"Yes baroness," Maria murmured quietly, praying that her body didn't betray her inner turmoil, "though only until arrangements can be made for another governess.."

And with that, she fixed Georg with one last heartbreaking look that made him want to fall to the floor, before leaving him alone with the fiance he did not love.

"Is it true Georg darling?" Elsa whirled round to face him, attempting to conceal her alarm.

"Yes, I suppose it's true, yes," Georg replied distractedly, willing his body to calm itself in the wake of Maria's heated caresses. He wanted nothing more than to go after her, to explain himself, to finish what he'd to recklessly started. But Elsa was subtly blocking his exit.

"Well I must say I'm a little surprised..," Elsa trailed off, mock concern etching her elegant features.. "I mean... oh never mind."

"What..?" Georg pressed, his eyes narrowing.

"Nothing.. It's nothing..."

It was that infernal 'nothing' again, he was absolutely sick of hearing it, "tell me," he demanded, his patience waning.

She eyed him apprehensively before the impassioned words burst from her.

"Oh Georg, I wasn't going to say anything but now that she's returned so unexpectedly there's something I think you must know.." She gushed emphatically, "I know you don't recall the night of the party and I didn't want to alarm you, or expose the Fraulein for that matter.. She is young and naive after all.. She didn't know what she was getting into.. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it to myself.."

"Get to the point Elsa," Georg replied through gritted teeth. He had a suspicious feeling that her apparent concern for Maria had little to do with the young woman's wellbeing and everything to do with her own selfish motives.

"The night of the party, the governess got very friendly with Herr Zeller, dancing, conversing, for quite a lot of the evening," Elsa lied through her teeth with effortless ease, surprised by her own ability to spin such a tale on the spot. But desperate times called for desperate measures, "I believe he charmed her.. Did I not say he was a very charming man? If I didn't know any better I might've even called their exchanges flirtatious.."

If Elsa's aim had been to shock him, it had worked - but not for the reasons she'd hoped. Of course, she was entirely oblivious to the fact that he'd regained his memory and that he knew full well Maria hadn't even attended the party. She was trying, Georg realised with disgust, to use his amnesia to her advantage - trying desperately to grapple a stronghold on what she believed was rightfully hers as she watched him slip from her grasp. On and on her lies went, rendering him speechless with anger as the blood began to pound in his ears.

"Zeller was asking after your whereabouts when nobody could find you," Elsa continued, oblivious to his face turning to stone, "and the girl said something about knowing exactly where you might be.."

She bit her lip in a worrisome expression, "oh Georg, she led Zeller straight to you darling! God only knows if she was aware of his intentions but it seems she did nothing to stop him once she realised."

Her barefaced lies left him seething with unrelenting rage. He was about to let her have it, to shout until the walls rattled, to enlighten her to the fact that he could recall every last detail of the party and that he saw right through her vicious fabrication - but an intense headache had begun to thump across his skull, the stress of the last hour beginning to take its toll. Still, he willed himself to push on - he needed to put an end to this right now, before he allowed this woman's manipulation to cause any further damage.

"Elsa.." His voice was low and dangerous, loaded with unspoken implications, but she interrupted him before he had a chance to say what so desperately needed to be said.

"Don't be too hard on her Georg darling, please. I'm sure she meant no harm," she pouted, choosing to ignore his icy tone.

"Elsa," he tried again, the headache making it difficult to focus, "there's something else we need to discuss.."

Sensing the rapidly escalating danger of the situation, Elsa employed a rather more drastic tactic to avoid Georg's imminent speech. Flashing a smile and resuming her breezy air of indifference, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. It took everything he had not to recoil in disgust.

"Georg, I'd love nothing more than to talk with you darling but I actually came to find you to tell you there's an urgent matter I must attend to back in Vienna.. "

He sighed in defeat, rubbing a frustrated hand across his forehead as the headache began to worsen into a migraine, colourful spots beginning to pepper his line of vision. Why couldn't she just shut up and let him say his piece? It was as though she knew what was coming and she was doing everything in her power to put off the inevitable.

"I'll be gone three days at most," she stated, "We can talk properly on my return, darling I promise."

"Can't it wait Elsa, I very much need to speak with you now," she didn't volunteer any information about her 'urgent matter' and at that particular point in time he couldn't care less what it was about. The pain in his head was becoming impossible to ignore and was suddenly accompanied by a bout of dizziness as he attempted to focus on the task at hand.

