IN VINO VERITAS

CHAPTER 5

A/N: This story was not submitted to a beta yet. However, it has been throughly revised and expanded, and another new chapter added. A little warning - the changes made the story a bit darker, and probablymore controversial. So, if you like to see Georg and Maria as practically perfect in every way, maybe you should stay away from this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Sound of Music, etc.

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Drink wine, and you will sleep well.

Sleep, and you will not sin.

Avoid sin, and you will be saved.

Ergo, drink wine and be saved.


Medieval saying

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Over the wine-dark sea.

Homer
Iliad, I. 350

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Maria slept very little. She did not spend the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, wondering what could have happened if she had taken that final step towards the Captain, or if there had been no loud sound of a banging door to startle them both. Nor she wondered how things would have been if she had turned around when she heard him calling her name just as she was leaving the attic. And later, just as she was closing her curtains, when she saw him walking alone in the rain, towards the lake – she tried not to imagine what could happen if she gave into the temptation of following outside, to the gazebo.

She spent the rest of the night in prayer.

First she asked for forgiveness for her unusual thoughts about Captain von Trapp. Unusual because she refused to call them any other name. If by unusual she meant just that – inconceivable, strange or awe-inspiring -, rather than sinful or lustful, she had no idea at all, and she had no wish to find out at the moment. All she needed was her mind back to what always had been her only goal in life – to become a Benedictine nun.

Second, she prayed for courage to do her duty as a Catholic, and a postulant of Nonnberg Abbey, and go to confession in the Aigen parish church as soon as possible – she prayed that Father Wassner had the same gentle and understanding nature of Sister Margaretta. Even though she knew it would probably the priest who would show her how to get back to the right path, she dreaded the fact that she would have to reveal to a priest such intimate feelings about a man who was so as away from her as the Pope was to him. Never before in her life, until now, did she have any trouble with going to confession, even when she had taken the consecrated wine. It usually meant relief to her guilty conscience. This time was different – not only she sensed that the act of confession would bring her any peace, but also that it would make her feel even worse, her conscience even heavier.

She whispered every prayer in her prayer book, went through countless rosaries. Only when the storm had long gone, and she saw the pink light of dawn coming through her window, she felt reasonably in peace; with her head clear enough to face another day in the Trapp villa. Unfortunately, by then she only could allow herself one hour of sleep before it was time to begin her duties again.

She decided that the best thing to do was to pretend that the previous night had never happened, and act as normally as possible. It was unlikely that the Captain would remember most of it, at least not word for word. Her uncle used to behave like a beast from hell when he had a little too much to drink and in the next day he claimed to remember very little. That was what he always said, although she had never quite believed him. Not that being sober had ever been an improvement on her uncle's temper.

The difference was that the Captain was most definitely not her uncle. Captain von Trapp´s glare only would be enough to give her only living relative a heart attack, or send him running for dear life like a frightened rabbit. She doubted that one bottle of a bad wine would be enough to turn her employer's clever mind into mush, or would drive him to do things he might regret later, like it did to her uncle. No, it had not been the wine; she was clever enough to realize that – or at least not only the wine. He had to be brooding about the things he had said for weeks, and the wine had only given him the courage to speak to her. Yes, he had indeed spoken too much, said things that deeply disturbed her. The mere thought of it was enough to make her blush.

What made it more intriguing was that he had not, in any moment, been disrespectful, he had never let go of his aristocratic persona. He made no attempt to touch her. No, he had lured her to him, like the dragon in her dream, but he had not forced her to follow him wherever he wanted to lead her. He might have pushed her into revealing things about her that she kept buried and hidden, however, on the other hand, he said things about his past, about his previous marriage that Maria doubted he would reveal to anyone else, let alone a mere governess.

In the end, his message to her had been clear. He did not know anything about her life, and he did not have to. He had come close to saying he did not want to. However, he had been incredibly, wickedly insightful about some hidden aspects of her life that, until very recently, she completely ignored. Like the dragon in her dream, who not let her hide from him, and would find her wherever she was. The point was that, whatever happened to her family, Maria had been left with nothing. And she had chosen the convent because there were no alternatives left to her, or because she had been too scared to face anything else.

