"Open the doors of your heart and they will come…

And for every cruel arrow,

Sweet caresses of delirium also

To nourish your soul."

― Scott Hastie

Well, this one was getting away from me (again), so I took the guillotine to it! Chapter 34 was well over 12,000 words, and like Max, it really was a beast! It was hard to split into two equal parts, so this first part is a bit shorter than what follows. Happy reading and I hope July is being kind to you all. C/B

Maria was skedaddling down the foyer steps when she spotted Georg crossing from his study towards the drawing room.

"Oh, excuse me, Captain. May I ask you a question?" Maria called out.

"Fraulein," Georg replied. "I'm afraid I've got to run. Baroness Schraeder needs a ride home from lunch in town and I'm already late. You must realize there's not much time for an outfit turnover before we head out again!" He said mockingly with a roll of his eyes.

"It will be quick, I promise!" Maria replied

Georg crossed his arms and tried to feign disinterest in her. Since their outing to the opera their other night, she had been distracting him to no end.

"Well," Maria sighed. "Last night I noticed you and Herr Detweiller were playing billiards and I got to thinking..."

Georg rolled his eyes. He was not mentally prepared for a lecture; she was quite the enticing package whenever she told him off.

"Mmmhmm, yes...let me have it, Fraulein.." he hummed sheepishly.

"No, no, Sir!" Maria laughed. "There will be no lecture if that's what you're worrying about. Although I did overhear some interesting word selections and a handful of innuendos - many of which intrigued me..." she said with a wink, her two incisors clicking together with a devilish grin.

Was this woman flirting with him, and what did she hear, Georg wondered?

"Anyway. Where was I going with this? Ah, yes! Last night after tucking the children in, I went for a walk outside. While I was strolling, I realized that I had a question for you - but as of right now, I can't recall for the life of me what it was! When I came back inside, I noticed you were not in the drawing room, so I followed your voices down the hall. I only peeked around the corner to watch for a moment as I did not want to intrude; you and Herr Detweiller both seemed rather engaged. Besides, I had not seen you playing billiards since I arrived and was so very happy to see you at it. In fact, for the longest time I wondered if the billiards table met a similar fate to the music." Maria replied.

Georg cocked his head and crossed his arms across his chest and tried to conjure up his best unimpressed look.

Damn, she had expressive eyes!

"Captain, enough with that look! I know for a fact now that billiards are not forbidden, for I maaaaaaay have played a match or two with Herr Detweiller a couple of nights ago. Beat him flat, I did. But where was I..."

Georg's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. She had played billiards with Max? In this house? And beat him handedly? How did he not know this? Max was apparently getting too close to his governess for his liking.

"Sorry, I'm getting away with myself again, you know how I am!" Maria continued. "What I'm trying to ask is...well, I was wondering if it would be alright with you if I borrow the billiard table for a few hours this evening? I don't know why I hadn't thought about it before, but it's the perfect size to spread out on!"

Georg's mind suddenly went somewhere it shouldn't. He grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

"I promise to be kind to it," Maria continued pleadingly. She could not miss the look on his face just now, although she had obviously misinterpreted its meaning!

"I just need to cut out my fabric - yes, the one you gave me. Actually, you gave them all to me, but you know what I mean, Captain; it's the medal of honour fabric!" Maria laughed with a big smile.

"...I will keep the cover on it, so the felt will be safe from my scissors and threads. You have my word!"

Damn! He missed the first part of that last part. What did she just say? Why was he always getting caught up in the playful expression of her features.

"Yes, yes, of course, Fraulein. But wait, what am I agreeing to, really?" Georg asked.

"Nothing sinister, Captain. Just to borrow your billiards table, covered up and safe for one evening, please and thank you," Maria replied, clicking her heels together and offering him a salute.

"Right, right. What harm could even you do with the cover on?" Georg laughed out loud as he stuck his elbow into her ribs as he walked past her on his way towards the side table to pick up his hat.

Maria dropped her hand from her head and clasped her hands together in joy and began to head towards the kitchen.

"But wait, wait, wait, Fraulein! You must know what my next question is going to be?" Georg called out as he turned back towards her. "Where in Heaven's name did you learn to play billiards? And well enough to beat old Max? He's an excellent shot! Do you nuns have a pool table in the Abbey?" Georg laughed, trying his best to look scandalized.

