"Now Maria.. Don't be upset," Max encouraged, holding his hands up apprehensively as though handling a ticking time bomb, "Georg was going to tell you..."
Maria merely stared at him in abject horror, his words sounding entirely foreign to her as they flew in one ear and out the other. Her heart was ricocheting off her ribcage like a firework, her lungs were filling with wool, a million thoughts and feelings were firing through her brain as the impresario's sickening revelation began to sink in. Georg had accepted a post with the Royal Navy? Without telling her? Surely it was impossible! Was the man completely insane?! Her blood began to turn over in her veins as she contemplated what it might mean for their family if it were true. Would he be leaving for Hampshire? Would he be sent away on a U-boat for long months at a time? Or worse... Would he never come back? Bile began to rise in her throat and a shaky hand flew to her chest absentmindedly in an attempt to elevate the potent mix of fear, anger and betrayal that had begun to knot there.
They'd talked at length about their fears for their unborn child, the worries they both felt in bringing new life into a world riddled with danger. Reassurances had been shared and loving consolations whispered between them in their most intimate moments - to the point where she'd naively felt that nothing and no one could ever harm their growing family. Nothing would be able to penetrate the protective cocoon they'd wrapped around themselves. Only, it had all been a lie. Georg himself was about to singlehandedly rip the cocoon apart. How could he?
Stirring from her reverie, she realised that Max was still babbling incessantly in a desperate bid to sooth her panic, tugging at his moustache so forcefully in his agitation that Maria found herself wondering whether it would come clean off his face. Realising that she wasn't listening to a single word he was saying and that he may as well have been speaking Japanese for all she cared, she suddenly knew exactly what she was going to do. As quickly as it had come, the panic in her chest began to dissipate like a thinning smog, and it was quickly replaced by a fiery resolution that was only enhanced by her dangerously rampant hormones.
Max was utterly at a loss. He'd never been particularly well versed in calming women down, or talking to women at all for that matter, and it only served to unsettle him further when his words seemed to do nothing but evoke an unnerving, blank stare from the young lady before him.
He'd quickly lost track of the utter drivel he was spouting, the nonsense streaming from his lips unreservedly in his failed attempt to undo the damage he'd evidently done - but he immediately fell silent when, much to his horror, Maria suddenly snapped to attention and squared her shoulders in bold determination, her eyes blazing with fury as they burned straight through him.
Oh god, he knew that look.
"Maria.. Come now, don't do anything rash.."
But it was too late. She had already turned on her heels and begun marching back into the house like a woman on a mission, without so much as a word uttered, as though she hadn't even heard him, leaving him to splutter idiotically into the night air.
"Oh Christ!" he spat in indignation, knowing all too well where the feisty Fraulein was headed. This could only end in disaster, particularly for him. Georg had been reluctant to share his plans with Max but in the end it had been Robert who'd insisted he be privy to the secret. The baron had quickly realised that the impresario was both cunning and relentless. That, coupled with the fact that it had been nearly impossible for Robert to discuss matters with Georg without Max also being present, meant that the elderly baron and the stubborn sea captain had eventually acquiesced.
It had become easier for Georg simply to let Max in on the plot, but the impresario had quickly warned him of the dangers not only of risking his life, but of falling victim to Maria's wrath if she were to find out. Georg had been less than thrilled by Max's impertinence and had sworn his friend to secrecy in such a threatening way that even the playful impresario had had the smirk wiped from his face. No, this would not end well for Max if Georg found out.
Picking up his heels in a flash and moving faster than even the sound of champagne being uncorked could stimulate, he hurried after a raging Maria, already aware that his warnings would likely fall on deaf ears. No one ever listened to Max Detweiler.
And quite rightly, he admonished himself bitterly, you imbecile.
