A/N: quick update as promised, though this chapter is slightly shorter than the last. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless and I never get sick of the reviews!
"Well, congratulations Mrs von Trapp," the Whitehead family's personal physician, Doctor Knight, was sat opposite the wide-eyed couple in the guest bedroom, his smile warm and his countenance relaxed as he knitted his fingers together in his lap, "your assumptions are indeed correct."
"It's Baroness actually," Georg corrected on a mutter, his voice sounding entirely alien to him as he fought for breath. He immediately felt incredibly stupid for focusing on something so irrelevant in light of such significant news and chastised himself inwardly.
"My apologies, baroness," the doctor nodded politely in the direction of a gaping Maria as though they were doing nothing more than making acquaintances at an afternoon tea party.
"How long?" Maria squeaked, her heart thudding in her chest.
How long?! She screamed inwardly, feeling a panic begin to rise like boiling water beneath the surface. It hardly matters how long! You're pregnant now whether you're ready or not, you foolish girl! When Georg had been the one flying into a panic she'd been calm, collected and reasonable in light of the possibility that she was carrying his child. She'd been the balm he needed when he'd doubted himself and she'd felt entirely at peace with the notion of mothering his offspring. She'd almost felt elated, despite the imminent danger of the war around them. But that was when the possibility had been merely that - a possibility. Now, she was very much facing reality. Now she was facing self-doubt. Now she was facing the imminent arrival of a newborn infant. Now she was finding herself suddenly empathising with Georg's previous trepidation.
The panic in her chest began to twist itself into an ugly swarm of irrationality that suddenly surpassed all logic, rising into a tornado of fear. Georg. This was all his fault! He'd gotten her into this mess! With his burning blue eyes and..and stirring masculinity! What woman wouldn't have been entirely powerless to resist?! He'd gone and used his brooding sea captain charms to seduce her and and had ended up putting a baby in her belly. A baby she'd never be able to raise with any sense of discipline or decorum or aristocratic grace, let alone keep safe during the uncertainties of war. What on earth had they been thinking, engaging in marital affairs so carelessly?!
A crippling sense of dread flooded her body when her mind confronted her with a vivid image of a diaper-clad hooligan tearing through the house like a tornado as she ran after it hopelessly, disapproval emanating from everyone who was witness to her failures as a mother. Her rogue of a husband may as well have impregnated her with a barn animal, for that was surely the kind of child she would end up raising! She rounded on Georg faster than Kurt on chocolate cake.
"You!" She cried, jabbing an accusatory finger into his sternum, "I hope you're happy!"
Georg's jaw dropped in disbelief, "me?! What did I do?!"
"I'm Captain von Trapp," Maria mimicked in a deep, stern voice, entirely forgetting herself in front of the family doctor, "I'm dark and mysterious in a way that even I don't understand and I'm in desperate need of comfort from a woman who can tame my brooding ways..."
Georg turned a unflattering shade of puce at his wife's uncouth outburst and avoided the doctor's uncomfortable gaze.
"What exactly are you implying!" he retorted, scandalised.
"Would you like me to draw you a diagram?!" was the sarcastic reply.
Georg looked to the doctor in desperation, absolutely incredulous. It seemed however, that Doctor Knight was in no hurry to come to his rescue.
"Err.. I'll give you both a minute..." He launched from his seat uncomfortably and fled the room in a flash, clearly all too familiar with the volatility of a pregnant woman's emotions. Traitor! Georg thought jealously as he watched the doctor leave. If only he too could escape from the oncoming storm that was a frenzied Maria von Trapp.
By the time he turned back to face his wife she was already pacing the length of the room, muttering incessantly and running her fingers through her disheveled hair. She looked almost wild, and he found himself wondering if he himself had looked that way in the drawing room a week ago when Baroness Whitehead had made her observation. Gone was the poised and composed woman that he'd so often leant on for comfort and reassurance in the dark times since they'd left Aigen. Instead he saw the doe-eyed and skittish young girl who'd whirled into his life all those months ago with no real understanding of the world around her. She looked lost, startled, terrified.
Her pacing was so frenzied it was making him dizzy and she seemed to have completely forgotten about his presence in the room until she suddenly came to an abrupt halt and whirled round to face him again.
"You couldn't just..just.. Keep it in your pants could you!" She cried almost hysterically, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Wha..?! That's hardly fair!" Georg spluttered, "If I recall correctly, you were every bit as eager to.. To get it out of my pants! What you just said in front of the doctor was outrageous!"
She blushed scarlet then, despite herself, but resumed her frantic pacing once again.
"Maria darling what is this actually about?" Georg pressed, baffled, "when we first suspected that you might be pregnant you were all happiness and determination-"
"I didn't think about what I'd do if it were actually true!" She blurted in a panic, "I can't raise a child Georg, I can barely tie my own shoe laces without tripping over! I was raised on a farm for goodness sake! A farm! I reared piglets and calves, not aristocratic children! How will I teach it what to say, how to act, how will I teach it which silverware to use?! There's always so much silverware Georg!"