Was that true? – Maria wondered. If she'd had a happy, normal childhood, would she still be a postulant at Nonnberg Abbey?

Yet, other than the insight into her inner soul, there was something else that troubled her even more. Something so ordinary, so simple, something that could be as meaningful as it could be meaningless: He called her by her first name. Just as she was leaving, he did. She heard it well. Oh, she doubted she would ever hear it again. Soon she would be back to the shouted "Fräulein!"´s and he would be pestering her again about some obscure little rule she had broken, or something else. He would be back into his impenetrable shell again, back to being a complete enigma.

"Oh Lord, please, let that happen! Let him continue yelling his "Fräulein!"´s and blowing that whistle at me," she pleaded silently. "Don't think about it," she whispered, descending the stairs, trying to convince herself of the impossible. "If you don't think about it, maybe, just maybe, it never happened. If it did not happen, then everything will be the same today."

Maria sighed in relief, and quite audibly, when she saw that the breakfast table looked the same as it usually did every single morning. The children were already there, chatting, and so was Herr Detweiler, who had just pulled a coin from behind Brigitta´s ear. The Baroness was nowhere to be seen, but that was nothing out of the ordinary, because she never ate that first meal with the family, preferring to linger in bed until late morning and having her breakfast brought to her by her personal maid.

After Maria answered to the children's greetings and apologized for being just a little late, her gaze went automatically to the head of the table, as she braced herself by one of the Captain's scathing remarks, and she held her breath.

"Oh!"

She could not hide her small disappointed moan when she saw that the Captain was not there, at his usual place, his head hidden behind his newspaper, answering to her lively "Guten Morgen!" with a barely audible grunt… He was simply not the most talkative person in the morning!

"Odd, isn't it, Fräulein?" Max remarked to her, as she took her place. "Strange indeed. The Captain late for breakfast – that would give the crew of the U-14 he commanded something to talk about for weeks! The last time this happen was about seven years ago when he had indulged into that bad Bordeaux he still keeps in his cellar. I had warned him about that appalling vintage, but he would not listen to it."

"Oh yes, the Bordeaux…"

The Captain had mentioned it the night before. A couple of days ago the last thing she would be able to picture was Captain von Trapp nursing a hangover. The thought was enough to make Maria smile inwardly.

The children began to express their worries about their father too, and Friedrich volunteered to go upstairs and check on him. That was when she decided it was time to intervene.

"It will be all right, I'm sure, Friedrich. Your father stayed up a bit too late last night," she bit her lips and stopped. They were all staring at her. Including Franz, who was hovering around the table, as usual – if there was something out of ordinary going on in the von Trapp household, he was not going to miss it for the world. They were certainly wondering how on earth she knew that. Instantly, Maria remembered the Captain's comment about how easily the ugliest rumors could begin, and once more cursed herself for her absolute lack of verbal control. "I heard him playing the piano in the attic," Maria explained, her voice lower, looking straight at Herr Detweiler, who was staring at her with the most puzzled look in his face.

"Georg playing the piano? Are you sure, Fräulein Maria, that you did not drink some of that Bordeaux yourself?" he asked, amused.

Maria tried not to choke on her coffee.

"He never plays the piano in the attic," Louisa challenged, with a sly glance towards her. "He never played anymore, since mother died. Not even a note."

"He did last night!" exclaimed Maria, nonchalantly. The truth was that she too was starting to worry a little – he had been walking in the rain after she left him, hadn't he? What if he were sick, lying in bed with a high fever, either unable or too proud to ask for help? But she already had revealed too much, she could not also revel she had seen him walking outside. No, she had to find another way.

"Yes, he did, I heard it too," said Liesl. "He played all his old favorites – Rachmaninoff, Debussy and Chopin, of course."

"You see?" Thank you Liesl, Maria said silently, smiling at the girl.

"So that was where the music came from!" Brigitta exclaimed. "I heard it too, but I thought it was Uncle Max playing the gramophone."