"Later, darling, later," She cooed, watching him stumble backwards slightly and take a shaky seat on the bed behind him, "I've already packed and will need to leave imminently, I'm afraid it really can't be postponed. But I will return in three days as I said." She gave him a wry smile and began to retreat from the room, spotting her opportunity to escape. He didn't need to know what her plans were in Vienna.. He would find out soon enough.

"Elsa.." He tried pitifully, as the migraine rattled around in his skull. He needed to lie down..

"We'll talk in three days darling," she replied more firmly, her voice sounding muffled against the pounding in his head, before she quickly slipped from the room.

Exhausted and utterly defeated, Georg flopped back on the bed with a groan, desperate to rest his eyes. Just for a moment. Just until he could think straight. Just until the headache subsided. And then he would fix this Godawful mess.

When he finally awoke with a jolt, his headache having passed, Georg was perplexed to find that dusk had fallen and the room was cast in shadow. How long had he been asleep? It must've been at least a few hours!

As he rubbed his eyes and willed his brain to switch on, apprehension suddenly dawned on him as he remembered what had come to pass that very afternoon.

Maria!

He sat bolt upright, panicked by the thought of where she might be. As his eyes adjusted to the semi darkness he suddenly noticed her carpet bag and guitar case still tucked away in the corner and he breathed a sigh of relief. He inhaled deeply to ease the thudding in his chest and was met with that heady combination of lavender and roses. A fresh wave of the scent enveloped him, leaving him deeply stirred as he remembered the taste of her tongue in his mouth, the swell of her breasts heaving against his shirt, the impossibly arousing sensation of her innocent sighs against his lips.. Only to stop short when he recalled the look of betrayal in her eyes once they'd been discovered.

He realised, as his looked down at his awakening body, that someone had removed his shoes for him while he'd slept. She must've been in here.

Hurrying from the bed and slipping his shoes back on, he rushed from the room in search not only of his Fraulein, but his children as well. He may not have had a chance to talk to Elsa properly but he still owed Maria an explanation. And he owed his beautiful brood a long overdue apology.

He dashed down the stairs and almost bowled over an unsuspecting Max in his haste.

"Ooof," Max exclaimed as Georg's form collided with his own on one of the steps, knocking the air out of his lungs.

"I'm sorry old man," Georg said sheepishly, helping his friend straighten up, "not quite as limber as we used to be!"

"Speak for yourself, I'm as fit as fiddle!" Max rasped, rubbing his ribs emphatically, "just where are you so eager to get to?"

Georg didn't have time to explain that he was in a desperate hurry to find the governess, that he'd accidentally lost himself to his feelings and pinned her against her armoire in a fierce act of lustful passion. He didn't have time to explain that he'd come to his senses and needed to tell his seven little miracles that he loved them with all his heart.

"Max, where are the children?" He asked hurriedly.

"The drawing room.." Max replied, narrowing his eyes, "the governess is with them..."

Georg met his friend's eye cautiously, suddenly feeling as though he were under intense scrutiny.

"And where's Elsa?" Georg asked, attempting to appear casual.

"She left about an hour ago for an urgent matter in Vienna, did she not tell you?" Max's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Yes, but she didn't explain to me what it was about.."

"Nor me," Max retorted, "though, who knows.. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you were otherwise preoccupied ravishing your children's governess?"

"Wh... What?" Georg stammered, his stomach churning and his eyebrows lost to his hairline as they shot up in alarm.

"Oh please Georg," Max rolled his eyes, exasperated, "you're hardly a young Casanova - did you think you were subtle? You practically chased the girl up the stairs and neither of you were seen for the better part of an hour," he smirked, "it wasn't until I saw Elsa slinking up to find you that I noticed the pink faced Fraulein finally emerging, uncharacteristically mussed and guilty as sin..." His smirk broadened, "the delicious irony of it Georg.. A sinful postulant."

A knowing smile crossed his features and Georg felt very much like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Do you think Elsa knows?" He choked.

"For God sake Georg, I suspect even Gretl knows!" Max snorted, "As I said, you've hardly been subtle."

Georg frowned slightly. If his feelings for Maria had been so obvious, even when he'd been stubbornly oblivious to them, why had Elsa not confronted him?

