"Sorry I'm late, Captain…" mumbling an apology, Maria's hands gripped the back of the chair a little tighter. Desperately trying to avoid his eyes, she settled on somewhere above his right shoulder, staring at nothing in particular, as a fresh wave of panic washed over her.

How on Earth was she supposed to get through dinner…?

Reminding herself she was here for the children, she tried to catch her breath. Perhaps if she counted in her head between each breath, it might slow her breathing. One, two... It didn't help. Her chest was tight and she was still struggling for air. The humiliation, the horror… Tightening her grip on the back of the chair, she would just have to make the best of it. Face your fears, she told herself with much less conviction than she'd told Liesl little more than an hour ago.

Georg cursed himself for allowing his attention to settle on the rapid rise and fall of Maria's chest. He shouldn't even be noticing those kind of things. But he couldn't help it. Whenever she was out of breath, flushed and wonderfully flustered, she always looked more tempting than ever. Shifting his eyes upward, to what he hoped was safer ground, he quickly realised her wide blue eyes were equally dangerous territory. Dropping his gaze an inch or two, he hesitated, wondering if that was a blush or a flush colouring her cheeks.

Her apology still hanging awkwardly around the table, he suddenly realised all eyes were on him, waiting for a response. He gave her an awkward half smile – your apologising is ridiculous, Fraulein. It was followed by an almost imperceptible nod – but, if you must, apology accepted...

Realising her eyes had found his, despite all her good intentions, Maria replied with a quick nod. Thank you, Captain. She frowned a little, noticing his eyes seemed weary. Dark circles, lids heavy… Wondering why he might be tired, she scolded herself for allowing her gaze to linger. Quickly dropping her eyes to her hands, she discovered she was still standing. Busying herself with the chair, its legs scraped across the parquetry floor as she hurriedly dragged it away from the table.

"Don't sit all the way down there!" Max called out in what was supposed to be a friendly voice. But against the deafening silence of the near-empty dining room, it sounded harsh and abrupt. Noticing the girl had jumped a little, he smoothed his moustache, contemplating. The poor thing seemed unusually skittish. "Come sit here, Fraulein Maria…" his kinder tone was accompanied with a pat on the empty place beside him.

"Thank you, Herr Detweiler…" Maria shook her head and took her seat. "But I'd…"

"I insist…" Max persisted.

As it so often did, Georg found his treacherous mind circling back to their first dinner. Studying Maria as she settled in her seat, he could still hear her squeal of surprise as she sat on that ridiculous pinecone. But you covered for the children, didn't you, Fraulein? Irritated at the time – well, everything irritated him back then – it was only later when he realised, that was the moment she began to win over the children. Winning over them all, he thought wryly. So much had happened since their first evening. He narrowed his eyes at her. Wherever would we be without you, Fraulein…

Too late to shut down that train of thought, it was impossible to ignore the inevitable question that followed. He sighed. Where will we be without you…? They'd all had a glimpse these past days, and none of them liked it. The children's subdued play, no laughter, no joy, they'd even lost their song. He'd tried his best to coax a smile from them, but perhaps they'd sensed his heart wasn't in it either. Not without her. Images from the morning after the party engulfed him, descending like a dark, sombre cloud.

Strange how life was now signposted by "before the party" or "after the party"…

With some effort, Georg forced himself to concentrate on the ongoing banter between Maria and Max. Fraulein, you have no idea, the hold you have over us. As Max tried to cajole her to move beside him, Georg wasn't sure what he feared more – Maria remaining seated at the far end of the table looking directly at him, or moving closer. Unbearably close…

Still debating which option was his point of least resistance, his attention was broken by a throat being cleared somewhere behind his right shoulder. Spinning his head, he realised Franz had returned to the dining room with a bottle of burgundy. Not one to waste any effort on a change in expression, let alone unnecessary words, the butler held up the bottle – one hand around the neck, the other cradling the base. Responding with a single, curt nod, Georg realised he would have agreed to anything – even a bottle of turpentine – as long as it provided a distraction from the awkward, uncomfortable atmosphere around the table. How the Hell was he supposed to get through dinner…