"Good heavens, no! I slept like an innocent babe last night!" sneered Max. "Besides, I have no respect for those silly modern gadgets. I rather be caught dead than listening to Mozart played in one of those things rather than by a live orchestra."

"It wasn't Mozart," Brigitta tried to correct him.

"I don't understand. He hasn't touched that piano since mother died," said Kurt.

"Well, has not done many things since then that he is doing again now. The piano is just another one," suggested Friedrich.

"Friedrich is right," Liesl said. "A month ago could any of us gave imagined father joining us in a song? Or let us stage a puppet show?" Five children shook their heads. Liesl´s eyes widened, as the idea occurred to her. "Fräulein, do you think that means we'll have the piano back in time for the ball? I am sure the Baroness would love the idea."

"Yes!" some of the other children exclaimed.

"Maybe he could play for us!" Gretl yelled, excited. "I have never heard him play before!"

"Oh… Ehm… I don't know, children. Only time will tell – isn't that what they say? We have to wait and…" Her voice trailed away as the sound of other voices approaching the dinning room were heard. "Oh no…"

Soon enough, Elsa's velvety voice was recognized, followed by the Captain's unmistakable low chuckle. Max, who had been following the exchange between Maria and the children in silent amusement, turned around in his chair to greet them.

The Baroness's "good morning" was cheerful enough, but the Captain's words were gruff, and barely audible. Other than that, at first Maria did not detect any ill effects from the previous night. He seemed more impeccably, elegantly dressed than ever. The infallible tie was back, as well as the neatly combed hair. From head to toe, he looked his part – the handsome and very aristocratic sea captain.

"Well, well, well! Look who had decided to join us poor, lowly mortals for breakfast!" exclaimed Max. That earned him a warning glance from the Captain, which was enough for Maria to notice that his eyes were slightly bloodshot. Max turned to Elsa. "What happened to you, my darlings? Georg, you look positively ghastly. What have you done to yourself? And you, dear Elsa, did you fall off the bed?"

"Oh Max, don't be a beast! I had the most terrible night, and I could not sleep a wink," the Baroness immediately replied.

"It seems that nobody slept well. Except for me, of course – a pity, because it seems that it was a remarkably interesting night!" exclaimed Max. "Ask Fräulein Maria," he finished, looking at her, his eyes full of mirth.

The not so innocent remark was enough to make Maria blush slightly, but the mention of her name set her face on fire. Her eyes widened instantly. Even Herr Detweiler, whom she used to think barely knew who she was, now was firing his innuendos at her? What was wrong with those people? She immediately dropped her eyes to her plate, hoping that the Captain did not pay attention to his friend's remark, but she still kept her ears in the conversation. The children too remained unusually quiet.

Fortunately, the Baroness ignored Max's mention of her person. "Not for me," she pouted. "Don't look so disappointed, Max. You almost make me wish I had something naughty about last night to tell you."

"I am sure you'll think of something naughty if you only make an effort," Max teased. Elsa giggled and winked at him.

"Max!" the Captain warned hoarsely, just as he was taking his seat.

"Anyway, when I finally decided to have breakfast with you all at this uncivilized hour, look who I run into!" Elsa nodded towards the Captain. "Can you believe that the Captain was actually considering deserting us to have breakfast in the quietness of his room?! Naturally, I could not allow it."

"I am unforgivably late, Elsa, there is no need to stress the point," Georg said churlishly, and with that, he buried his nose behind his morning paper, a very clear sign that he did not wish to be disturbed. Maria nearly sighed in relief – the last thing she wanted, at least that morning, was to be under his line of fire. She needed a few hours… maybe even a few days to fully recover from that strange night, so that she would be able to act normally when he was around, at least in a way that did not make her feel like she was a lousy actress in a badly staged play.

"Where were you last night, Fräulein Maria?" Louisa asked, abruptly.

Again, an ominous silence fell on the table. Maria startled, and her head shot up, automatically, towards the Captain. His face was still hidden by the newspaper, but she could see, even from a distance, that his knuckles were white, gripping the paper with unnecessary force, and that his hands were tense.

"Well… I… I was… Ehm… How did you…"

"Gretl and I were upset by the storm again, but we could not find you in your room. So we went to Louisa's," said Marta.

