the Baroness-"
"Yes," he sighed, " I should have."
Max cleared his throat, "Maria, I, well I'm not sure what the right thing to say to you is. You have to live your own life. But, don't give up on him," Max inclined his head across the ballroom and Maria followed his gaze, Captain von Trapp was staring at her. His eyes hooded and rather cold. She shivered and turned away.
"He lost a great deal and I haven't seen him half so, uh, lively as he has been these past weeks with you and the children."
Maria gave a weak chuckle, "Yes, I do seem to bring out the worst in him. I reminded Baroness Schrader of that, how often the Captain and I have cleared a room with our lively discussions."
"He needs it. Someone who isn't afraid to tell him what he needs to hear. To push him."
"The Baroness didn't seem to see it that way, she called it, what was that word she used? Ah, foreplay?"
Max spit out a mouth full of water and Maria clapped him on the back.
Still sputtering as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand he turned his wide eyes on her before grabbing her champagne glass and downing it, "She called it that did she?"
"What does it mean?"
"It means you should ask Georg the next time you seem to be in the middle of an argument. And on that note I shall be switching to something stronger than water. I can't be expected to fix this sober." Max grinned and surveyed the ballroom, noting Georg and Elsa standing in a corner having a conversation with smiles painted on their faces but hands clenched in fists.
Max felt his eyes rolling for what must have been the hundredth time that night and he leaned down to pat Maria on the shoulder, "If you'll just excuse me a moment dear I'll go find that drink and be right back."
He barely waited for Maria to nod in assurance before he stalked, casually of course, a Dettweiler did not run, across the ballroom and forced his way between Elsa and Georg.
"Well, well! Are we sharing secrets in the corner like schoolboys? You know I hate to be left out of the fun...and if I noticed then surely other people will too."
"Elsa was just explaining to me what on earth I walked into upstairs-"
"I was doing nothing of the sort. Everyone's emotions are high tonight and I won't have you toying with them in a ballroom. Besides, I did you a favor."
"A favor? What you did was beyond-"
"It was perfectly within my rights-"
"Rights? In my home-"
"Is that how it will be, your home when are married?"
"Married? You would marry a man you called, what was it? On a conquest?"
"Really Georg, this is childish and-"
"God damnit!"
"Georg!" Elsa admonished, glancing up at the Captain who staring hard across the ballroom at something.
"Surely he wouldn't be this stupid twice in one night?" Georg muttered, stalking off across the room and heading directly for Maria and the ever oily Herr Zeller who had a hand gripped around Maria's wrist.
