A/N: this chapter is rated M just FYI. I hope you all like this update, as always I love to hear your thoughts. A huge thanks to those who are still reviewing!

It was only when he was bounding up the stairs, taking two steps at a time in his urgency, that Georg suddenly realised he had no idea which bedroom his wife had fled to. Halting in his tracks at the top of the staircase, he looked to and fro frantically and found himself cursing the size of the house as he was confronted with rows of seemingly identical doors.

Looking to his left again, he was fairly certain that the farthest few bedrooms were occupied by his sleeping children - he remembered having turned left when he'd put them all to bed a mere hour ago. Only the rooms on the right remained a mystery. Whirling round exasperatedly, he threw a curse heavenward and began to march down the corridor.

He was absolutely furious with himself. How could he have behaved so appallingly? He'd been so terrified when confronted with the sudden possibility of bringing an innocent child into a world darkened by war that he'd hardly allowed himself to consider the kind of joy he'd feel in creating new life with a woman as extraordinary as Maria. His heart leapt in his chest unexpectedly at the thought, a fierce love and protective pride coursing through his veins. She was his very own treasure and now it was entirely possible that she was carrying a little miracle, a tiny little creation that was half him and half her.

Of course her potential pregnancy wasn't a burden, he could hardly contain the rush of love flooding his heart as he thought of what they might have created together. It was the uncertainty engulfing their lives, the danger lurking on every corner, the startling realisation that nobody was truly safe - it was that particular burden which had caused his unacceptable reaction. Quite frankly, he was terrified. Terrified of being unable to protect his wife and unborn child.

A low beam of light shone from under one of the doorways and Georg halted outside it, heaving a deep sigh of relief at having located Maria. He took a few steadying breaths as he prepared to face the music, before knocking lightly on the wood. Too ashamed to take his eyes from the floor, he shuffled into the room apprehensively and willed himself to find the right words to penetrate the tense silence.

"Darling.. I can't apologise enough," he murmured to the carpet, fidgeting in his discomfort, "I was such a boar.."

Silence.

"I behaved appallingly.. " he implored, "Please darling, give me the chance to explain myself."

An awkward clearing of the throat from the direction of the bed caused Georg's head to snap up in surprise and he was dismayed to find an extremely bemused Max eyeing him with raised eyebrows from atop the sheets, a book clutched in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. The impresario smirked gleefully and raised the glass he was nursing by way of greeting.

"You? A boar, Georg?" Max's lips curled into a wicked smile, "surely not. What have you done this time?"

"Max!" Georg growled, mortified to have been caught in such a vulnerable state.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," the impresario beamed with mirth, "I take it you're looking for your beloved?"

Georg bit his tongue, unwilling to rise to the bate.

"Helped yourself to the wine cellar already I see," he bristled with unrepressed disdain.

"Naturally."

Georg rolled his eyes and made to leave the room, far more pressing matters occupying his mind. But Max called him back before he had a chance to escape.

"What?" Georg huffed impatiently, turning to face his friend.

"I think you'll find the er.. dog house is outside.."

With another growl of indignation, Georg whirled on his heels and stepped into the hallway, slamming the door a little too hard and leaving Max chuckling mercilessly behind him.

Any heartache caused by Georg's less than frivolous reaction had quickly ceased, replaced instead by a potent mixture of anger and resentment. Maria's scowl deepened as she paced the length of the bedroom repeatedly, muttering various unpleasant adjectives under her breath that best described her husband in those moments. Her silk nightgown, one of many items of clothing the Baroness had been kind enough to purchase ahead of the family's arrival, billowed around her knees helplessly as her pace quickened, and she found that she was lathering herself up into a self-righteous rage. She felt as though she were back in her room in Aigen all those months ago, when her formidable employer had insisted she return immediately to the abbey. How dare he behave so abhorrently in the discovery that she might've fallen pregnant with his child!

Her pacing slowed to a sudden stop. His child.

