With Your Whole Heart
Until today, Maria thought she'd entirely forgotten how to cry. For so many years, she'd carefully hidden her feelings behind a cheerful smile, not letting the hurt, fear and anger show. As a child, she hadn't wanted to give her brutal uncle the satisfaction of knowing how much she was suffering. Later, she was afraid she'd be sent away from Nonnberg if anyone were to guess how desperately lonely and out of place she felt.
Now, here she sat in her bedroom at the villa, her heart broken into a million pieces. And it felt as though every tear she hadn't let herself cry in the years since her mother's death was making an appearance at last, rolling down her face, soaking the satin quilt. It felt good, actually. To know that, at last, she had fallen as far as she could fall. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. She had no family, no money. She couldn't go back to Nonnberg, not after what she'd confessed to Reverend Mother earlier today. She had let herself believe, for one magical afternoon, that the man she was in love with would love her back. She had survived a humiliating confrontation with him and his bride-to-be. And now what?
Maria sighed deeply. Washing her face might be a very good place to start. The children had already eaten dinner, but she wanted to put the younger ones to bed. She would say goodbye to all of them properly this time before she left the villa for good, as quickly as she could make an arrangement to go – anywhere at all, anywhere but here. She shook her head at what she saw in the bathroom mirror, hoping that the angry red blotches and swollen eyes wouldn't scare off the little girls, and that the older ones would continue to overlook her ill-fitting borrowed dress.
A few splashes of cold water helped considerably and she let the water run, trying to summon up the soothing sound of a mountain stream tumbling its way downhill. Her eyes lingered on her reflection a moment longer. It was not your imagination, she told the girl in the mirror. It was not. It had been going on for weeks, the accidental encounters, the awkward silences, the tender smiles. The wit, the charm sent her way …. and the Laendler, when he held her so close to him, she knew he'd been about to kiss her, when the air about them was so charged she thought they might burst into flames.
She hadn't heard the knock on the door over the sound of running water, but when she left the bathroom, Captain von Trapp was standing in the middle of her bedroom, his back to the closed door to the hallway.
His presence filled the room, just like it did everywhere. But something was different about him. There wasn't even a vestige of his usual confident self-assurance; gone was the unreadable mask he'd worn when he greeted her on the steps. His face was soft and open, the way it had been the day he'd come back from Vienna, or during those first moments after the Laendler. And it was impossible to miss the longing in those deep blue eyes.
"Maria."
He hadn't ever called her by name before, and that threw her, but she quickly steadied herself. She couldn't imagine what was going to happen next, but she knew what she had to do to get through it.
"Captain. Was there something you wanted? You shouldn't be here like this. In my room."
"Maria," he repeated, "I just wanted to – please. Please let me try to explain."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Captain. There's no explanation required," she said evenly.
He gave a little indignant huff of annoyance and shook his head. "You've been crying. Don't deny it." But then his voice softened. "Maria. Why did you run away to the Abbey? And what was it that made you come back?"
Maria took a deep, steadying breath. "I had an obligation to fulfill, and I came back to fulfill it."
"Is that all?" he asked, but he quickly answered his own question. "You know that's not all, and so do I. I want a truthful answer to my questions."
"Captain. Please." Her eyes filled with tears. Was there no end to the humiliation he would cause her? "Please don't make me do that. Don't make me say it," she pleaded.
"Well, then, I'll have to be brave enough for the both of us," he countered. He took a step toward her, but when he saw her shrink away from him, he stopped. "All right," he said, gently. "Does this help you? There was something between us. Maybe even from the beginning, I don't even know anymore. It took me so long to see it. To see what you had come to mean to me. And then when I did, I didn't know what to do."
He began to pace the room, running his fingers through his hair. "Lost. I was lost. Like never before. I didn't know which way to turn. At the beginning, I didn't want to interfere with your plans to go back to Nonnberg. But after a while, I knew that you didn't belong there and I wanted – I want, you to have the life you deserve. Not locked up there because you have nowhere else to go."
