The breeze blew through her hair, and she took a deep breath as she closed her eyes to take it in. If she imagined hard enough, it nearly felt as if she were upon her mountain, the sun delicately touching her cheeks. She missed her mountain more than she would dare to admit. It had been her safe place, her place of prayer and peace for as long as she could remember, and she desperately needed that in her life.

"Baroness?" She scoffed, opening her eyes to find Liesl smiling smugly from her place next to her upon a bench.

"You find yourself funny now." She laughed harder, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, I can't help myself. I know how it bothers you." She smiled as the girl took a bite of her sandwich, watching a few children rushing to catch up to their mothers who were walking together in the park. When she first moved to Vienna, she would pretend to go shopping and pack a small lunch to take to the park with her. The nature that she desperately needed in her life was hard to come by, so she made due with what she could.

"It is the title I have, after all. It just seems so silly to be that formal with you."

"I have always called you Fraulein. That isn't formal?" She laughed, shrugging.

"Perhaps it's supposed to be, but it's never felt formal the way you and your siblings say it. The way your father says it…" She stopped, her heart leaping in her throat. She couldn't believe she had come out with it like that, so unlike her to slip up.

"Do you want me to ignore that?"

"Yes, very much." Liesl laughed, nudging her arm as she met her eyes in embarrassment. She felt ashamed of the woman she was at the moment, and she feared Liesl would think less of her if she revealed any truth about her father.

"You've spent a lot of time on the phone with him since I've been here." She bit her lip, unsure if she was really all that hungry anymore.

"Yes." Short answers were her friend, she decided.

"You said you used to love him…what about now?"

"Oh, Liesl, I'm married. I'm only supposed to have eyes for my husband." Liesl shook her head, smiling. She had watched her former governess very closely during her stay. As much fun as she was having, she noticed that there was a dimness to Maria that had never been there before. She had always been so full of life.

"You are supposed to. You never said you do." She sighed, meeting her eyes in desperation. She should have known the girl was too smart for her to make remarks like that.

"It's very complicated."

"I can see that." She wrapped up the rest of her sandwich and placed it in their basket, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Are you happy, Fraulein?"

"I…" She began to speak, but the innocence in the girl's words made her feel a bit emotional. It was a very loaded question. "I have a very lovely life, I don't want you to think I'm not grateful for it."

"I would never think that about you." She smiled as Liesl took her hand in her own. "Father told me that your marriage isn't perfect. He was nervous about what I may witness. I wasn't sure what he meant, but I see it now."

"Dear, sweet Liesl." She squeezed her hand, shaking her head as she tried to decide what to say. She thought she had witnessed the worst of their marriage, and she hadn't even seen the half of it. For a moment she wondered if she should have been angry at Georg for his words, but she knew he was merely looking out for his daughter. She couldn't blame him for that when he knew exactly how bad things had been. "Otto is…he's just…"

"He's mean." The most simple way she could have described him, but it was true, after all. "He's terribly controlling, and he seems angry at the world every time I see him. You can't do anything right, in his eyes."

"He wasn't like that in the beginning, you know. When he courted me he was very kind and sweet. I thought he would be a quiet, calm life partner, someone I could depend on." She felt tears welling in her eyes as she reflected on the reasons she had accepted his proposal in the first place. He had been a wonderful man to her, kind and compassionate, and he never said a cross word about anyone, let alone toward her.

"When did things change?"

"I don't know, really. Looking back, I think it was a gradual change that I began to really notice a few weeks before we came to Salzburg. And things have been rather strained ever since." She sighed, feeling better for letting out her feelings, but feeling guilty for sharing the burden of her marriage with a seventeen year old girl.

"Did you ever love him?" She felt sick from the honesty behind the question, and equally for the honesty of her own answer.

"I loved the idea of him for a time." It sounded brutal, but it was true. She knew she had never loved him, there was no point in pretending anymore. She smiled, remembering herself. She laughed as she wiped a few tears from her eyes, pushing away the conversation. "I'm sorry, dear, I don't know what's come over me."