Franz tried to conceal his surprise – or more accurately, disgust – at seeing the governess perched at the dining table. Surely, she could see, there was no place set for her. He turned to the bureau in the corner of the room to retrieve the corkscrew. Uncorking the bottle with a minimum of fuss, he turned back to the table and cast a critical eye to where the governess was seated. Does she realise how absurd she looks! Stepping to the head of the table, he went to pour a mouthful or two of the rich-coloured wine into the Captain's glass, but was met by a shake of the head. The Captain was right. It was the same vintage of burgundy from two nights earlier, so it was unlikely tonight's bottle would be tainted.

Walking silently to the right-hand side of Baroness Schraeder, he began filling her wine glass. Pouting even more than usual, the Baroness didn't so much as glance in his direction. Not that she ever did. Hell would likely freeze over the day she acknowledged a member of staff. As far as she was concerned, he might as well have been invisible. Others, especially the silly young maids, found her rude and conceited, but he wouldn't have it any other way. The butler who moved around the villa unnoticed. He smiled to himself. Finally, all those years of bleeding into the background were starting to pay dividends.

Sighing softly, he supposed he'd have to go to the kitchen and break the news to Cook. A fourth serving of dinner was required. Lifting the bottle from Baroness Schraeder's glass, he shot a look at the governess. What makes her think she has any right to sit at the Captain's table? She'd barely been back five minutes, he sniffed, and was already overstepping her mark by a long margin.

Silently stepping behind the Captain, he stopped to fill Herr Detweiler's glass. It will probably be empty before I put the bottle down. He returned the nod of thanks from the Captain's friend. The man never seemed to have a real job, but at least he was pleasant and friendly. More than could be said for Baroness Schraeder, with all her airs and graces…

Pausing beside the Captain, Franz filled his glass with burgundy. Bracing himself, he wished he didn't have to ask the Captain about the girl. He resented giving her a moment of his time, or any acknowledgement. "Shall I set another place, sir?" he enquired in a low voice.

Bristling at Franz's surly tone, Georg frowned and nodded abruptly at the butler. Did he expect Maria to eat with her hands? Still frowning, he turned his attention back to the banter between Maria and Max. As much as he preferred she remain seated at a safe distance, his friend was right. It was ridiculous for Maria to sit so far away. And it only highlighted the absence of the children. He shifted uneasily in his chair…

"Erhm… sir?"

"What…?" Georg snapped impatiently, wondering why Franz was still standing beside him.

"I don't believe…" Franz paused and looked at the governess. She was still in conversation with Herr Detweiler, but he dropped his voice anyway. "I don't believe Cook has catered for a fourth setting…"

"I'm sure something can be arranged," Georg answered, his irritation obvious. "If there's no more entrées in the kitchen, take mine." The click of Elsa's tongue didn't go unnoticed, but he refused to acknowledge it. "I haven't touched it…" he added, in case there was any doubt.

"Of course, sir," Franz nodded, maintaining his cool demeanour but seething at being made to look a fool through no fault of his own. He placed the bottle of wine on the bureau and tugged at the handles of the cutlery drawer. He wished someone had mentioned Fraulein Maria would be joining the Captain, Baroness Schraeder and Herr Detweiler for dinner. Really, was it too much to ask? Frau Schmidt had only told him ten minutes ago the governess had returned. And she called herself the housekeeper! He snorted to himself, trying not to take his frustration out on the cutlery, lest he make too much noise. Running an efficient household was nigh on impossible when everything was so chaotic...

"…I really do insist, Fraulein Maria," Max was not one to give up so easily. Under no illusion, he realised the slim possibility of entering the von Trapp children in the upcoming Festival could only become a reality if their lovely governess was in his corner, giving her blessing. God knows, if she could encourage Georg to throw open the doors to the ballroom, then she'd be able to convince the cantankerous old fool of anything. Even the children singing at the Salzburg Festival.

