AN: Here we are, the last chapter to this piece.

I do hope that you enjoy! If you do, please consider leaving a comment or review to let me know!

111

Maria stopped by the bed, a bit frozen with indecision about what to do. Georg wanted to have a private conversation before bed. She was well aware of that, but she wasn't sure how he intended their evening ablutions to go, or what order he thought everything would be best accomplished tonight.

And she felt, honestly, too tired and heartsick to bother having any opinion for herself about how they ought to handle things.

Georg entered the room after her. They'd put all the children to bed and the house was mostly silent. It was quiet enough that she heard the click of the door as he closed it. He paused for a moment—what seemed to be a very long one—with his back to her. Then, he straightened his shirt as he turned around to face her.

"I shall assume that your choice to remain here, and not to flee to the bath, means that you're ready to talk to me?"

Maria felt struck. For a split second, she even felt as though she'd lost the breath in her chest.

"Flee to the bath?" She asked, when she found her voice. She heard her own tone. She thought, perhaps, she ought to apologize for it. She hadn't meant for it to come out so sharply. But, then, she did feel so many things brewing inside her, maybe anger was one of them.

Georg laughed quietly. She sensed it wasn't a laugh of humor but, rather, one of surprise.

"Yes—well—at least you are speaking to me," he said. "It's a vast improvement over your silence this evening."

"Silence?" Maria said.

He hummed and nodded his head.

"You hardly spoke at dinner," he said. "You said…nothing…while we were on our walk. You barely spoke to me during the game with the children."

"You haven't allowed me to say anything!" Maria said.

"Allowed?" He countered. "Nonsense. I haven't stopped you from saying a word."

Maria waved her hand at him.

"You have told me what I will do, and what I shall think, and what I should feel at every turn," Maria said.

"That's ridiculous," he countered.

"No, it isn't," Maria said. He started to speak again. "Even now, you're…attempting to tell me what I should feel about you telling me what I should feel." He stopped. She realized that he was purposefully biting his tongue. He was giving her a chance to speak. She'd felt her whole body tensing, and now she felt some of that tension begin to dissipate as she realized that her husband was listening to her. "And—you are my husband. I understand that, ultimately, you do have the final word over…well, everything. And I love you, Georg. I do. I love you, and I trust you to always have my best interest at heart—the best interest of our family."

"Of course," Georg said. "In everything. Always, Maria."

Maria swallowed. She feared that she might burst into tears. She could feel her throat aching. She could feel the tears prickling her eyes and, worse, swelling like a wave around her lower lid. She didn't want to weep, but she felt unable to stop it. It seemed entirely beyond her control these days.

"I know that," Maria said. "And I trust you. You are my husband, so I will…let you speak for me…but…"

As the warm tears flowed out of her eyes, she found herself wrapped in Georg's arms. She had no need to look for a handkerchief, at the moment, because he pressed her face against his chest. His clothing absorbed the hot tears that flowed out of her as she wrapped her arms around him, held him, and nuzzled her face against him.

Finding herself in his arms—surrounded by the strength of him and soothed by the beating of his heart—Maria let herself relax and weep. She didn't hold it back. She let out every tear that she'd been swallowing back since the first had begged escape over the dress. She dug deep and found a few from the past few weeks that she wetted Georg's shirt with as he held her.

It was only when the wave had begun to pass that she truly noticed that he wasn't only holding her. He was stroking her head and her back. He was, essentially, crooning to her, soft and low, with a repetition of words that was meant, truly, to simply soothe her.

"My love…hush now, my love…all is well, the world is not ending…my love…"

Slowly, Maria felt herself quieting. She felt her emotions ebbing. She felt, at once, tired and strangely exhilarated and hopeful. She pulled out of the embrace, finally, and Georg produced a handkerchief from his pocket, which he used to mop at her face like she was one of the children.

He tipped her face up to finish cleaning it and, when he was satisfied, he smiled at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"My Maria," he breathed out. "My love. Have I been so unknowingly cruel to you?"

"You haven't been cruel, Georg," she said, shaking her head. "I'm feeling…well…a good deal out of sorts. I'm sorry. The tears are…they keep coming, despite my best efforts."

"That's to be expected," he offered, cupping her face and brushing his thumb against her cheek, swiping away a few tears. "I learned a few things, over the years, and one is that…little ones have their own ways of showing themselves. My apologies, Maria, for having silenced you. Will you speak to me now? We have all night for whatever is concerning you."

Maria laughed quietly.

"We have to sleep," she said.

"Do you have so much to say that you doubt we'll sleep?" He asked, amused. "Have I been so neglectful?"

"No," Maria said, shaking her head. "Of course, you haven't."

She felt more relaxed than she had in a while. She was thankful for it. She felt like she could breathe, again, a bit easier than before. Maybe Georg could sense it, because he leaned toward her to request a kiss that she would never deny him. It was gentle, and sweet, and it calmed her even more. He let it linger, perhaps choosing to calm her with the kiss.

"Talk to me," he said, softly, when the kiss broke. "Tell me what's on your mind—what I haven't allowed you to say."

"I don't know where to begin," she admitted.