"It's okay, Fraulein." They shared a smile, hands clasped in support as they continued to look off into the distance.

xxxxx

She smiled as Liesl handed her the phone, excusing herself to get ready for bed. It had been another night with just the two of them, as Otto had sent word that he would be incredibly late that night. She supposed any other wife would be concerned that he was cheating or carrying on in some way, but she seriously doubted he would do such a thing without somehow bringing it up in everyday conversation to try hurting her. He really was that vindictive, she knew, so she didn't worry to much over his whereabouts. Not to mention the fact that she couldn't have cared much less what he was doing.

Instead, she reveled in the moments that she was able to spend with Georg. Even though their time together was spent over the phone, if she closed her eyes she could imagine she was right there with him, his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Even as he talked about the children, and the argument he had with Max that day, she felt herself imagining that they were simply in bed together at the end of a long day, sharing their secrets and feelings. She took a long drink of her wine, and she closed her eyes, laying her head back against the desk chair.

"I miss you." He smiled at her words, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

"I miss you too. Very much."

"I can't wait to see you again."

"I feel the same. I can't wait to kiss you…if you'll allow it, of course." He hadn't meant to let the words slip, but he meant them. He had dreamed about her kiss ever since their last.

"Yes, we'll need to be alone immediately." He felt his eyebrows nearly raise to his hairline at her suggestion, and she blushed to herself for being so bold. She didn't care, she wanted him to know exactly where she stood.

"For conversation, of course." She laughed, the breathy sound caressing his ears, and he had to close his eyes to keep himself from spilling the details of everything he wanted to do to her.

"Naturally. What else would we do, after all?" She took a drink of her wine, which had become a bit of a staple for her calls with him. There was something about a glass of wine that really set the tone…or even a couple glasses, she had to admit. She assumed he had a glass of brandy by his side as well.

"Are you completely alone?" She smiled, biting her lip.

"Yes, are you?"

"Yes." He paused for a moment, deciding if he was going to go too far, but he couldn't stop himself. "Are you touching yourself?"

"Georg! Of course not." She laughed, nearly choking on her wine as her cheeks burned. He certainly knew how to surprise her when she least expected it. She bit her lip once again, feeling a bit wicked. "Are you?"

Across the house, Otto tossed his jacket against the stairwell, angry and frustrated by the long and brutal day he'd had at work. He was completely over his line of work, not caring anymore that his business was passed down through generations. He was tired of his entire life, tired of everyone and everything in it. He had other interests, other dreams and aspirations that did not align with the job that his father pushed him into, or the house his father gave him. The only good decision he had made in his life was his wife, no matter how his father had scolded him for his choice in a woman. He didn't like that she was a common woman, born in the mountains and a former postulant, and he personally loved that his father despised her.

He walked into his house, finding it eerily quiet. He rolled his eyes, frustrated once again by the fact that Maria tended to give the staff time off more than he would have ever allowed. She said she wanted them to spend more time with their own families rather than them, and it could not have annoyed him more. He paid them handsomely to be at his every beck and call, and half the time they were nowhere to be seen. As much as he loved her, she certainly had a way of getting beneath his skin.

Suddenly, he heard his wife laughing from the study. It was a laugh he had never heard from her before, and he felt quite puzzled by it. He stepped closer to the study door, pressing his ear against it as he heard a breathy laugh escape her lips again, quite sensual, if he dared to go that far. She was clearly on the phone, speaking to someone he could not place. He looked about once more, ensuring he was alone, before he made his way to the sitting room and gently lifted the phone, careful to cover the receiver so he wouldn't be detected.

"Would you like me to be?" She laughed, shrugging even though he couldn't see her.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps I would like to be the one touching you."

"A former postulant talking like that." She giggled, taking another drink of her wine.

"Or perhaps a slightly smashed Baroness." He laughed as well, suddenly understanding her bold attitude toward him.

"I was wondering about that."

"You were? Can you tell?" He chuckled, and she wondered if she should have been embarrassed. She certainly didn't think she was that far taken by the wine.

"Yes, but I must say I find it refreshing when you're a bit out of control."

"I'm hardly out of control. I know perfectly well what I'm doing." She replied cheekily, and he smiled as he settled further into his chair.