Taking a mouthful of the burgundy, Max marvelled at its smoothness and rich notes. He placed the glass on the table, sighing at his friend's obstinance. The children's performance on the night of the party had brought rapturous applause, but still, Georg hadn't budged. "Fraulein Maria, come sit beside me," he insisted with a smile and a twinkle of mischief in his eye. "I want to hear all about what you've been doing these past days…" he added, keenly aware the young lady was unlikely to cast one of her spells over Georg from so far away.

Georg shot Max a dark look. Since when had his friend been so interested in Maria. He tightened his jaw. Since when had he been so jealous…?

"Thank you, Herr Detweiler," Maria could feel her cheeks growing warmer, "but I really would prefer to stay in my usual seat…"

Closing the drawer, Franz turned back to the table with a set of cutlery in hand. Frowning between Herr Detweiler and Fraulein Maria, he couldn't believe they were still bickering over the seating arrangements like a pair of spoilt children. Honestly, she should just be told to eat in the kitchen like the rest of them. That would solve the problem…

"…Georg, tell Fraulein Maria, she can't possibly sit all the way down there," Max persisted, ignoring Elsa's dark look from across the table.

Georg clenched his hand, wondering whether Max had always sounded like one of the children. "You can move closer if you like, Fraulein…" he waved his hand nonchalantly in the air, trying to appear indifferent. Instinctively, his breath caught at the possibility of her moving closer. Hanging on her answer, it took a moment to realise, he was holding his breath…

"No, no, it's alright, Captain," Maria called out from the far end of the table. Just in case it wasn't obvious already how ridiculous the new dinner arrangements were, she was determined to prove a point. "I'm happy to stay here."

"You should move closer, Fraulein," Georg looked at her – properly looked at her – for the first time since she sat down. Her blue eyes were wide, dancing. A spark of a challenge, if he weren't mistaken."Franz, set a place next to Herr Detweiler," he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the butler.

"Franz, I'd rather not move, thank you," Maria announced, smiling at the butler, who hesitated.

Georg spun away from the butler, back to the end of the table. She was looking directly at him. Was that a show of defiance? The challenge was now a full rebellion.

"I couldn't possibly sit in one of the children's places," she cocked her head a little to the side at the Captain. Why aren't the children here?

Georg's thumb drummed the table – once, twice, then a third time. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he cleared his throat. "As you wish, Fraulein," he conceded. It wasn't the time or the place to argue over seating arrangements. Especially, when she held the high ground. He felt guilty enough as it was, without her pointing out the obvious. He should never have agreed to Elsa's ridiculous dinner arrangements. But then, that wasn't the only arrangement he'd stupidly rushed into with Elsa. Retreating into the safety of a guilty silence, he nodded at Franz, who was standing motionless with the full set of cutlery still in hand.

Maria shifted her eyes to Franz as he moved toward her. Breathing a little easier, hopefully, she'd show the Captain how wrong he was to banish the children from dinner. Forcing an air of confidence, she leaned back in her chair, watching on as Franz set the forks down on the left side of her place at the table.

What other changes had Baroness Schraeder made? There were certain to be more. But for now, she would point out this ridiculous arrangement. True, dinner would be awkward, but then, it was always going to be awkward. Sitting here with the Captain and Baroness Schraeder, feeling like an intruder, the least she could do was stand up for the children.

Leaning a little to the left, she waited for Franz to lay the knives and spoon down in their correct order. She couldn't leave knowing things might be worse for the children than when she arrived. Her eyes shifted to Baroness Schraeder. Surely, she wouldn't send the children to boarding school…

Appearing composed and unruffled, Elsa was anything but. She couldn't believe the audacity of the girl, turning up for dinner. And trust her to be late, as usual! Always one to make an entrance, always trying to catch Georg's attention. Of course, she'd swanned to the seat at the far end of the table just to make a point. She'd gone out of her way to have a friendly chat with the girl, and thought she'd been crystal clear. Was the nun stupid…? At least it would be easy to ignore her when she was seated so far away. She would just have to monopolise Georg's attention – that would be easy – and keep him entertained…