"Oh no! Captain," Maria replied. "Snooker is definitely a no-no in the Abbey! When I was in school in Vienna, however, I had an acquaintance who played often. He taught me the ropes. I only learned 8-ball, but got to be pretty good at it. Herr Detweiller tells me that only heathens play 8-ball, so, he showed me the rules for Sixty-One. Definitely a much more sophisticated man's-man kind of game. I felt like I needed a cigar dangling from my mouth to play properly. But apparently all that I had learned transferred over well to Sixty-One!"

Dumbfounded, and cringing internally at the mention of an acquaintance named "he", not to mention a nun smoking a cigar, Georg finally managed to squeak out a response.

"You played 8-ball, Fraulein? On top of your tennis umpire work? I can only imagine where in Vienna you honed your craft!"

"Yes, sir," Maria replied. "And I made a decent amount of money most Wednesday and Saturday nights throughout the winter!"

"Well, I'm dashed Fraulein! Fresh out of the convent and a veritable snooker pro? Who would have guessed? You never cease to amaze me! I am going to have to talk to the Reverend Mother about this before you take your vows! Shouldn't you go to confession for something like this?" Georg said with a wink. "Oh, and I am most certainly going to have to talk to Max about teaching a Novice how to play Sixty-One. By the way, he's a good player, but did he tell you I'm practically invincible at 16-ball?".

"He might have mentioned it, Captain," Maria laughed. "But I may have also laughed in his face. No one is invincible at billiards Captain, not even you. If you're up for it, you could be the second Austrian Knight that I've beat at billiards!"

Georg knotted his eyebrows together.

"Wait just a second...you've beaten a Knight at billiards? Dare I ask who was the first?" Georg inquired.

"Oh, it was Johann Iskrić. I trust you know each other [1] ? He lectured one day in my history course, and it just so happened that he and my professor showed up at the same tavern where I was playing that evening. I think he was a little tipsy by the time he challenged me, but he still had a decent shot being a military man, and all that..."

"Excuse me, Captain". Frau Schmidt bustled in from the direction of the library. "But Baroness Schraeder has called to ask if you'll be picking her up soon?"

Georg palmed his face with his hand.

"Oh dammit! I have to go Fraulein before I'm totally in the doghouse," Georg exclaimed. "But this conversation is far from over. Be it resolved that I challenge you to a snooker duel tomorrow after the children are asleep. I'll get Max to be our umpire. I just can't tonight. The Baroness and I have tickets to a little outdoor dinner theatre production in Hallein."

Georg called over his shoulder as he headed up the steps and out the front door. "But, tomorrow, you're on!".

He placed his hat on his head, and then pulled the door behind him and it closed with a bang. Maria heard the car engine starting and the telltale sound of tires crunching on gravel as he drove off.

Maria shrugged and smiled at Frau Schmidt as they stood in the quiet of the foyer.

"Fraulein Maria, you've changed that man, rather single-handedly, I must stay. No snotty Baroness could ever have wrought the changes you have managed. Never did I think I would live to see the day when he acted like his old self again...and yet, every day he surprises me!" Frau Schmidt crowed.

Maria shook her head and pursed her lips as if she had eaten a lemon.

"I hardly believe I had anything to do with that? He's a competitive man any way you look at him, and obviously the Captain has played billiards for a long time if he's got an ego about the game like that!" Maria laughed so hard she doubled over.

"Well, Fraulein Maria, I am talking about much more than billiards! But believe what you may," Frau Schmidt replied. "I have known the man since he was barely out of short pants, and I have seen him go through the best and worst moments of his life. There's only one woman who could talk to him the way you do; the same one that brought that side out of him: playful, content, genuine. It's a miracle, really. Almost like the late Baroness arranged for you to come here and take control of this ship and send it back into open water!"

Frau Schmidt winked at Maria as she toddled back towards the kitchen, leaving Maria alone in the middle of the foyer.

Maria shrugged her shoulders and took a deep breath before turning on her heel and bounding back up the stairs to see how the children were getting along with their craft time. As she climbed the stairs, she was caught by a memory: her Captain standing below in the foyer, apologizing to her, approaching tentatively, and asking her to stay. The day everything changed.