"The beginning, then," he said with a laugh. "The children tell me that you tell them that's the best place to start."

She smiled at him. She laughed, quietly. The feeling of it—laughter and happiness—in her chest was so welcomed.

"I don't want us to hire a governess," she said, the words spilling out of her quickly. "I don't. I hate the idea of it, Georg. It…it makes me feel positively unwell. I can't stand it."

"A governess…" He mused. "Your primary concern is whether or not we should hire a governess? But—Maria—with seven children and another to join us within the year, it is best for you if we hire one."

"I don't think that I could bear it," Maria said. "Please—Georg."

She felt it rising up in her—everything she'd felt rising up every time that Georg had suggested that they might hire a governess. Each time he brought it up, she felt overwhelmed with emotion. This time was no different. Her heart drummed at a ridiculous speed, and her knees suddenly felt like they hardly belonged to her at all.

This time, though, instead of feeling like she was supporting herself on shaky knees, she felt the strength of Georg holding her close. She felt the brush of his lips as he kissed her face and forehead—something he seemed to do, sometimes, without truly realizing.

"I don't want you to be overtired, my love," Georg said. "A governess will help you with all of your responsibilities. She'll help with the children."

"I don't want her to help with the children," Maria said. She pulled away from him enough that he'd be forced to look at her. She wanted him to see her. "Georg—I…am not the chidlren's mother. And I will never try to replace Agathe."

"They understand that," Georg said. "As do I. But—you are their mother, now."

"As much as I can be," Maria said. "But—barely. It's all so new…for me and for them. I keep imagining a governess here and, suddenly…she has their attention. She's who they go to if they want comfort, or an ear. She's the one who spends time with them. The one they want to spend time with. Georg…I don't want to lose them so soon…"

"You will never lose them," Georg said. "When the baby comes, Maria, you will be tired…and you're already…well…"

"What?" Maria pressed. He made a face at her and her heart kicked up its speed a bit. "Now, who's the one that's not speaking?" Her heart fluttered as her chest flooded with affection for the man in front of her. "I'm your wife. Your helpmate. You can tell me anything."

He stared at her. He set his jaw, like he could command the entirety of the moment. Then, he softened.

"I love you. Oh—how I love you."

She smiled at him.

"I love you, too," she assured him. "So very much."

"You seem…tired. A little distant from me. There's a heaviness, there, Maria, that I can't help but notice, but I don't know how to fix it." He stroked her face and hair gently, lovingly. "I know that I shouldn't, but I can't help it. I recall Agathe. I watched her slip away from me, as the fever took her. Others survived it. Some said it was because they were stronger. I've wondered if…she couldn't fight as hard as some, because she had worn herself out being everything that she could be to all of us…"

Maria's chest ached. She softened a bit more toward her husband. She touched his face, this time, and he turned his face to kiss her hand. He caught her wrist, holding her there, and he closed his eyes. He kissed her palm and, then, moving her hand, kissed her wrist. His lips lingered over her wrist, pressing into her skin.

"I can feel your heart beating," he said, "and I know that…mine can continue on."

He massaged her wrist in his hand—an almost painful moment that she endured for his sake, without mentioning that it wasn't entirely pleasant—and then he held her hand.

"You want a governess because—you're worried about me?"

"I cannot bear to be without you," he said. "My heart can't take it."

"And I can't bear to have a governess," Maria said, shaking her head. "My heart can't take it. Georg…I think of her, here. I think of her suddenly having my place with the children. In my mind's eye, I can imagine our baby here. I can imagine her taking it from my arms, Georg, to care for it…instead of me. I think of her being close to you. If I weren't here, if I couldn't be here…but…"

"I am going to stop you from speaking," Georg said, gently resting his fingertips against her lips. She could have spoken, if she'd wanted. She stopped, though, and listened to him. "Maria—our children are notoriously difficult. You could never lose them to a governess. At best…she would assist you with the things that you didn't wish to do, not take from you anything that you love. She would…care for the children when we have other responsibilities. She would never—never—take our child from your arms. I would see to it, personally, that she understood that she was never to do any such thing without your request. And as for being close to me…"

He stopped, but a simple look from him asked her everything that he wanted to ask. She heard him, even without the words. He dropped his hand from touching her lips, opening up the space for her to speak, and dropped his hand to knead the muscles of her shoulder. He stopped, letting his thumb rub back and forth over her collarbone as he held her. The little bit of pressure from his hand near her neck comforted her. It fortified her, really.

A part of her felt foolish for every thought that had been drowning her for days. Still, she knew that the feelings were real, and she should share them with Georg. He was her husband, and he loved her. She would ask him to share with her—to be honest with her—and she owed him no less.

"I know that you love me, Georg. And I hope that you know how very much I love you…"

His fingers tightened where they held her, almost painfully.

"I don't like the sound of this," he said, somewhat nervously. "Whatever you're going to say—I would appreciate if you were to say it quickly."

She nodded.

"I am realizing that there's a difference between loving someone—even with all you heart—and finding them physically attractive."

"Do you mean to say that…you no longer find me attractive?" He asked, arching an eyebrow somewhat.