Taking a sip of wine, she was certain the girl was trying her patience on purpose. But she wondered why Max was making such a fuss. Shifting her glare across the table, he was up to something. Why would he keep insisting the girl sit beside him? Surely, it wasn't to be entertained by her witty banter and amusing conversation. The girl didn't possess either. As if reading her mind, Max shot a mischievous smile across the table. Perhaps he was simply having fun, winding her up. Well, she'd have words with him later. And as for the nun…

Elsa froze. She could feel the girl's eyes boring into her cheek. Turning slowly, she narrowed her eyes at the impertinence. Not breaking eye contact, she dropped her head a little to the side. Young lady, you're supposed to be eating in the kitchen…

Forcing herself to hold the Baroness' glare, Maria refused to look away. Thankfully, after a second or two, Herr Detweiler said something that demanded Baroness Schraeder's attention. Shifting her eyes, instinctively they found the Captain at the head of the table. But within moments, Franz was bustling into the dining room. Looking unusually ruffled, the butler leaned down to say a few words to the Captain, who simply nodded. The Captain was bothered or irritated about something. She sucked in a breath.

Perhaps, the Captain was annoyed at her…

Only last week, the von Trapp's home had been her favourite place in the world, but now, she'd give anything to be anywhere else. Wishing she'd never been sent back, she regretted ever telling the Reverend Mother about her feelings for the Captain, much less what Baroness Schraeder had told her. Normally, she wouldn't dare question the Reverend Mother's advice or wisdom, but coming back had been a horrible mistake. You need to find out! That's what the Reverend Mother had told her as she had sent her on her way. Well, she thought sadly, she'd found out. The Captain would never have proposed to Baroness Schraeder if he was in love with another woman. If he was in love with her…

The few pieces of her heart that hadn't already broken, crumpled right there at the table. Don't cry, you're not allowed to cry, not here… Biting hard on her bottom lip, it took a moment to realise the butler was picking up the Captain's plate and walking toward her. Not wearing his customary blank expression, Franz's features looked pinched. With a furrowed brow she looked along the length of the table at the Captain. What are you doing?

Georg leaned back in his chair, ignoring another disapproving click of Elsa's tongue. He answered Maria's frown with the slightest movement of the corner of his mouth, and a hint of a shrug. We didn't know you'd be here for dinner, what do you expect me to do…?

Maria looked up at Franz as he placed the entrée on the table between the cutlery laid out in front of her. Her eyes dropped to what looked like a slice of onion tart, before they shot up to the Captain. "Oh, no, Captain…" she shook her head at him, the shared look between Baroness Schraeder and Herr Detweiler going unnoticed. "I don't want your entrée."

"No, no, Fraulein…" Georg waved his hand in the air. I can't eat in front of you, not when you have nothing. "I haven't touched it…"

"But…"

"No buts…" his words were a little more abrupt than he'd hoped. "I doubt they've been feeding you properly at the Abbey." You're looking thin…

"Well, the meals might not be quite so fancy," she answered defensively, "but the Reverend Mother doesn't make a habit of starving her nuns and postulants."

"Hmph…" he answered, narrowing his eyes at her. Despite weeks spent running after his children from sun up to sun down, she'd put on some much-needed weight since arriving at the start of summer. It had only been four days since the night of the party, but she looked like she'd lost all of that and more. Don't argue with me, Fraulein, just eat…

"Thank you, Captain…" holding his eyes a little longer than necessary, she finally nodded, acknowledging the kindness of his gesture.

He gave her a curt nod. You're welcome, Fraulein.

"In case you're wondering, Fraulein Maria," Max noticed her study the tart on the plate in front of her, "it's a pissaladière."

"Oh…" Maria shot Herr Detweiler a grateful look, even though she didn't feel any the wiser.