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry then, as it began to dawn on him why she was so upset. The very thought of her being a bad mother seemed utterly ridiculous to him. She'd proven from the minute she catapulted into his life that she was more of a parent than he'd ever been. Her self-doubt left him entirely astonished and he suddenly realised she really had no idea of how much his family needed her. Suddenly overcome with a fierce rush of tenderness, he launched from his seat on the bed and stilled her pacing with a tight embrace,whispering hushed reassurances into her hair until her erratic breathing began to slow.
"Shhh darling, it's okay," he whispered, stroking her hair affectionately as he pulled her closer, "you do realise don't you, that you were the best thing to happen to this family in a very long time?"
He received a little sniffle into his shoulder by way of reply and he found himself stifling a grin at how adorable her humility was, "you gave seven unruly children far more than a mere governess to look up to," he continued, "You gave them a mother to love, a parent to follow. At a time when their father was too wrapped up in his own selfishness to give them what they needed."
Maria pulled back and opened her mouth to defend him but he merely pressed a gentle finger to her lips and silenced her.
"Just as you reassured me that I'm more than capable of protecting our unborn child during this godforsaken war, it is now my turn to reassure you that you are already a mother in every sense of the word. You're a mother seven times over, my darling. And now we have the blessing of an eighth," his grin spread wide across his face then, and she smiled in return, a lovely warm smile that stirred him deeply and confirmed that her hysteria had passed.
"Eight children!" She breathed in mock dismay.
"I was rather hoping we could make it a round ten?" He smirked.
She looked entirely scandalised, "How could we possibly-"
"Would you like me to draw you a diagram?" He mused seductively, moulding her to his body as he caught her smiling lips in a languid kiss.
Just as he was about to show her exactly what no diagram could possibly demonstrate, the long forgotten doctor knocked lightly on the door and poked his head apprehensively into the room.
The couple jumped apart in embarrassment and Maria couldn't stifle her giggle when she noticed her captain blushing sheepishly.
"Good," the doctor grinned, "I see you two have made amends."
The weeks had passed quietly in Northampton since Maria had discovered she was expecting, and life had resumed a level of normalcy that she thought she'd never experience again after leaving Aigen. Summer had rolled into Autumn and she would spend golden afternoons with all nine of the children in the extensive grounds of the country home. Every morning without fail, she would drill them in their studies and the older von Trapps in turn would help her improve her English. Evenings were spent enjoying light conversation around the dinner table as they had done in Aigen, though the food was much more modest in light of the rationing that was necessary up and down the country.
The expecting couple had agreed to keep their exciting news from the children for the time being and had only informed them that they'd be staying in England for the foreseeable future, given that the ports were rife with danger. Thomas and Lucy had been overjoyed to discover that their new friends were here to stay, made evident by their whoops and cheers of genuine joy - in the weeks that had passed since their arrival, Maria had been delighted to see that the two English children had made fast friendships with the von Trapp brood. Within days it had felt as though they'd always been part of the tumultuous adventure and it seemed the youngsters were grateful for the newfound company.
It was only Baroness Whitehead's incessant pestering that had led Maria to share their news with the other adults over a late night 'tipple' exactly one week after doctor Knight's visit. Margaret had congratulated them with an exuberant hurrah and bone-crushing hugs, waiting only a minute before enthusiastically enquiring about how far along Maria was, her lips curled in a self-satisfied smile at having been proven right.
"Doctor Knight guessed at around a month or two," Maria had replied, sharing the Baroness's wry smile and knowing all too well why she had seemed so smug.
"A month or two.." Max had smirked knowingly, raising his eyebrows at Georg, "and you got married about..." He had trailed off and begun counting on his fingers emphatically.
"Yes thank you Max!" Georg had growled in warning, eliciting a low snort from Baron Whitehead into his glass of scotch.
Robert had since returned to the naval base in Hampshire and his presence was sorely missed amongst the children, who had a very close relationship with their grandfather. Even Thomas and Lucy were sad to see him go, knowing all too well that he was potentially facing great danger. The only other indication that war was still raging was the odd noise at night or the wailing of the air raid sirens that would send them all running for the basement, where they would take refuge as a family until the danger eventually passed.
It had filled Maria with a deep rush of affection when, during the third week, little Thomas had hurled himself into their bedroom late at night after hearing the distant sound of airplane propellers and, without the slightest hesitation, Georg had wrapped the frightened boy protectively in his arms amidst the sheets until they'd both fallen asleep. Maria suspected the boy was particularly fearful after having lived in London at the beginning of the war, as he was still easily startled by noise and seemed only to be appeased when he was curled up in Georg's fatherly embrace.
Yes, Maria thought, life had fallen into a relatively ordinary routine that she was very much grateful for, surrounded by the love and happiness of her family. Things were as normal as they could be in light of the war raging on their doorstep. The only thing that had begun to strike her as slightly un-ordinary was the fact that Georg's behaviour had taken a rather peculiar turn.
Once or twice before Robert had left for Hampshire, she'd caught her husband and the baron talking in low whispers that would abruptly come to a halt whenever she made her presence known. After Robert's departure, Georg would regularly disappear into the baron's study at exactly the same time every few days, claiming that he was in need of a solitary whiskey.