Maria opened her mouth to protest, but he waved her back into silence and went on. "It wasn't what you think. I do not lust after the help. Anyway, until this summer, I had thought that was all behind me. Lust. Love, for that matter. I won't lie to you. I wanted you. But I would never have done anything to hurt you. Not for anything."
It didn't change anything, and yet the simple fact that he'd admitted it, given a name to the feelings that had grown between them, was enormously comforting. She should have listened to her heart and not Baroness Schrader the night of the party. She would be treasuring his confession for the rest of her life, she knew.
"When you left," he went on, "I was heartbroken. But relieved, in a way, that you had been strong enough to make a difficult decision for both of us. If I'd known you were coming back…"
Maria felt the tiniest flutter of hope deep within, and somehow, she found her voice. "What difference would that have made?"
He stopped abruptly and looked out the window for a long moment before answering. "None," he said at last. "None at all."
Her heart turned to ice. "What do you mean?"
"Elsa," he said heavily, before resuming his pacing. "You must understand, Maria. I promised to marry her, months ago. That's why I brought her here to Salzburg. It was her idea, actually, the marriage. She came to me last year, when her husband died. I knew – everyone knew – he was trouble, but I had no idea how bad things were. He'd beaten her for years, it turns out, but never so it showed. He refused to give her children. He'd spent every penny, sold everything they had. She had nothing."
He turned to Maria.
"Elsa told me everything about the night of the party. About how she deliberately scared you away. She was worried I'd back out of our agreement. I know you don't want to hear this, Maria, but she is not as strong as you are. She thinks she can't survive without me – not only my money, but my name, my position. And she may be right. She shouldn't have done it, treated you that way. But the fact of the matter is, I made her a promise and I have to keep my word. Elsa – in those first years, after Agathe died, she saved my life. Quite literally. She was mired in that hell of a marriage, but she sat by my side every night, pried the bottle out of my hand time and again, hid the knives and guns until I found it possible to consider going on with my life."
He came up close to Maria, and took her hands in his. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. The words continued to pour out of him.
"When you left, Maria, I couldn't believe it. I knew you felt something for me. At first, I couldn't understand, couldn't accept it. And then when Elsa told me what she had done – I was angry at her, but I could hardly ask you to come back, could I? I could only hope that you had decided you could be happy going back to the Abbey. I haven't prayed for years, Maria, but I prayed that was true. Because I want nothing more than I want your happiness, and it's the one thing I can't give you. Please try to understand," he pleaded. "I won't ask you to forgive me, but try to understand. I never dreamed I would want a woman again. Fall in love again. I thought that was behind me."
It was hard to focus on what he was saying, hard to think of anything except the warm strength of his hands folded around hers.
"You don't love her," Maria whispered.
She already knew it was a fact, not a question, but still she was grateful that he shook his head, because it gave her the courage to ask the only question left to ask: "You love me?"
He stared at the floor, and she watched the set of his jaw, the way he was trying to control himself before he finally looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "I do. I will. Forever."
That moment changed everything, and yet, Maria realized, nothing had changed at all. She pulled her hands away.
"Then I must go. I can't stay," she said, her voice shaking. "It would be torture, to watch you put your honor above your happiness. And mine."
"I understand," he said somberly. "I have no right to ask you, but there is a part of me that wants to ask you to stay-"
She cut him off. "For the children, no doubt."
"Not as my governess," he gritted. "For me. Because I can't start the day without your smile. I can't get through it without your voice. Because the simple hope of encountering you during the day means everything to me. Do you want me to beg you? Because I will, but I will warn you, also. If you stay here, I don't trust myself to stay away from you. Even a so-called honorable man like me. I'm not strong enough to resist and I can't keep pretending much longer. "
He shook his head. "I know what I should do. Shoo you away. Into the arms of some young man who can make you happy . So you can forget about me."
"I will never forget you," she said fiercely.