Slamming the phone down with self-satisfied conviction, Georg leaned back in the rich leather chair that lay behind Robert Whitehead's mahogany desk, crossing an ankle over his knee and knitting his fingers together in thought. He glanced at the majestic grandfather clock on the far wall and noted he'd been on the phone to the baron for no more than ten minutes - an adequate amount of time to avoid raising any suspicion from other members of the household. Pondering his predicament, he felt an unwelcome surge of guilt course through him but abruptly dismissed it, knowing all too well that such feelings were entirely counterproductive in light of what he and Robert were trying to achieve.
The naval project they had been discussing ever since his arrival in Northampton was entirely top secret and required not only Georg's expertise, but his unwavering discretion as well. There would be no second chances, there would be no coming back from it if the information were to fall into the wrong hands. Clumsy hands like Max Detweiler's, he thought bitterly, questioning for the millionth time why his father in law had trusted the world's biggest gossip with such sensitive knowledge. It was just as well that Max knew nothing of the project itself - only that Georg was working for the Royal Navy - for if he knew of the type of work that Georg was involved in, the impresario might've been far more insistent with his warnings.
Georg had looked over the odd document here or there for Robert even back when the war was nothing more than a rumour - that much was no secret. But this particular line of work was entirely different. Secrecy and discretion had always been part of his role at the height of his naval career and in this particular case it was absolutely imperative. It wasn't working discreetly that Georg found difficult, or even the pressure of being trusted with such delicate information. Nor was it the dangers of associating himself with the enemy of the Third Reich. No, for Georg, the difficulty lay in having to lie to his wife.
Despite the necessity behind his secrecy, it simply didn't sit right with him to deceive Maria. In truth, he abhorred it, battling inwardly with a shame and self-repugnance that left him feeling entirely hollow. And what was worse was the fact that she'd begun to notice. She'd begun to notice the way he withdrew into himself, or turned to physical intimacy to avoid communication. She'd begun to notice how he disappeared and returned to her soon after, suddenly dark and brooding. And her face, her beautiful face etched with worry and concern, her guileless eyes asking wordlessly for his honesty, it was enough to make him want to pour his aching heart out.
Not to mention the fact that she was carrying his child. He'd laid awake countless nights since his arrival fretting over that very fact, knowing that sooner or later he would have to go to Hampshire himself, leaving his pregnant wife behind. He'd done the very same thing seven times over with Agathe and he despised the very thought of doing so again. It was for that very reason that he'd so uncharacteristically lost his head in the drawing room the night they'd suspected Maria was pregnant, though he had insisted it was merely the fear of bringing a child into a world at war. It had been half true at least.
Working with the Royal Navy was dangerous enough and the thought of leaving his family was painful, but he hadn't anticipated becoming a father again so quickly. The realisation changed everything. As soon as Doctor Knight had confirmed it, Georg had swallowed his own sense of panic, comforted his fretful wife, and then marched straight down to Robert's study to end all affiliation with the navy. He simply couldn't leave another pregnant wife alone.
"Don't be ridiculous Georg," Robert had snipped, when his son in law had stormed into the study, all guns blazing, "you made a commitment. To an extremely delicate project. You know as well as I do you can't just turn your back on it. Where's your sense of duty?"
"To hell with my sense of duty!" Georg had shouted, terrified of the mess he'd managed to get himself into, "my duty lies with my family first and foremost! I won't make the same mistakes again!"
Robert had sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, though when he'd spoken again his voice had suddenly been quieter, more compassionate, "Georg.. Do not punish yourself for what happened in the past. Your duty to your family has always come first and you should be very proud of that."
Georg had scowled stubbornly, recalling how much he'd blamed himself when Agathe had fallen sick.
"But remember what you told me when I first propositioned you with this project?" Robert continued, "when I warned you of its potential dangers?"
Georg's scowl hadn't faltered but he'd nodded reluctantly, "I told you I wanted to do my part in securing a better future for my children..."
"And does that not hold true now more than ever before?" Robert had encouraged, "knowing that Maria is carrying your child?"
He'd been right in the end. But it didn't matter what Robert had to say, or how Georg felt. Both men knew that a commitment had already been made. Robert had pulled a number of extremely influential strings to get Georg involved in such an important project and to walk away from it now would be considered desertion.