Could it really be true? She wondered, allowing her hands to run smoothly over her flat stomach. Could they have created the miracle of life together? The thought of a tiny baby, Georg's baby, growing inside her filled her with a sudden warmth that spread low in her back and left her limbs feeling heavy. What a wonderful, beautiful thing it would be, to bare and raise her husband's child!

The warmth that bathed her back began to reach an angry boil again however, when she considered how Georg had tainted the possibility and twisted it into nothing more than an inconvenience. The man was every bit as pig-headed and insufferable as the day she'd met him!

The sudden creaking of the door behind her roused her from her thoughts.

"There you are.." Georg's voice, soft and remorseful, broke her livid reverie and she visibly tensed as she heard him shuffle into the room, the anger twisting dangerously in her stomach.

She stood with her back to him, her shoulders hunched in defence, and Georg breathed a sigh of distress when she said nothing, refusing to turn around and face him. He wondered, with a sense of shame, whether she was crying and simply didn't want him to see her tears.

"Maria," he implored, "please darling.. Allow me to apologise, I behaved appallingly.."

Silence.

"I don't know what came over me," he took a few steps closer, reaching gently for her arm in his attempts to sooth her, "I was a coward, darling, I-"

But the words died on his lips when she spun around abruptly at his touch, and shoved him away from her with a fiery resolve, her glare burning with such animosity that he almost sunk to the floor. If he'd been concerned that she was crying, he needn't have worried, for her eyes were alight only with a passionate determination, her jaw clenched in her righteous anger as she rounded on him like a lion on a gazelle. Entirely stunned, he stumbled back slightly, her advances surprisingly strong where her palms had made contact with his chest, "Maria! What on earth-"

But she was apparently too livid for words, for she took another forceful step towards him like a prowling panther and shoved him again, her face marred with rage. More than taken aback by her fiery disposition, he searched her eyes by way of explanation and was suddenly knocked breathless by what he saw there. Flickering away in her darkening irises, and causing his heart to thud wildly in his chest, was a dangerous mixture not only of anger and hurt but - dared he believe it - desire as well?

And that was his last coherent thought before his wife suddenly threw herself into his arms with a fierce groan of relief, biting at his mouth insistently and grabbing fistfuls of his hair between her fingers. Entirely bewildered, he'd barely managed to catch his breath before her tongue was running over his relentlessly, and the very hands that had shoved him so vigorously only moments ago were suddenly grappling to undo his shirt buttons with a desperate urgency.

Maria wasn't sure exactly what had come over her but when his fingers had brushed her arm she'd found that her raw anger was suddenly accompanied by a startling and fiercely primal desire for the father of her unborn child. It was his seed, his very essence, that had potentially created life inside her and the knowledge left her almost animalistic with a need to be close to him, to be joined with him, to be as close to him as she could possibly be. Shoving his shirt aside and splaying her hands across the bands of muscle on his chest, she found herself giving in to the lethal combination of fury and arousal coursing through her body, shoving him a final time and sending him stumbling onto the edge of the bed.

Georg was entirely incapable of forming a coherent sentence as he watched his wife, a woman possessed, pulling her nightgown over her head impatiently, his mouth agape as she climbed atop his lap. He was entirely astonished by her sudden change of behaviour and he thought briefly of stopping her, of stilling her frantic movements so that he could apologise to her properly, so that they could talk about what had happened. But if he was entirely honest with himself, he found her sudden and angry desperation overwhelmingly arousing. Never before had he seen such a demanding side to his wife, at least not in their most intimate moments, and he was loathe to break the powerful spell that had overcome her as he felt his own need building at an alarming rate.

They hadn't made love since their time in the barn, though Georg could hardly refer to this latest encounter in the same way - for it was anything but loving. There was no intimacy in her actions, no gentleness, no languid teasing - only a frantic and insistent passion that set his body aflame. She was angry with him, that much was certain, but it seemed that desire had won out and her animosity towards him had found a new and powerful outlet in the form of lust. It was utterly intoxicating.