Frau Schmidt was right, so much had changed since that day. Changed for the better.

The Grossglockner Dinner Theatre in Hallein was an al fresco affair that ran every summer. This summer, the theatre company was staging Anton Wildgans' trilogy - starting with the 1914 drama "Armut" (poverty) [2]

Of course, Elsa wanted to make an appearance even if she would not know a Wildgans' piece if it politely tapped her on the arm.

Or hit her in the face, Georg laughed to himself.

Georg, on the other hand, had enjoyed reading Wildgans' work as a young man in the Navy.

While Georg would have preferred to have been back at home with the children - and Maria - here he was.

The patrons were all seated on the patio behind the Kelten Museum that overlooked the Salzach enjoying after dinner conversation while they waited for the play to begin. He planned to do his best to enjoy a work that he'd never seen before, although he knew the plot well. Thankfully the evening was warm - but not too warm. There was a light breeze blowing that ruffled his hair but didn't send it tumbling.

All things considered, Georg had been enjoying a relaxing evening. Anytime he was able to sit along the water was a bonus. Dinner was lovely and the after-dinner port was smooth and mellow. However, as the evening shifted gears from dining to theatre, he found himself getting restless. He normally loved drama, but for now the drama inside his head was not appearing on the makeshift stage the acting company had constructed on the terrace. Instead, it was back in Aigen.

Maria.

The winking. The billiards. The fallout from opera.

Ah! the opera and that damn purple dress. He had had the hardest time not looking at her all night long Saturday - putting his Captain's mask on was almost a necessity, lest his peers observe him practically drooling over her. It had been mentally exhausting! Thankfully, Maria had forgiven him for his missteps that evening: it was as though the whole thing had never happened.

That evening she had carried herself so wonderfully - confidently - beautifully - as she mingled with the who's who of Salzburg. Maria was full of surprises and contradictions. In fact, the more Georg got to know her, the more impressed he was. She may have come from a poor village on the side of the Patscherkofel, but he realized she was his equal in many ways. Smarts. Poise. During the golden days of his blissful marriage, Agathe could very well tell him off and reach him in ways no other person could, but she always deferred to him as the man of the house. Furthermore, she never participated in activities that were below those expected of a countess's daughter, especially as they welcomed children into their lives.

Maria, on the other hand, had offered him something he had never experienced in a woman. She wasn't afraid to get dirty, climbed trees, and played pool. She was not afraid of his dark moods, and she would gladly - and gleefully - point out when he was wrong. There was something about all of this that he found comforting...

Compelling...

Erotic...?

Georg straightened his tie and cleared his throat, trying to get his thoughts under control. He looked around the patio and observed many familiar faces from the theatre crowd from Salzburg and area. He nodded tightly across the open-air dining room to Wolfgang Reinhardt who was seated with a tall, dark-haired woman in a yellow dress several tables over.

Womanizing scoundrel!

Outwardly, Georg was being polite and genteel as possible, but on the inside, he wanted to wring the man's neck for taking liberties with his governess.

Ah yes, his governess. So much for getting his thoughts in order...

All around him, the women were beautiful. Cool elegance and sharp lines. Fancy hats and red lips. Expensive jewelry and high heels. Across the 2-seater round table from him was Elsa. Again, one of the loveliest in attendance. But despite all that, everywhere he looked he saw Maria.

~The young woman stage left who walked - no, skipped - like her.

~The one over two tables whose voice was melodic like hers.

~The server with the short haircut.

~Another still with bare shoulders in a deep purple dress.

He rubbed the tension out between his eyes. Blinking hard, he tried to refocus his attention on the play that had just begun.

It was useless.

Maria played billiards and had even beat a Knight? She had made money playing pool?

She was spontaneous. She loved life. She had a way with children. The household staff adored her. She drew people to her.

Like him.

And yet she was going to be a nun.

What a damn waste! He thought to himself.

But wait! Worst. Nun. Ever?

Those had been her words, not his! If he had not been so preoccupied with getting her to accept his apology that night, he would have pursued this outburst a little further. Now he was curious. Did it mean what he thought it meant?