Once again, Georg admonished himself bitterly for making such a reckless decision, even before he knew of Maria's pregnancy. But he'd felt entirely useless, angry, a coward. He'd so desperately wanted to do something and he knew deep down that he'd never be able to live with himself if he didn't at least fight for his family's future. As difficult as the decision had been, he couldn't bring himself to truly regret it.
Without warning, the door to the study suddenly flew open with such force that Georg almost fell out of his chair. Flailing uncouthly to still the wobbling furniture and snapping to attention to see who could possibly have caused such a racket, he felt his heart suddenly still in his ribs at the sight that greeted him. There in the doorway, her face contorted in righteous anger and her breathing as ragged as a storming bull's, was Maria.
Georg gulped.
Before he could even open his mouth to speak, the thundering sound of running footsteps could be heard approaching and Max suddenly appeared behind Maria in the doorway, panting for breath and attempting to grab at her arm. But the furious woman seemed completely unperturbed by the impresario's attempts to silence her, merely tugging herself away from his reach.
"You're involved with the Royal Navy Georg?!" She cried, her exclamation knocking the wind out of him.
Max made a bizarre noise then, somewhere between a defeated groan and a strangled whine.
"I don't think I've ever been so angry," Maria's voice broke, "or so hurt!"
"Georg -" Max interrupted breezily, his head popping up over Maria's shoulder, "I just want you to know, I had nothing to do with this.."
"Max..." Georg's eyes burned with fury and the singular word rolled like acid off his tongue.
"She forced it out of me Georg! She's like some sort of-"
"Get. Out." Was the dangerously steely response.
"Right you are!" Max chirped with false gaiety, before scurrying out of sight, entirely relieved to be dismissed from the imminent storm.
"Close the door Maria, darling," Georg sighed calmly. He knew he entirely deserved this particular turn of events and he would face it like a man. She acquiesced before whirling around to face him again, the pain written across her features making it difficult for him to even look at her.
"How could you Georg.."
A long silence hung between them as he pondered how best to respond. How could he? It was a very good question. He'd made an awful mess of things.
"I needed to do something," he replied, his expression pained, "I can't just sit back and-"
"I'm not talking about why you're doing it," Maria interrupted, "I know you very well and I fully understand the selfishness behind your decision," He blanched at her words, "No," she continued, "I'm not asking you how you could put your family second - that I understand well enough. I'm asking you how you could keep this from me?"
He tried his best to forgive her angry accusation for he was more than deserving of it, but only one word fully resonated with him, causing his temper to flair.
"is that what you think of me?" His voice was icy cold, so much so that it sent an unwelcome chill down her spine, "you think me selfish?"
"I think you feel restless, useless, bitter that you have to hide in the shadows while other men do their part," she observed, the accuracy in her words causing his anger to bubble to the surface, "I think you made this decision to ease your own sense of guilt."
Again she was right, and it felt like a blow to the chest.
"But you don't have to do this Georg!" She fairly begged, her voice sounding so foreign in its urgency.
"Please don't ask me to be less than I am Maria," he breathed, trying desperately to ignore the turmoil breaking across her face.
It was an unfair move on his part, to play on her loyalty towards him like that, and it caused the flames of anger to lick at her insides again.
"Don't do that!" She cried, her voice shrill, "do not guilt trip me for wanting you to stay here with your family! I cannot stop you from collaborating with the navy and neither would I ask it of you. But at the very least, I deserved to know!"
"I didn't want to frighten you," he murmured ashamedly.
"It's a little late for that!" she admonished, her eyes alight with passionate anger.
"I know that now!" was his bitter retort as he raised his voice, "I should've told you but I wanted to wait until it was fully confirmed. Only then we found out you were pregnant and that took priority over anything else. I tried to get out of the deal when I discovered I was going to be a father again, but it was too late by then Maria! I can't just walk away from it now, and in hindsight I'm glad for it."