Deep inside, Maria felt something shift: a shock of recognition, like she'd discovered she possessed a magical power that could help her achieve a dream she hadn't wanted to admit to, that she didn't even know was within reach. What would happen, she thought wildly, if she agreed to stay? She had to choke back a giggle at the memory of his casual reply the night of the dinner: "You can if you want to, Fraulein." Apparently, things had changed for him. She could hardly believe the possibilities that raced through her brain.
Nor could she believe the next unlikely words that flew from her mouth. "I am not Jane Eyre."
He gave a puzzled grimace. "Who, may I ask, is that? And what does she have to do with this?"
"It's a novel," Maria explained . "An English novel from the last century. Jane – she's a governess. She comes to take care of a little orphan girl and falls in love with the girl's guardian. Mr. Rochester. He's a recluse, ill-tempered and gruff…"
"Ah. I see the connection now," he said, a note of amusement lightening his voice.
"Oh, no, no," Maria protested. "He's not like you at all. For one thing, he's quite-" Looking at the floor, she felt her cheeks turn pink. "He's quite ugly, actually." She peeked up at him and bit back a smile at the way his eyes flew to the mirror for a moment before returning to her.
"Anyway, they fall in love, and they are in church being married when it's revealed that he's already got a wife. An insane woman he was tricked into marrying. He begs Jane to stay. To be his mistress." She blushed again, but pushed on to make her point. "Jane says she can't stay because, of course, it would be immoral for her to do such a thing. And she leaves, she hasn't got any money and she almost starves to death, and…"
He interrupted. "I will not let you starve, Maria. You can have all the money you need." He began pacing again, as though working out the business arrangements in his head.
"I do not want your money," she flared. "That wasn't my point, anyway. Stop changing the subject!"
"You brought up the money," he pointed out, but she waved him away. She was going to lose her nerve if he didn't stop interrupting her.
" My point was that he asked her to be his mistress. He was not as honorable as you are. But I'm not like Jane, either. That was my point," she finished awkwardly.
He swung around to face her. "What do you mean?'
"I said that I would not refuse him," she fumbled. "I mean you. I would not refuse you," she added weakly.
A thick silence filled the air, one filled with excitement and fear and possibility and something dangerous Maria couldn't quite name.
"Are you mad? You don't know what you're saying." He shook his head. "Not – well, coming from where you came from."
"You know perfectly that I don't belong at Nonnberg. And it's fitting, in a way. You know how I feel about rules," she added, shakily. Her heart was racing and she had to hold herself back from begging him. It would only work if he wanted her as much as she wanted him. And she knew, now, that she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything. She felt wild, reckless, knowing she had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
"I can't," he said. "I can't give you what you deserve."
"No," she said slowly, "but you can give me what I want."
"You have idea what you're saying," he lectured her, pacing the room once more, sounding exactly like he had the day they'd met. But she knew him better, now, knew the signs of a man trying desperately to regain control of a battle he had already lost. She wasn't sure which one of them he was trying to convince. "Skulking around like that. Not acknowledging the way I – the way we feel. You couldn't live that way, and I couldn't I live with myself if I let you. The guilt would tear us apart. And another thing: you would never have a family of your own, never…"
"This is the first place I've ever lived where I've been happy. I've learned to fight for every scrap of joy I can find," she argued. "What right do you have to take that from me?"
"You don't know the risks, Maria. You don't know what you're saying. Do you have any idea what could happen to you?"
A grim chuckle escaped her lips. "I know this sounds ridiculous under the circumstances, but the only thing I do know is that you – you are the most honorable man I know. I trust you. You have my heart already. Can't you please let the rest of me stay with it?"
Suddenly, he took a long stride or two toward her until he was standing very close, so close their toes almost touched. She knew it was a test, that he was trying to intimidate her, but she held her ground. She'd never been this close to him before, except during the brief minutes of their dance, but she felt herself relax instinctively into his presence, into his familiar scent, feeling his warm breath against her face. Was that her heart thundering, or his? It hardly mattered. Her eyes sought his and they stood, lost in each other, for what might have been an hour, or a day, or a lifetime. There was no going back. All he had to do was touch her.