Maria was still struggling to find the right answer. Her distress was noticeable to everyone, most of all by the three adults in the opposite end of the table. Elsa and Max were staring at her, curiously. The Captain neatly folded his newspaper, and for the first time, looked straight at her.

"This is what it must feel like, to be hit by a torpedo," Maria thought. There was something in his eyes, something different – a knowing light, perhaps. He was looking at her differently, and she was not sure she liked it or not. She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Yes, Fräulein, where were you?" he asked ironically, raising his eyebrows.

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared back at him, angrily. For a brief second, she actually considered telling everyone on the table - his seven children, Herr Detweiler, the future Baroness von Trapp, and even Franz, who could barely hide his curiosity – exactly where she had spent a good part of the previous night. It was, after all, was what her old, outspoken self would do in a blink. She was not that same person, however – dealing with Captain von Trapp and his family had made her wiser, more careful.

"I heard a door slamming downstairs and I went down to check it," she replied evenly. Recovering a little of her old spirit, she added.

"Uh - which door?" he fired.

"Your study's," Maria replied evenly, and with a touch of anger, which, as usual, made her voice drop a couple of octaves. "Be careful, Captain, if you want to start a war, I might just give you one," she thought.

"I always keep it locked when I am not there," he said smoothly.

"Why are you doing this?" she wanted to ask, as she looked at him desperately. Her despair lasted for only a heartbeat, and it turned to anger again. "Why don't you let it go? Just don't think about it, because it did not happen. It would be so much easier for all of us," she wanted to yell at that impossible man.

"It wasn't locked last night. I checked all the doors, as a matter of fact." Before he could retort again, she asked. "Where were you, Captain?" Revenge could be sweet after all – it that was a war he wanted… He stopped cold, and his face became a mask – a good indication that her target had been hit. "The children would like to know," she added, disingenuously.

He smiled dangerously. She could almost read his thoughts, and that was… very, very unsettling. He seemed to be warning her. "Don't even try to play this game; you little fool… not without knowing the rules first!" It was a reminder that he was the Captain, and he would not simply give up without a fight. He rose to her challenge.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"Why what?" she frowned at him.

"Didn't I specifically ask you the other day not to answer my questions with another question?" he snapped, dropping his fork.

"I would not have to, if your questions were not so… ehm… obscure, Captain!"

"Obscure?" Again, the raised eyebrows. He went on with scathing irony. "Very well, I will bring out the light. The children went to you, not to me, because of the storm. How on earth did they know I was not in my bedroom? How the devil did you know I was not in my bedroom?" He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving her. He seemed to be savoring her embarrassment, as if he enjoyed making her squirm. That was what he had done to her most of the previous night. Nevertheless, they had been alone, and now their verbal battle was being witnessed by at least the other people, who turned their heads from one to another, as if they were watching a tennis match.

"Just hit him with the truth," a voice inside of her spoke. No, not the truth about their midnight conversation, but another one, another revelation that she knew could make him squirm, just a little.

"The children heard you playing the piano in the attic, Captain," she said as evenly as she could. "I heard it too!"

"Hah!" he exclaimed.

"Typical," she thought. "That is what he usually says when he does not know what to say…" But her triumph did not last for long. This time he leaned forward in his chair, and stared at her fixedly:

"And how, may I ask you, Fräulein, did you know it was me?"

"Was that you?" the Baroness turned to him in complete surprise, unknowingly saving both Maria from further embarrassment, because his question had rendered her absolutely speechless. "Oh my, my, darling! I thought it was just Max playing with that new gramophone he brought from Vienna."

"For God's sake, Elsa," Max protested. "You know I cannot stand those blasted things."

"Unless you can make money with them," the Captain remarked. "Which is, by the way, what you have been trying to do while calling Rome, Paris and Stockholm on my telephone?"

Much to Maria's relief the conversation shifted after that – she and the children were apparently forgotten by the trio at the head of the table. The sly glance the Captain threw her, just as she and the children excused themselves from the table was enough to convince her that the night in the attic would go on haunting her for a very, very long time.