"Fraulein…" raising his voice, Georg paused and watched her eyes lift from her plate. God, he'd missed those blue eyes. Clearing his throat, he scuttled his wayward thoughts. "We haven't started…" he glanced disapprovingly at Max's slice of tart with its missing mouthfuls.

The fork in Elsa's hand froze in mid-air. Just about to take her first bite of the pissaladière, she rolled her eyes before dropping her fork on the edge of the plate. The sound of silverware against the finest bone china pierced the silence, attracting everyone's attention. But she didn't care. All the better if everyone realised, she was far from happy with the situation. Why was Georg giving this girl the time of day, let alone his entrée. She braced herself for what was to come…

oOo

"What's happening…?" Kurt asked.

"Sshhh…." Friedrich, Louisa and Brigitta turned and hissed as one.

"What…?" Kurt shrugged innocently.

"We can't hear anything when you're talking, silly!" Friedrich turned away too quickly to notice his brother had stuck out his tongue and pulled a face.

"Have you heard anything?" Liesl whispered across the room from where she sat on the settee with Marta and Gretl.

Brigitta pushed herself up from the floor in front of the doors dividing the sitting room from the dining room. By the time she reached the settee, Marta had scooted along to make room for her beside Liesl. Sighing, Brigitta dropped on the seat. "Not much…"

"What are they saying?" Marta asked.

"Uncle Max wanted Fraulein Maria to sit beside him, but she wouldn't…" Brigitta announced proudly. "She refused to sit in one of our places."

"Good on her," Liesl nodded, pleased that Fraulein Maria had shown some solidarity with them. "What else…?"

"Sshhh…?" Louisa turned with a forefinger against her lips.

The four girls on the settee nodded.

"Father hasn't said much, Uncle Max is being friendly…" Brigitta dropped her voice, her words barely audible to her sisters sitting beside her. "Baroness Schraeder is being difficult…"

"Well, that's nothing new!" Liesl huffed.

"Is Father happy?" Marta asked.

"I think so…" Brigitta whispered back. "He's just given Fraulein Maria his entrée…"

"Really…?" Liesl murmured, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. How wonderfully romantic… Recalling images of Mamma at mealtimes, sharing her leftovers with Father, a dreamy look settled over her.

"Do you think Father's recovered from the shock?"

Brigitta's words interrupted Liesl's daydreaming and it took her a moment or two before she realised what her younger sister was talking about. "He wasn't expecting Fraulein Maria to return, was he?" Liesl's question was more of a statement, so she didn't wait for an answer. "He was as surprised as anyone…"

"A happy surprise," Brigitta nodded knowingly. She'd watched Father's face light up for the first time since the night of the party. Like when they'd danced…

"What else…?" Liesl asked. "Has Baroness Schraeder said much?"

"Not a word…" Louisa walked toward them with a smile. Truth was, she hadn't stopped smiling since Fraulein Maria appeared on the path, coming through the trees from nowhere. Dropping on the floor in front of the settee, she didn't bother to straighten out her skirt around her. Baroness Schraeder wasn't here to remind her how young ladies were supposed to behave, so why bother, she thought defiantly. "I'd give anything to see the look on Baroness Schraeder's face…"

"We all would!" Liesl laughed.

"She's probably still in shock," Louisa smiled at the thought of the Baroness not being quite so smug. "Oh, Ge-org!" Louisa put on her best Baroness Schraeder voice and airs. "Why don't you take me to the op-er-a?"

The other girls giggled at the near-perfect mimic.

"Or better still, dah-ling," Louisa trilled, "you should throw another par-ty for me!"

"You're way too good at this…" Liesl giggled.

"You need to show me off, Ge-org," Louisa pressed her fingertips against her hair, the way Baroness Schraeder did. "I insist on being the centre of attention!"

The girls tried their best to stifle their laughter.

"I wish Father wasn't marrying her…" Brigitta wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

"We all do…" Liesl muttered. "Now, you two, get back there and find out what's going on," she nodded from Louisa to Brigitta then motioned with her head at the closed double doors to the dining room. "You know the boys are hopeless at this kind of thing…" she muttered under her breath.