He lifted a hand until it floated just above her cheek; she answered the question in his eyes with a tiny nod and then he drew her face to his and kissed her gently. It surprised her, that kiss – it was so soft, so tentative for a man like him, and he pulled away from her long before she was ready for it to end.
"You believe me, don't you?" he asked. "I was married all those years and never. Not even once. The thought of another woman never even crossed my mind. You know that, don't you?"
Maria lifted her fingers to his lips to quiet him. "And I've been living in a convent. Promised to God. None of that matters. I'm yours, and you know it."
"God help me," he said hoarsely, and then he pulled her into his arms, lifting her clear off her feet and fitting her body to his as his mouth found hers. This kiss was a revelation, a shockingly intimate one that went on for a very long time, one that she felt down to her toes and everywhere in between. With that kiss, he gave himself up to her completely, she knew, and while she wasn't sure she knew everything she should about kissing, she gave herself back to him wholeheartedly.
At last he pulled away from her and tried to speak. "Maria. Darling. Listen to me. .." but she'd had enough talking and reasoning and arguing and listening, and so she threaded her fingers through his hair and determinedly brought his mouth back to hers. She felt him smile against her mouth and give her what she wanted, but then at last he pulled away and held her at arms' length.
"Well, " he gasped. His eyes burned bright in his flushed face. "I guess that settles that."
She laughed in joy and relief. "Now what?"
His face turned serious. "I want you to think about it."
"Think about it? Are you serious? After that? I can't think about much of anything else except…" she blushed, not sure how to finish the sentence.
He was looking away, toward the window, as though he couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm leaving tomorrow, Maria. That is, we are leaving tomorrow after breakfast. Elsa and I. To go to Vienna. To get married."
She felt her heart turn over in her chest. "A wedding? So fast?"
"Hardly even a wedding, really. We're just doing it as conveniently as possible. It wouldn't really be – suitable to make a fuss under the circumstances, don't you see? No children. No party. Elsa will stay on in Vienna for a few weeks, to settle her affairs and such, but I'll be back in a few days. We can talk about – about things more when I return."
"I see," she murmured, "I just didn't realize…"
He caught her hand up in his. "Maria. This is what it's going to be like. I can't change it. I want you desperately, but not if it's going to make you unhappy. That's what I want you to think about while I'm gone." He raised her hand and kissed her palm. "Think about it. Take your time. Take as long as you need. And no matter what you decide, you have my word, I will see that you are taken care of. Nothing else has to happen between us unless you want it to. My honor is in tatters after today, but I can still keep that promise."
"I'll be here," Maria said, dazed, looking around her room. Coming from Nonnberg, this room had always seemed so comfortable and elegant, though she knew it was modest by the villa's standards. She could hardly believe everything that had happened in this room since – that ugly confrontation with the Baroness, and now Captain von Trapp professing his love, asking to become her lover.
"I'll be here," she repeated, because she didn't really know what else to say.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Maria moved through the next few days feeling like she was sleepwalking, and no wonder, since it was difficult to believe that any of it was really happening.
For example, the very next morning, on her way into breakfast, she paused outside the dining room when she heard Baroness Schrader speak her name. "Georg, please. You talk to Maria. She trusts you. Find out what Maria wants and give it to her. If you are not going to let me send them to boarding school, then I need you to do whatever it takes to keep her here. "
Maria coughed politely to announce her presence and entered the dining room, but things didn't end there. "Good morning, dear," the Baroness greeted her. "Have you thought any more about it? Staying, I mean. You can name your own terms, you know." Maria had muttered a hasty response and fled, hardly knowing whether to laugh or cry.
After breakfast, the Captain and Baroness Schrader departed for Vienna. Maria could hardly bear the irony – somehow, it had fallen to her to console seven children, to encourage them to give their new mother a chance, when her own feelings swung wildly between elation, hope, grief and despair. She felt suspended, like the moment in between diving off the dock and hitting the water, having left behind everything she'd ever believed about herself, but not knowing where her life would end up.