Within moments he found himself splayed on his back by a firm hand, hardly able to keep up as she freed him from the confines of his trousers with effortless ease, pooling his clothing at his ankles hurriedly. Mere seconds later, she was throwing her head back and drawing him slowly into her body, eliciting a low growl from his throat that he could hardly contain. Her full breasts were tantalisingly on display only inches above him and he reached out for them hungrily, only to be left bereft when she caught his wrists mid-air and pinned them back down against the sheets on either side of his head, her eyes burning a hole in his face. When she finally freed him, he tried again, reaching this time for her waist in a desperate attempt to pull her closer. But she pinned him down impatiently for a second time, entirely prohibiting his touch.

"Maria.." He nearly begged, desperate to run his fingers along her silken body - but she quickly covered his mouth with her own, biting down on his lower lip just enough to convey the message that he ought to remain silent. He realised, with a jolt of intense arousal and frustration, that he knew this Maria. It was the very same Maria who had given him a thorough dressing down by the lake in Aigen all those months ago, the same ferocious governess who'd put him in his place with her burning blue eyes and passionate fury. Only now, she was not out-smarting him with her words but with her body, using him chiefly for her own pleasure and denying him any part in helping her achieve release.

She had entirely stripped him of control and he could do nothing but acquiesce to the madness, her desperate intensity driving him to the brink of sanity. It was immensely satisfying and yet overwhelmingly frustrating all at once. To feel her sheathing him entirely but being completely unable to touch her. It tampered with his male pride and he could do nothing to alter the pace, could do nothing to enhance her ecstasy, could do nothing but take what she was willing to give - and he was shocked and elated to hear her demand explicitly and uninhibitedly all the things that she so desperately wanted to take from him.

Panting for breath, he could feel his iron control over his own body slipping already, his release building dangerously at the base of his spine. He couldn't bare the thought of it being over so soon but her frantic need was stirring his body beyond all reason. He had no idea what had elicited such a wild side to his wife but if this was her idea of punishment for his unacceptable behaviour.. well then he'd happily take it a thousand times over.

She rocked frantically against him, her hips driving relentlessly as she moaned her approval, and he watched in fervent awe as she skated her own fingers wantonly across the parts of her body that brought her the most bliss. It was too exquisite to bare, watching her unashamedly deriving her own pleasure without being able to take part himself, and he found his hands fisting in the sheets as he gritted his teeth against the sweet agony of her advances.

It seemed as though her torture would never end, as though she would keep him suspended on the brink for all eternity as she languidly attended to her own needs, and he resisted the all-consuming urge to pull her down flush against his body and anchor her around the waist so that he could drive his hips frantically upward into her. Her gasps and moans were becoming more emphatic, more insistent as he felt her tighten around him, and he found himself on the cusp of begging again, absolutely beside himself with the knowledge that she was bringing herself close to orgasm.

It was only when she finally threw her head back, announcing through short, strangled gasps that she was about to climax around him, that he suddenly felt his own body jerk and shudder violently, the indecency of the sultry words on her lips pushing him over into a release that tore through his body with a thunderous intensity.

He knew nothing of his surroundings for a long time, vaguely aware of her moving off him and collapsing on the sheets next to him as she gasped for her own breath. It was then that he felt the shame creep back in, not only for his behaviour in the drawing room, but for giving in to her advances when he should've stopped the madness and explained himself instead. But the truth was, he'd missed her desperately since their last encounter in the barn and her intimacy, no matter how much anger lay behind it, had been impossible to resist. Never before had he been so utterly floored by a woman. In all of his encounters with the women he'd once bedded in a previous life, he had always been the one to take the reins, to gently goad them into ecstasy, to show them all the ways in which sexuality could be explored. And it had been so with Maria, until now.

He turned his head to face the woman who'd entirely captured his heart, willing himself to catch his breath and approach the subject that desperately needed to be addressed. She was staring at the ceiling, her bare chest rising and falling rapidly, the blush he so adored spreading across her neck and up into her cheeks.