"She's never said a word.."

"I should think not." Max nodded curtly, "why on earth would Elsa want to draw her fiancés attention to his sordid obsession with the governess?"

"It's not sordid!" Georg snapped, scowling.

"I'm sure if her bedroom walls had eyes, they would argue differently," Max quipped wickedly.

Georg let the comment slide and cleared his throat uncomfortably, "well now that I have your attention my friend, I'd be most grateful if you'd accompany me to the drawing room.. I have a few things I'd like to say to everybody, you included."

Max looked at him curiously but nodded, gesturing for Georg to lead the way.

The children's company that afternoon had given Maria some much needed solace, allowing her to try and forget the way that Georg's touch had burned a fiery path across her skin during their earlier encounter. Never in her life had she experienced such an intense flurry of physical sensations - every vein had thundered, every nerve had sparked, every inch of exposed skin had rippled with goosebumps as his muscular body, all of his body, had possessed hers. She had been reduced to a desperate woman in his arms, coming dangerously close to forgetting all sense of time, place, reason or decorum.. She had never imagined that being with a man, in any sense of the word, could be so utterly exhilerating. She could still taste him, the subtle mix of peppermint and man, could still feel his light stubble against her jaw - and she gave an involuntary shudder as she felt the ghost of his previous touches skate across her breasts. She had felt protected, loved, cherished, desired.. until the Baroness had interrupted them and she was enlightened to the fact that, much to her horror, Georg was still very much engaged.

When he'd raced across the room and whipped her into a lustful embrace, Maria had stupidly assumed that the Baroness was no longer in the picture. Somewhere in the back of her love-drunk mind, she had assumed the Baroness must've returned to Vienna while she'd been at the abbey - for surely Georg wouldn't be pinning her against her armoire and gasping words of adoration against her swollen lips if he were still engaged. But much to her dismay, she had been wrong. Perhaps he wanted a mistress and had assumed she was more than willing - after all, had she not fallen into his arms like a wanton harlot? Regardless of what was to become of her, Maria knew in those moments that she most definitely would never be a nun. How could she possibly consider a life of seclusion and chastity after discovering what a man could do to her body?

When the Baroness had almost caught them, Maria had considered fleeing again. What good was it to stay if, even after regaining his memory, he remained committed to another? But she hadn't been able to leave the children again. When she'd first returned, it had been Georg who had insisted on her imminent departure and so she'd had no choice but to acquiesce to his request - but now that Georg had made it clear he wanted her to stay, a hasty departure would be her own selfish choice - a choice that would break the children's hearts again. And so she vowed to stick to her word - she would stay until arrangements could be made for another governess.

Not half an hour after having been discovered with her employer in her bedroom, Maria was surprised to find the Baroness had made a sudden exit. She wondered what had come to pass after she'd left Georg alone with his fiance and when he didn't show up for dinner, her curiosity got the better of her. It didn't take her long to find him, bizarrely sprawled on his back, on her bed no less, sound asleep. He looked so vulnerable, so childlike with his arms thrown above his head, so adorably unlike the powerful aristocrat, that she had felt an overwhelming rush of tenderness despite everything that had come to pass between them. She had wondered, with a sudden sense of dread as she gently removed his shoes, whether it had been a lustful encounter with the baroness that had exhausted him into slumber. But she rapidly extricated the thought from her mind, the unwelcome image too painful to bear. Not having the heart to wake him and fearing what she might have to confront if she did, she left him to sleep peacefully.

Maria was torn from her troubled reverie by the very man she'd been thinking of as he entered the drawing room, Max following closely behind him.

A rope seemed to tie itself around her lungs suddenly and she found she couldn't meet his eyes, the memory of their previous encounter causing her face to burn hot in his presence.

The children, who had been sprawled on their bellies on the floor in the middle of a board game, had scrambled to their feet and resumed a straight line.

Georg's heart broke as he watched the fear cross his children's innocent faces. How could he have let this happen a second time? They had been subjected to his indifference for four years and had forgiven him without question, welcoming him with open arms - only to be subjected to his neglect all over again when he'd forgotten. Their bravery in confronting him earlier that day filled him with a fierce sense of pride. How courageous they were, how intelligent they were - how headstrong, brilliant, compassionate they were. They're all your little creations, Agathe darling, he smiled to himself.