He was a terrible liar and Maria was determined to find out what he was up to. It simply wasn't his way to keep things from her and the possibilities left her feeling rather overwhelmed, fearing the worst. Whenever she attempted to broach the subject in their private moments however, he would rapidly distract her with hot, open mouth kisses that led her to a place where all thoughts of peculiar behaviour were very much a distant memory.
Her hormones were raging and she often found herself ravenous for her husband's body, a physical hunger that surpassed everything she'd ever known, and a deeply primitive, emotional desire to be close to him. And he took full advantage of this need of hers, knowing all too well that she'd be powerless to resist his advances and delighting in her evident desperation. The resulting encounters were frantic, wordless, carnal, and deeply rewarding, leaving her so sated she would fall asleep before having the chance to confront him again.
There was no denying it. Georg von Trapp was a stubborn man. But what he'd clearly failed to consider was that Maria was a stubborn woman. A woman who knew that if she wanted to determine the cause of her husband's strange behaviour, she would have to do so via some other source. A source that was far easier to crack.
"Max?" Maria's smile was sickly-sweet as she idled onto the veranda where the unsuspecting impresario was enjoying a solitary cigar. He looked rather taken aback to have been disturbed but soon returned her smile with a jovial one of his own.
"Hello my dear," he gestured warmly for her to join him, and she sidled closer, trying her best to appear nonchalant, "wonderful evening isn't it."
Maria nodded her assent.
"If you're looking for Georg he's in the-"
"Study? Yes, I know," she interrupted, "with his..solitary whiskey.."
Max chuckled lightly, before taking another drag of his cigar, "precisely. It's a sacred relationship you know - that which exists between a man and his whiskey."
Maria rolled her eyes impatiently, "Perhaps it's a torrid affair he's having with his whiskey tumbler that's making him behave so peculiarly then!"
She didn't miss the uneasy sideways glance that Max threw her, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced instead by another chuckle that sounded almost nervous.
"You know Georg.." the impresario shrugged nonchalantly, "that man loves a sanctuary in which to brood."
"Hmm.." Maria replied suspiciously, her eyes narrowing as Max attempted not to blanch under her sudden scrutiny. It seemed obvious that the man was becoming visibly anxious, fidgeting from foot to foot and clearing his throat unnecessarily.
"He seems to have a very strict brooding schedule.." Maria replied with mirth, her lips thinning, "the exact same time every other day, in fact.."
"Is that so?" Max retorted uncomfortably, staring pointedly at his feet, "He always did love orderliness.."
"And he..broods.." Maria drawled the word sarcastically, "For exactly fifteen minutes at a time.."
The impresario tugged at his moustache nervously, "Brooding time is to be strictly observed, no exceptions..."
Maria's eyes narrowed into slits and Max visibly avoided her intense stare. It was quite evident to Maria that the impresario would never have fared too well under torture.
"The most bizarre thing however," she provoked lazily, as she began to circle the agitated man like a prowling lioness, "is the fact that Robert actually keeps his whiskey in the drawing room.. Not the study..."
Max's head snapped to attention then and he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly like a goldfish, as though doing so would evoke some sort of excuse worthy of a solid defence. When no words came, their eyes locked dangerously, a silent understanding hanging palpably between them that the game was up - whatever the game might be.
"You know something.." Max's eyes narrowed.
"Perhaps.." Maria played coy, "or is it you who knows something.."
The impresario's eyes flashed, as though he were suddenly hungry for gossip, "I might know something.."
"Well I can't tell you what I know unless you tell me what you know.." Maria snipped.
Max shook his head violently, "I can't possibly tell you what I know.."
"Okay fine!"
"Fine!"
The silence was so thick a knife would've failed to cut it and Maria could hear nothing but her own adrenaline thundering in her ears. She was so close to cracking him!
"You don't know anything." Max smirked triumphantly.
And then it hit her - a piece of ammunition so simple it made her lips curl into a salacious smile. Oh, she had him alright.
"I do know one thing.." She purred dangerously.
"And what's that?" was the suspicious reply.
"I know where Margaret keeps the keys to the wine cellar.."
Max's eyes blew wide in utter dismay, the thought of someone tampering with his beloved wine apparently too much to bare, "You wouldn't dare!"
"I'll lock that cellar and hide away the key so fast, you'll forget what Merlot even looks like!" She cried victoriously, knowing she had him right where she wanted him.
Max gulped as though someone had threatened to rob him of his entire livelihood, "you would do well behind enemy lines Fraulein - you're positively merciless!"
"With all this rationing you'll have to make do with water, maybe orange juice if you're lucky..." Maria teased, circling him intimidatingly again, "it's going to be a long few months, hiding out here without the wicked pleasure of a good drink-"
"Alright alright!" Max cried, holding his hands up in surrender, "you've got me, my dear - touché. I really did warn him..."
Maria grinned triumphantly but the smirk was soon wiped from her face when Max breathed a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Georg has accepted a post with the Royal Navy."
A/N: naughty Georg! This was more of a (hopefully) humorous chapter with a few story developers in there so I hope you enjoyed.