"Darling..." He rasped, "that was..."

She didn't meet his eyes and instead sat up quietly, moving away from him and shuffling towards the end of the bed. The flames had subsided and the hurt had returned to her eyes.

"Oh Maria, sweetheart please let me explain," he fairly begged, pulling his trousers up from his ankles and shimmying down the bed to meet her. He placed a hand tentatively against her back and when she didn't flinch away from him, he leant in and pressed his lips gently to her bare shoulder, running loving kisses across her skin and against the hair at the nape of her neck.

"You were very cruel, Georg..." she whispered into the tense silence and his heart broke at the sudden vulnerability in her voice. The fiery temptress who'd claimed his body only moments ago was now nowhere to be seen, replaced by a fragile girl who's feelings he had hurt.

"My reaction was entirely unacceptable Maria," he implored, jumping to his feet and pacing agitatedly in front of her, running weary hand through his hair, "but you must know I didn't respond that way for the reasons you think."

She met his eye for the first time then but still she said nothing, giving him the opportunity to explain himself. He sunk to his haunches at her feet, his face torn in anguish as he gripped her hands in his.

"Darling," he began, looking up into her wide, guileless eyes, "the thought of having a baby with you fills me with so much joy I can barely contain it. You are entirely extraordinary and I have no doubt in my mind that a child of ours would be every bit as extroadinary as its mother. But with the war.. The danger, the uncertainty. I panicked." He swallowed hard in an attempt to ease the lump in his throat, "you're entirely precious to me and if you're carrying my child I'm the luckiest man in the world. But what..." His voice broke, "What if I can't protect you both from what's going on out there?"

Suddenly everything was startling clear to Maria and her heart flooded with a fierce compassion and overwhelming empathy. This brave, stoic, passionate man crouched before her, this man who'd fought desperately for his principles, this man who was begging for her forgiveness in all his vulnerability - this man was absolutely terrified of losing his family.

"Oh Georg," she sighed, taking his face in her hands and pressing her lips to the creases along his brow, "if I am indeed carrying your child it'll be the luckiest, most fiercely protected child to ever live. War or no war."

Her words did nothing to ease the furrows of worry across his forehead and she leant in to kiss him deeply on the mouth by way of reassurance, "admittedly darling, if Baroness Whitehead is correct in her assumptions, it has come at a rather inopportune time," she continued, "but you must know that this child will be so loved, so cherished. If we've created life together, then I regret nothing."

He wrapped his arms around her then and pulled her flush against him, breathing a heavy sigh of relief, "whatever have I done to deserve you?" He murmured into her hair, taking great comfort in the scent of roses and lavender that greeted him there, "Can you forgive me?"

"Always.."

Long moments passed then, moments in which they simply clung to each other in comfort, until he eventually pulled back and placed a gentle hand against her abdomen.

"I can't believe we might've created life together.." He cracked a watery smile, "who would've thought it.. "

"Well we don't know for certain.." She smiled, stroking her fingers down the length of his cheek.

"We need to go to a doctor as soon as possible," he replied, his face hardening slightly, "and if it's what we think, it will be entirely wonderful and I'll be overjoyed. Please don't ever doubt that for a minute my love. But if it is indeed true, then we will need to stay put, here in the countryside. At least for a while."

She nodded solemnly, completely unsurprised by his declaration and its implications. Their plan had been to stay in England a few weeks at most, before boarding a ship to America. But with the Blitz raging across the country, with the ports being targeted so violently by the Luftwaffe, it would be suicide to attempt an escape with a pregnant wife and seven children in tow.

Wordlessly, as though there was nothing else that needed to be said, he pulled her to her feet gently and they climbed under the sheets together, wrapping themselves into a tight embrace amidst the cocoon of warmth and protection they'd formed there. Whispered words of adoration were shared, worries confessed and reassurances uttered, before the lovers eventually fell into a restless slumber, she spooning intimately against his protective frame and he resting a strong hand absentmindedly against her stomach.

A/N: next chapter up soon I promise!