Maria had said she wanted to see what Wolfgang would offer her. Really, this was the closest he had come to see Maria questioning her vocation since they had met. But, she just could not possibly settle for something that a scoundrel like Wolfgang had to offer. Just the thought of him and her...together...made the bile gather in the back of his throat. With a man like that, wasn't she was better off just staying with her Reverend Mother?

Really, though, was there any man that was good enough for Maria? Someone that Georg could feel somewhat comfortable with, and comfortable with the idea of them being together in the first place?

And, what about this afternoon, then? He was quite sure she was purposely going out of her way to push his buttons - dare he say she was even flirting with him? Not by accident or shear naïveté. He knew Maria's expressions better than he knew his own by this point, and yet, he had never seen that level of sass from her.

And that wink. The way Maria had tapped her teeth while maintaining that pillowy, pouty lower lip.

He wondered how it would taste if his lips finally touched hers; how would it feel to run his fingertips along them? Would his gaze smolder as he watched her grab his finger gently with her teeth and deftly pull it in between her lips, running her tongue along the underside.

It was a terrible moment for the majority of Georg's blood flow to by-pass his brain and head for an inopportune location. But what else could he expect when his thoughts were less than pure tonight? He grimaced and picked up his linen napkin from the table, pretending to wipe the corner of his mouth, before setting it strategically in his lap.

Forcing his attention to the back of Elsa's head, he tried to forget about Maria. He started counting bobby pins to distract himself. How ever did Elsa manage to do this with her hair? No wonder it seemed to take her forever to get ready each morning.

Did she sleep with those in her hair, he wondered?

Georg now cherished the memory of pulling Agathe's Chinese hair pin from the back of her head at the end of the day. Her sandy brown hair flowing down over her shoulders like water. Oh, how he'd love just one more chance to do it all again. Looking at Elsa once more, he realized letting her hair down could be classified as an exercise in torture, hardly an exquisitely exotic experience as it was with Agathe.

What would it be like, I wonder, to run my fingers through the strands at the base of Maria's hairline? To run my fingertips along the long line of her neck. To visit that hollow spot behind her ear where I'd gladly place my lips time and time again?

This distraction thing was not working.

He could not shake these thoughts, but he could not refocus on Elsa, either. Or the play for that matter.

Was Maria sent to the villa to torture him this summer? To challenge his resolve before he finally settled down with the lovely Elsa Schraeder, to whom he owed a great debt?

Perhaps marriage the answer. Maybe if he'd just propose and move on with his life, he would not be constantly sidelined with all these distractions.

Georg closed and locked the gate before returning to the car and pulling the Horch up to the front door. As he killed the engine, he looked over to the passenger seat where Elsa was asleep, her head leaning on the glass of the windowpane. Lovely Elsa...but when he tried to imagine a future together, it was just so hard. Is this really what he would wake up to every morning? Georg supposed it would be a decent life, but it could never be a blissfully happy one.

He had that once, and surely that kind of love only came around once in a lifetime.

Grasping her shoulder, Georg gently stroked the length of Elsa's arm. She garbled something unintelligent before turning her head towards him. Her eyelids soon fluttered open, and she yawned and stretched like a cat.

"Oh Georg, dahling. I must have fallen asleep! Thank goodness you were able to stay awake, for we might have ended up in the Salzach!" she said with a sleepy giggle.

"Elsa, I think your martinis have caught up to you!" Georg said with a laugh.

"I do say, Georg, you've hit the nail on the head - actually, let's not talk about my head. It's pounding!" Elsa exclaimed. "I hope you won't find me a terrible boor if I head right to bed. I doubt I will even get this mascara off before closing my eyes for the night."

Georg by this point had exited the car and was on his way to Elsa's side. He opened her door and extended his arm to help her onto the gravel, her high-heeled shoes wobbling on the uneven surface. She momentarily lost her balance, but Georg steadied her.

"Woah, there, my dear! Let's get you inside", he whispered.

The entered through the front door and Georg helped her up the first few steps on her way to her room. She stopped and grabbed the railing, moving down a step before leaning in to peck him on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Georg. It was a lovely evening as always".

"Goodnight, Elsa, sleep well."

Elsa grasped the railing for support once more as she took a step, then another; her legs unbalanced from too many martinis. Georg watched her climb to the top, and once he was certain she would not go tumbling backward, he proceeded down the six stairs into the foyer and headed towards his study.