"Oh, do you? Well, in any case, I do love that you've acquired a taste for good wine." She smiled to herself, wondering just how wicked she could become for him. She wanted him desperately, wanted to be sure he still wanted her in the same way. She had been concerned that time and distance from one another could have changed his feelings in some way.

"And is there a particular taste you have recently acquired?" He laughed, wondering if he had the ability to blush himself. He wondered exactly how far she wanted him to go, what lines he could cross just over the phone.

"Are you talking about the taste between your thighs?" She smiled brightly, so excited that he was willing to play along. Her cheeks were burning from her own boldness.

"Yes. Do you like it?"

"Yes, I'm quite fond of the way you taste, the way you feel against my mouth." They had only made love the one time, but he would never forget a single detail about that night, about her. "Would you like me to describe it to you?"

"Slowly, if you don't mind."

"Only if you rest your hand between your thighs." She bit her lip, smiling to herself as she sat down her nearly empty wine glass and gently reached beneath her own dress, her bare thighs warm above her stockings. She sighed, and he chuckled to himself at how easily she would do anything he asked. The trust she had in him was phenomenal.

"What else?"

"You really want me to say?" He felt a bit nervous, for whatever reason. He had done quite a few promiscuous things in his life, but he truly wasn't certain if he'd ever spoken so boldly, particularly over the phone.

"Why stop now?" He laughed, realizing that he would do anything she asked as well.

"Spread your legs." She obeyed, adjusting in the chair for more comfort. "Slowly run your fingertips over your inner thighs."

"What would you do next?" Her words were breathy, and he closed his eyes to imagine exactly how she must have looked.

"Slip your hand into your panties." She sighed, too aroused to stop herself at that point. She closed her eyes, imagining it was his hand moving across her skin. "Part yourself with your middle finger. Tell me how it feels."

"Warm…"

"Add a second finger…"

"Wet…"

"Move them in slow circles and imagine it's my tongue."

"Christ…" She gasped, moving her hips against her hand.

"I've never heard you swear."

"I will say anything you please." He smiled to himself, sweat prickling down the back of his neck as he pressed a palm against the front of his own pants.

"You taste amazing. Sweet and gentle, and incredibly sexy." He heard her breathing a bit faster, and he could imagine her biting her lip as she moved against her hand. "Tell me how it feels when you move a bit faster."

"Hot…" She moved her hips against her hand, thankful she had taken the time to lock the door, as she had no idea she would have ended up in such a position from a seemingly innocent phone call.

"Now faster."

"What else?"

"I want you to come against your hand."

"Yes."

"Say the filthiest word you know when you do." She continued to move her hand, her stomach convulsing and her breathing heavy as she felt the eruption inside of her.

"Fuck…" She gasped, followed by the most beautifully feminine sound he had ever heard, and he closed his eyes, committing everything to memory for the moment he was alone. She breathed heavily into the phone, doing her best to catch her breath.

"That certainly didn't take long. Feel better?" She began to laugh a bit, shaking her head.

"Oh, dear, what just happened?"

"Something I will remember for the rest of my life." She laughed again, removing her hand from between her legs and taking a tissue from the desk to wipe her fingers as she righted her clothing.

"I'm so embarrassed…"

"No, never be. I could not be more aroused by you."

"Your turn then?" He laughed, shaking his head. He didn't want her over the phone, he wanted her in the flesh.

"I'm waiting until I see you again."

"Such willpower." He laughed, shaking his head as he took another drink of his brandy. "You're always on my mind."

"Yes, I think of you constantly."

"I love you, Georg. More than anything, more than I could ever possibly imagine."

"I love you too, my darling." Suddenly, she jumped as she heard something crashing in the distance. It sounded as though a piece of furniture had been thrown, the sound of shattering glass echoed through the house. "What was that?"

"You heard that? I don't know...I should go."

"You will not. Should I stay on the line?"

"No, of course not, I'm certain it's only Otto coming home. I'll speak to you soon." She quickly hung up the phone, rushing to the door as she righted her clothes, smoothing her dress to be sure she was presentable.

She reached for the door, unlocking it as she gingerly stepped into the hallway to investigate.