"What?" She asked with a laugh. The idea was unexpected. "That's ridiculous."

"Then, I'm afraid that I don't understand, Maria," he said.

"You won't find me attractive," Maria said.

Now that they were talking about it, even though she'd only just barely given it voice, it didn't seem as overwhelming. Simply sharing it with Georg seemed to file some of the sharpest edges off of it. She felt a rush of relief, just to put it down.

"You are the most beautiful woman I know," Georg said.

"And my figure is already not what it was," Maria said. "My old dresses are too tight."

"But you have new ones," Georg said.

"That's part of the problem," Maria said.

"You don't like them?" Georg asked. "I picked out the patterns and the material. The fault is mine, if they're not suitable. When we go to see the headmaster, tomorrow, and we go shopping, you can choose whatever you like."

"It's not the dresses, Georg," Maria said. "Or the material."

"Maria…" He said, his frustration evident and coming out with just a touch of what might be mistaken for anger. She touched his arm, and she could visibly see his jaw relax.

"It's about the body I'm putting in the dresses," Maria said. "My body is changing." She dropped her hands. She smoothed the dress and pressed her hands to her tummy. "Look, Georg. It's barely noticeable and, yet, I notice it a great deal. I realize it's going to continue to change. It may never be exactly the same as it was."

He laughed.

"It's very doubtful that your body will be the same as it was," he said, pressing his hand between her two. His hand was warm, even through the dress. "When you have given birth, you will look as though you have brought a child into this world. Our child. And when you have done so, again…"

"That's what frightens me," Maria said.

He held her eyes, his brow furrowed.

"You think that—I won't love you, when you've given birth to our child?" He asked. "Our children…however many we may be blessed with?"

"I believe you will love me," Maria said. "I do not believe you're so fickle. I believe you're an honest man. Loyal."

"A hound?" He asked with amusement.

She laughed and shook her head.

"A man," she said. "A wonderful man, but…a man. And, as a man, I couldn't blame you if…you no longer found me attractive. It's only…"

"Only what?" He pressed, clearly intending to hear her speak her piece.

"This is all so new. So wonderful. It's all happening so fast, and I'm not ready to lose it. I'm not ready to lose any of it. And I'm embarrassed to say it, but…" She broke off, trying to decide how honest she could be.

"You've lost nothing, Maria. You will not lose anything. But, say it anyway. Whatever you want to say. Say it," Georg said.

"I enjoy it, Georg, when we make love."

"As do I," Georg said. "A great deal, Maria. I was under the impression that was why we did so, as often as possible, for the pleasure of both of us."

Maria nodded. Her cheeks burned warm.

"It's just that…it's still new to me," she said.

His arms came around her. His hands rested on her hips. He pulled her toward him and her body burned with desire for him. It took no more than that and she wanted him. Her body craved him. She closed her eyes, savoring even the ache of her body desiring his.

Georg tipped her face up. This time, his kiss tasted hungry. His breathing was a touch ragged. Perhaps, at this point, his body still ached for hers in the same way it had. He kissed her hard, and she let out a sound that she hadn't intended to allow to escape.

He broke the kiss with a smile. His eyes seemed dark, as they often did, before he took her to bed.

"You seem to be enjoying it more now," he said. "It isn't as uncomfortable for you. I'm not as uncomfortable for you. You hardly ever seem frightened or nervous."

She smiled at him. She couldn't quite feel in control of her breathing. She hardly felt in control of herself at all.

"I enjoy being with you, immensely," she said. "Even if—it isn't proper to say that…"

"In our bedroom, Maria, nothing is improper unless we decide it to be so," Georg said. "Just as I expect you to speak your mind to me, and tell me when your heart is bruised…I expect you to tell me what brings pleasure and pain to your body."

She bit her lip.

"I hurt not to be with you, sometimes," she said. "I want to be with you. I want to…to feel you. I want to feel your love for me. I need to feel it, Georg."

"In every way, you shall," he said with a smile. "I hadn't meant to neglect you."

"You haven't," Maria said quickly. "But when I think that…maybe someday, even soon…you won't desire me…"

Georg tightened his hold on her, pulling her body against his and nearly lifting her off of her feet. He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck for a moment, before he kissed the crook of her neck. He didn't let go of her at all.

"I will always desire you," he said. "If you won't believe me, then I'll simply have to be sure to prove it to you, every time you find yourself doubting it."

"You haven't said anything about my dress…" Maria said. "Neither did the children."

Georg laughed.

"I warned them not to," he said. "I thought it might upset you, if we did. Clearly, I was wrong, and caused you the upset, myself."

"You like it?"

"The dress is beautiful," Georg assured her. "And you look beautiful in it. I could hardly keep my eyes off you all evening, not that it honestly makes this evening any different than any other. I can hardly ever stand to take my eyes off of you, Maria. However, what I'm most interested in is seeing you out of your new dress."

Maria's heart soared with the teasing—and the promise behind it.

"Will you help me out of it?"

"It will be my pleasure," he said. "And—while I'm doing that, I would like to hear more about what would be your pleasure."