Maria filled the next three days with the children, grateful for the distraction, but the nights were harder. She said her prayers as usual, for the souls of her parents in heaven and the sisters at Nonnberg, but she didn't ask for anything for herself; she wasn't sure, with everything that had happened, where she stood with God right now, but could only hope He would forgive her. At night, Maria would lay awake and try to do as her Captain had suggested – to think carefully about the consequences of staying to be with him. But she couldn't hold a thought for very long before the memory of his kiss overtook her and followed her into strange new dreams that left her trembling with desire.
On the fourth day, he returned, alone. She felt shy and awkward, but the way the children clustered around him, hungry for hugs and kisses, she was able to avoid his gaze. She heard him greet her, courteously, formally: "Fraulein Maria. I trust you are well?"
"Yes, sir," she replied, looking at the floor, retying Gretl's hair ribbon, looking anywhere she could except for him. "I hope everything went well in Vienna, Captain." She realized for the first time what he'd been trying to tell her. This was impossible! How was she to play the role of governess when the taste of his kiss was still on her lips?
"Fraulein."
Maria looked up to see him smiling. "Yes, Captain?"
"Can you join me in my study after teatime? We should make some plans for the school year."
She felt her cheeks turn pink, but she reminded herself that such conferences were a frequent occurrence. At the appointed time, holding her head high, she knocked on the door of his study, trying to ignore the butterflies that had taken flight in her stomach. She turned to close the door and was taken aback when he stopped her.
"Leave it open, Fraulein."
Her heart sank. Had she misread his signal? Or had he changed his mind after all? But when she drew close to his desk, there was no mistaking the look in his eyes, deep and warm; it felt almost like a caress. He spoke a few sentences about school starting – she didn't understand a word of it – and then his voice dropped.
"There's a room on the third floor. That wing over the master suite that's closed off. The door at the end. Wait until after Franz locks up at midnight." He held out his hand but she simply stared at it until he turned his palm up to show her the key hidden there. "Take this." He raised his voice again, although she barely heard him over the roar of her blood in her ears. "Thank you, Fraulein. That will be all."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
The day crept on, hour after hour, until at last, it was midnight. Maria felt feverish, as though her arms and legs were in danger of melting and leaving her in a puddle on the floor. Somehow, those dreams she'd had at night had followed her into the daytime, so that she had to blink away the images, and shake her head to clear the whispers.
Sometime after midnight, she crept up the stairs in the shadowy dark. Although she was barefoot, she was certain the sound of her footsteps was loud enough to wake the household, but she made it to the room without incident. Holding her breath, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room was almost empty; in the bright moonlight, it was easy to see that all it held was a tattered armchair and – Maria swallowed – a narrow bed. She curled up on the bed, tucking her bare feet beneath her, and waited.
Footsteps in the hall, at last. And here he was, turning to close the door behind him, and then greeting her with an expression of shocked surprise.
"Maria?"
This whole thing was turning out to be more awkward than she'd imagined. Maybe it would have been better for her to remain standing, because what she really needed right now was for him to sweep her into her arms and kiss her senseless. Instead she asked quietly, "What have I done wrong?"
"What's that you're wearing?"
"My – my nightgown. Why?" She realized he was still neatly dressed in the same suit he'd worn at dinner. Blushing, she explained, "I thought we were going, to, ehrm…"
"Ah!" He seemed ill at ease himself. "No. I mean not until... I just intended to, well, talk things out. See what you were thinking. You know."
Now she was mortified, so embarrassed she thought she'd die. Not to mention disappointed, the anticipation of desire turning to ashes. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," she said. "I mean, I haven't changed my mind, I just don't have anything much more to say. I'm sorry I misunderstood the plan for tonight." Rising with as much dignity as she could muster, she added, "Now if you'll excuse me?"