Silently he approached the line up, aware of Maria's gaze following him across the room. He willed himself to forget those beautiful eyes just for a moment - all that mattered right now were his babies.

Crouching down in front of them, he looked upon each of their apprehensive faces, Louisa and Friedrich so startlingly like their mother - Brigitta, Leisl and Marta not unlike himself. Kurt and Gretl, a stirring mixture of the both of them. Oh how he adored them.

"You know.." He started softly, never taking his eyes off each of them, "there was once a boisterous sea Captain who met a beautiful princess... He loved her with all his heart, so much so, that they had seven beautiful children together.." He watched his brood exchange uncertain glances, unsure of what to make of his bizarre tale and sudden change of character.

"One fateful day, God took the princess from the sea captain and his heart was broken. So broken, that it changed him for the worse. No longer could he see the beauty in the world, no longer could he appreciate how blessed he was," dawning understanding had begun to grace the features of his older children, while the little ones listened on, transfixed.

"That is, until he heard his children singing the princess's favourite song..."

Leisl grinned at him in her understanding and his heart swelled as she nodded encouragingly, willing him to continue.

"Now, it seems this particular sea captain was a little clumsy because he allowed a nasty knock to the head to make him forget.."

Marta gasped adorably as the puzzle pieces slotted together in her little head. Georg grinned as a rush of tenderness filled his body.

"That is, until his incorrigible young son sang that very same song," he stroked an affectionate hand down Kurt's reddening cheek, "and the stubborn sea captain remembered just how much he loved each and everyone of his beautiful children."

A charged silence hung between them as seven pairs of eyes scrutinised him suspiciously, but the tension was broken by an adorable Gretl who's face was scrunched up in confusion.

"I don't get it!" she stamped her foot impatiently and her six siblings fell about laughing.

"He remembers, silly!" Kurt cried, as they all flung their arms around their father at once, causing his knees to buckle beneath him. Before he knew it he was sprawled on his back most uncouthly, with an avalanche of happy children anchoring him to the floor. He realised in those moments, as his belly ached with laughter and his children's innocent voices filled the gaps in his aching heart, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

That night, Georg lay in bed shrouded by a deep sense of peace that he hadn't felt since the very first day he'd heard his children singing all those weeks ago. How blessed he was to earn their forgiveness a second time. It was, and would forever be, more than he deserved.

After they'd bombarded him with fierce hugs in the drawing room earlier that evening, he had asked them all to take a seat so that he could explain, in terms they would understand, just how severely the amnesia had affected him. It was important that they knew, he'd thought, they needed to understand that he hadn't been of sound mind. And he needed Max and Maria to understand it too. He had behaved appallingly and he took full responsibility for his actions - but he needed them to comprehend the severe extent of his confusion, his denial, his fear..

He'd asked Maria to join him in his study then, so that he would finally have the chance to say everything that was still left unsaid. But she had politely refused, reassuring him through quiet whispers that tonight was reserved for his children and his children alone. That they needed him.

He had agreed reluctantly, desperate to tell her again how much he loved her, how much he longed for her. But all he could manage in the company of Max and his children was a whispered plea, a simple, singular word that held so much meaning.

"Stay."

He had risked running a solitary finger down her arm then, unnoticed by the rest of the room - and she had nodded, reassuring him that she would still be here in the morning if he only promised tonight to his children. She had looked utterly breathtaking, almost ethereal as she'd insisted he put his brood first and it did nothing but deepen his longing for her. In the morning.. He would talk to her in the morning.

A restful sleep eventually claimed him as he dreamt of a ship slowly turning back onto its rightful course. He awoke with the sun just as peacefully the next morning and stretched lazily across the bed as the first rays of light cast hopeful beams across the room. He leant over to the bedside cabinet and turned on his radio, as was his habit when he woke up earlier than the rest of the house.

September 6, 1938 - a morning he would never forget for the rest of his life. He listened to the presenter across the crackly wire as a cold, unrelenting dread turned his full heart to stone.

The Anschluss had come.

A/N: completely understand the actual Anschluss occurred on March 12 1938 but, since Maria was at the von Trapp villa during summer time, you'll have to excuse my alteration of the dates. It's necessary in order to fit the story. I hope you liked this chapter - lots still to come!