"You're glad for it?!" She spluttered in disbelief, "you told me you were terrified of being unable to protect our unborn child, you told me you were scared to bring an infant into a world riddled by war. And now you're diving head-first into that war! You made this decision without thinking of your family and you're glad for it?!"
He stood so abruptly that the chair nearly toppled over behind him, though he managed to refrain from thumping his fist against the desk in his anger. Her accusation was so far off the mark that it left him feeling physically wounded, "that is neither fair nor true! The very thought of our children living in a world ruled by a madman is so utterly abhorrent to me that it's enough to keep me awake at night!" He bellowed, "Men everywhere are dying every single day to stop that from happening! What will our children think of me when they become adults in a world torn apart by Nazi rule, knowing that their father did nothing to prevent it?!"
"Surely that's better than having no father at all, Georg!" She sobbed, "You could leave eight children fatherless and a wife absolutely heartbroken for goodness sake! And for what?!"
"I was one of the best in my field!" He shouted, "I survived before didn't I?"
"Why you arrogant- even the mighty Captain von Trapp can't cheat death!" she threw her hands in the air in desperation.
His eyes were pure fire and his fists were balled at his sides as he stepped out from behind the desk, but she knew that his fury wasn't so much directed at her as it was at himself, "Friedrich is almost a man, how would I ever explain to him that his father chose to do nothing while boys not much older than he is fought for their freedom?" He took several steps closer, running an anxious hand through his tousled hair, "Leisl, she's not a girl anymore. Will I see her entered into a society ruled by nationalist thugs? Over my dead body!" He growled, moving closer still, his face darkening with anguish, "The little ones, easily influenced - will they, and others like them, be raised in schools where hatred and discrimination are not only accepted but encouraged?! If I can do even one thing to prevent that from happening then yes, I am glad for it!"
"And what if you are killed Georg?" her voice cracked with the strain of her turmoil, "am I to carve our initials into your coffin?!"
Her words cut him like a knife and within half a second he'd closed the remaining gap between them, grabbing her upper arms in his strong hands as the atmosphere suddenly thickened with a new and heated charge. She attempted to struggle away from his grasp but the fire burning in his eyes was so intense, so possessive, that her heart fluttered into her throat, leaving her entirely breathless. She knew that look. He'd look at her that very same way all those months ago when he'd found the Swastika hanging outside the villa - as though he'd wanted to protect her and devour her all at once. The heady mix of anger, sorrow and desire burning away in his irises was a surefire sign that he was suddenly ravenous with hunger for her body. And she was appalled to discover that, despite her anger towards him, the fire in his gaze filled her with a sudden and thrilling anticipation.
"Will I stand idly by while other men fight for my children?" He growled, his voice barely above a whisper. He was standing so close that they were eye to eye and toe to toe, the warmth of his breath against her face, his body flush against hers, the thickness of the air as it palpitated dangerously with anger and desire - it left her feeling suddenly intoxicated, "will I let other men die for my wife?!"
His stirring admissions fired an arrow straight to her heart and before she'd even had a chance to catch her breath, he was crushing his lips to her own with a possessive groan of longing and remorse. The furious heat in her gut roared instantly to life again at the sound, only this time it was accompanied by a newfound desire, leaving her entirely torn between wanting to rip him limb from limb, and wanting to strip him garment by garment.
Why did he have to say such overwhelming things? Things that reduced her to a pile of wanton goo when she was attempting to discuss important matters. When she'd been a mere governess in the captain's household and witnessed the ways in which seemingly sophisticated aristocratic women would swoon over handsome gentlemen like helpless damsels, she'd rolled her eyes in derision and vowed never to fall victim to such silliness. And yet here she was, reduced to incoherency by nothing more than the honeyed sound of her husband's voice and the heady sensation of his lips on hers. It really was quite maddening but she found that she was already convincing herself, as he bit enticingly at her lower lip, that their conversation could wait. Until after...