Pulling his key from his jacket pocket, he unlocked the door and fumbled along the wall until he found the floor lamp. He grabbed the chain, and he could see once more. Mind you, he had stumbled into this dark room so many times drunk as a skunk. He knew his way around the villa with his eyes closed and three sheets to the wind. Thank goodness those days were behind him.

He moved towards his desk and took his jacket off, setting it over the back of his chair. It was much too stuffy in the villa this evening to warrant all these layers.

He stopped to open the window before he sat down heavily in his desk chair. Leaning back against the leather, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Linking his fingers together on his lap, he slowly opened his eyes again and they immediately landed on the Etty painting on the far wall.

The copper haired siren. Maria's doppelgänger.

He studied her form from afar. This painting had hung in his study for years, and only recently had it begun to stir something inside of him. A craving for something he could not identify. A dull ache. A burning sensation deep inside. Sometimes he felt light-headed.

Why was this happening?

He rose from the chair and wandered over to the image. Standing before it, all he saw was her - all the other sirens disappeared from his view, much like his perspective a few hours ago in Hallein. He lifted his right index finger and slowly began to trace her form. He started at the tips of her outstretched fingers, slowly following along her arm. He paused as his fingers dipped over the muscles in her shoulder, down across her chest, over the swell of her breast and along her torso, following the line of her thigh until it disappeared into her sari.

He swallowed hard.

What was this? What is THIS thing? This constant pining for her? It was completely inappropriate!

How many times over the past few weeks had he thought about her non-stop, then unsuccessfully attempted to exorcise her from his thoughts? Oh, there were days when he was quite proud of himself for ridding himself of the problem that was Maria, but no sooner had he boasted to himself, he would soon realize that this constant desire to be near her was consuming. He needed to hear her voice, to catch a whiff of the scent that was uniquely her. These feelings, urges, desires...they roared back each time with renewed strength.

Was he hopeless?

What had happened to the fine and brave Captain? The patient Captain who hunted ships in the dark. The Captain whose resolve was stronger than the most durable submarine. Now, he felt like putty whenever she was near. He had to make it stop...somehow.

Georg had promised Agathe he would find love again, and although he told her what she wanted to hear, he knew he would die loving her only. Elsa was safe in that way, because while she was a good friend and good company, he did not love her. Thus, he did not risk losing his heart to her.

Georg had been with other women - both before his marriage and after Agathe had passed. However, those were only lustful feelings. He had his way with them and there were no commitments, no strings attached. Rarely did he even think of them now. He had known lust and he had known true love and was intimately familiar with how they both felt. And yet, these sensations that overcame him whenever he thought about Maria could not be classified as either. What in God's name was it, then?

Attraction? Of course.

Gratitude? Definitely.

Friendship? Most certainly.

He also felt those things for Elsa, too; and yet, whenever he thought about Maria, well they were not even remotely the same feelings.

Was it Maria's youth and vitality? Was it because she was forbidden? Because she wanted to hide herself and all that she could offer the world and be a nun? It had to be the forbidden thing?

Georg sighed heavily and shook his head in disbelief, running his fingers through his hair.

He moved to go and sit at his desk once more but paused. His eyes glanced back to the painting of the sirens, and he walked towards the door, grasping the doorknob tightly. As if his legs were moving without being told, Georg found himself in the foyer once more as he pulled the study door closed behind him. Straightening his shoulders and standing tall, he marched across the expanse of the quiet foyer and down the hall towards the billiards room.

Because ... why not?

Maria had this way of making him feel alive, more like himself. He was craving her company; tomorrow he could deal with whatever this was. Maybe being in her company would help him sort out these questions that were nagging him.

Moderation was, perhaps, the answer to his problems.

[1] Johann Iskrić was an officer in the Austro-Hungarian Army born in Serbia when it was part of the Empire. He received the Knight's Cross for his bravery in the Battles of the Isonzo. He was a general in the Croatian armed forces in WWII. His snooker skills are completely unknown to the world and are yet another figment of my imagination.

[2] Anton Wildgans was nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature four times. Wikipedia says that his works, "in which realism, neo-romanticism and expressionism mingle, focus on the drama of daily life. Initially a lawyer and magistrate, he eventually dedicated his life to writing."