"Don't go! Please. Please, sit down, Maria. I'm sorry. It's fine, really," he assured her hastily. "We can go ahead and… It's just that this room." He looked around. "It's not very suitable, is it?"
She sneezed violently before answering. "I don't see anything wrong with it, except that it's dusty. Why is it so unsuitable?"
He looked toward the narrow bed . "It's not very-" he paused, " - private. I was thinking of an apartment, maybe, or perhaps a hotel."
"You don't have to remind me," she flared. "I know perfectly well that we've got to keep this a secret. I have far more to lose from this than you do, you know."
"Maria. You misunderstand me. I'm not talking about secrecy. I mean privacy for, well…" Was that a smile quirking his lips? "I can't explain it right now. Trust me. Now. Where were we?"
The butterflies were back in her stomach. He stood only a few feet away from her, looking unbearably handsome. Whatever discomfort he might have felt a few moments ago had left his face, and his eyes gleamed with a dangerous light she'd never seen before. That warm melting feeling in her limbs returned. Weak-kneed, she sat back on the bed as she reminded him, "You were telling me that you wanted to, you know. Discuss things. Because if you're not sure…"
He took a step toward her. "I thought of nothing else the whole time I was away, Maria. Nothing. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I just didn't dare to hope that you'd be ready so soon."
Suddenly, Maria wasn't so sure she was ready. The tables were about to turn, she realized, and one thing she knew from a summer of parlor games with her Captain: once he had the upper hand, he never relinquished it. He sat next to her, reaching for her eagerly.
"Wait." She put her hands against his chest to hold him back. "I have some questions."
He laughed. "Of course. Take your time. Out with it."
"Well. First." She wasn't sure how to put it, so she simply blurted it out. "I could have a baby."
She found it reassuring the way he didn't look away or try to evade her question. "I told you, Maria. I will never abandon you. No matter what happens. You don't have to worry about that. That's one easy answer to a difficult question. What else?"
"The second thing is harder. I did think about it, like you asked me. Our being together. But it's you that need to do the thinking."
"What?" he puzzled. "I told you, I'm sure about it. There's nothing I want more."
She shook her head. "Those things you said the day I came back. About honor. And guilt. I want us to be together if you can love me with your whole heart. Your ghosts have caused enough suffering for both of us. If you can't be at peace with this, then I shouldn't stay. I'm not going to bear the guilt for both of us."
Half-smiling, he ran his hand gently through her hair, and she shivered at his touch.
"How can someone so beautiful be so wise? I promise, Maria. I did give it a great deal of thought. I will always regret not being able to give you certain things, but I can assure you that you have my whole heart."
Maria nodded, quietly. And then she added, hesitantly, "I've never – I don't know what to do. How to-" she swallowed, "-love you."
Another quirk of his lips. "You don't have to worry about that. It's not like a test you can study for, you know. You'll know what to do, I promise." She felt his eyes appraising her. "Although that nightgown? It's not what I pictured you wearing, somehow."
She flushed. "It's all I've got."
"I'll have to buy you something more suitable." He grinned at the memory. "The first night you were here, and I came to your room. Furious as I was, I couldn't help noticing how buttoned-up you were in that boxy fortress! And then as soon as we were alone, you clutched a robe on top of it. As though I could have seen anything of you through all of that material."
Maria smiled and shook her head in mock exasperation, but then her eyes found his, dark with desire, and the smile left her face. She looked down, watching his long fingers trace the skin along her collar and slide underneath. His whispered words set her heart racing.
"Maria. Are you ready to show me now?"
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The idea that Maria might consider becoming Georg's mistress popped up briefly in one of my early stories, and I could never quite let go of it, though it took me a while to come up with a scenario that didn't make him seem like a dog. Now that I've met that challenge and set it up, I don't have any immediate plans to pursue it – it seems like there would be a lot of logistics involved and very little fluff! And I have some far more pleasant projects underway. Anyway, please leave me a review and let me know what you think. I don't own anything about TSOM.