But the still rational part of her mind tried desperately to clutch at some form of resolve, and she attempted to break away from him in her determination. "Don't..." She sobbed half heartedly against his lips as she pushed against his chest, but she found herself kissing him back hopelessly when he pulled her closer, releasing his grip on her arms and wrapping her in a protective embrace.
"I don't deserve you," he rasped, barely leaving an inch between their swollen mouths, "and it makes me want you all the more.."
She tried to determine up from down but she was lost on a wave of sensation, his words setting her body aflame and her godforsaken hormones rampaging through her body like a drug as he palmed her breasts and nipped insistently at her throat. Through the lustful haze of fury, longing and madness, she felt him reach behind her, heard the suggestive snick of the lock, and in the blink of an eye he was carrying her across the room, lowering her gently onto her back atop the mahogany desk.
His eyes were dark with guilt and adoration as he covered her body possessively with his own, the need emanating from his gaze causing her breath to catch in her throat despite the lunacy of their actions. Here they were once again, she realised as his eyes never left hers, caught in that rare place of carnal desire and overwhelming sorrow, the knowledge of what was at stake evoking a longing for one another that suddenly surpassed all else.
"I love you," he gasped, and she realised that he meant every word, that he had been punishing himself with the weight of his secret and that it had pained him to lie to her. And now that the weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders, he was desperate to find solace, to find comfort in her body once more.
"I need to have you," he choked, his voice thick with emotion, "tell me I can have you Maria."
She knew that he was talking not only of a need for her body but a need for her unwavering support as well. Could she give it to him? She wondered, knowing the danger he'd likely be putting himself in? She wasn't sure of her answer but there would be plenty of time to think about it later. For now, she didn't want to think of what her family had been through. She didn't want to think of the terror engulfing Europe. She didn't want to think of their uncertain futures. She wanted only to feel.
"You can have me.."
The whispered words were barely out of her mouth before he gave a moan of relief, his fingers flying down the row of buttons on her dress, tugging the garments away from her body until she was exposed vulnerably beneath him against the rich wood.
How beautiful she was, he thought, so unashamed and strong in her fierce devotion to him, even when they were fighting so brutally - and he felt an intense rush of fervent awe and hunger as he frantically rid himself of his own clothes in his desperation to feel her skin against his. He'd meant every word when he'd said he didn't deserve her, and he could hardly contain the whimper of longing that escaped his lips when he finally moved between her silken thighs, gathering her as close to him as their bodies would possibly allow.
Her figure was not yet showing the visible signs of her pregnancy, but he willed himself to be gentle nonetheless, to lose himself in her slowly, to love her devotedly and languidly until she was gasping and trembling beneath him. She gripped his face between her hands, their foreheads pressed together as they shared heated whispers and ragged breaths, the pleasure building not only where their bodies were joined but where their hearts thundered together in synchronisation. Nothing existed besides their entwined limbs and the overwhelming mess of emotions emanating between them, the pleasure, the sorrow, the love, the anger, the fear, the anguish - all of which could be relieved only in the way their bodies relentlessly moved as one.
He carried her with him tirelessly, his darkened eyes only ever leaving her face when he chose to pour his adoration into heady kisses that turned her blood hot, the physical intimacy and emotional distress growing so intense that tears welled in her eyes.
But he stayed with her, his gaze locked with her own as he rocked their bodies devotedly, bringing his thumbs to her eyes and brushing away the tears that had begun to fall as she gripped him tighter.
"I'm here my darling," he rasped, cradling her trembling frame against his to shield her from her turmoil, as he felt every nerve burning, every synapse striving towards release, "I'm right here with you."
And it was the realisation that he always would be, the realisation that he would always stand by her side, the realisation that he would always strive to protect her, that finally sent her soaring high above the shadows into a place of blinding light and overwhelming solace. Mere moments later, her name tearing unreservedly from his lips, Georg followed her. As she knew he always would.
A/N: some may think Maria weak in this chapter for succumbing, but I think some unexpected things can happen when two people love each other and emotions are running high. Our favourite couple have a lot to discuss in the next chapter. But for now, I hope you enjoyed this update.