Louisa rolled her eyes in agreement before pushing herself up off the floor to take her position across the room.

Watching her sisters push Kurt out of the way and shush his protests, Liesl pulled Marta closer. Sighing, she rested her cheek gently on the top of Marta's head. In a perfect world, Father wouldn't marry Baroness Schraeder and Fraulein Maria could stay forever. Ever since the night of the party, in their prayers before turning in for bed, they'd asked God to return Fraulein Maria to them. They'd done the same when Mamma left them, but this time, He'd brought Fraulein Maria back to them. Perhaps they could ask God to make Father fall in love with Fraulein Maria. Then, there wouldn't be any need for Baroness Schraeder.

Closing her eyes, she was back in the courtyard, watching Father and Fraulein Maria dance the Laendler. They danced so beautifully together, it was magical. Perhaps, they were in love, and just didn't realise. But if that was the case, how could Father be engaged to Baroness Schraeder.

Opening her eyes, she sighed. She knew better than anyone, the world was far from perfect. Dreams coming true were almost as rare as prayers being answered.

oOo

"Fraulein…?"

At the sound of her name, Maria's eyes shot up from the plate in front of her. She was sure her heart had skipped a beat at hearing her name in the Captain's baritone.

"Why don't you thank the Lord?" Georg asked gently, giving her a small nod of encouragement.

Maria looked between Baroness Schraeder, who clearly wasn't happy with the suggestion, and Herr Detweiler, before her eyes returned to the Captain. Are you sure that's a good idea? Once again, the Captain gave her a subtle nod that may have gone unnoticed by anyone who hadn't been studying him as closely as she had these past weeks. Clasping her hands, she closed her eyes, then bowed her head.

"For what we are about to receive…"

Ignoring Elsa bristling beside him, Georg's heart softened as he watched the simple ritual that had become a constant until the night of the party. He smiled. She'd become a constant. It was true. A constant irritation, a constant challenge, a constant source of joy, a constant fascination...

Since that first night, how far they'd come. How far he'd come. Sitting back in his chair, revelling in her return, he wished he could watch her, listen to her, all night.

As if sensing his thoughts – and heart – straying, Elsa placed a hand on his forearm. Slowly shifting his eyes from Maria, along the empty table to Elsa, he was reminded that one thing missing. Well, more precisely, seven things were missing. The two rows of empty seats that stretched along the table to the far end, were an uncomfortable reminder of how he'd let his children to be treated appallingly. And it was at the hands of the woman who would-be their mother. He stared at the hand on his arm, its diamond encrusted, gold rings suddenly seeming flashy and gaudy. He turned guilty eyes to Maria. I'll rectify everything by tomorrow, I promise, Fraulein…

"…may the Lord make us truly thankful…"

Every night since his return from Vienna, those words had reminded Georg of his renewed gratitude. Always a man of faith, his beliefs had been sorely tested over the years. Firstly, during the War, where he'd witnessed the inhumanity of man, and again when he'd lost Agathe. But Maria's arrival all those weeks ago, had given him reason to believe in miracles again, reason to be truly thankful to the Lord. Tonight, he was relieved and grateful Maria had been returned to him – to them. It was a miracle to have her sitting here, and he'd be forever thankful to the Lord for giving him a second chance...

Maria paused for a moment, silently praying for God to reveal His will. There isn't much time, she thought impatiently, hoping His message this time wouldn't be too cryptic or mysterious. She couldn't face another false start, another misreading of His signs. She'd wasted too much of her life already. A moment of silence passed before she blessed herself with a Sign of the Cross. "Amen…" Lifting her chin and slowly opening her eyes, she found the Captain staring at her, his handsome features and soft eyes sucking the wind from her sails. Breathe, remember to breathe…

"Amen…" Georg echoed, murmuring as if in a trance. Despite watching her recite her prayer night after night, it was as if he was seeing her differently. For some mad reason, he wanted to touch her, to hold her, to beg her to never leave them again. It began with a tingle in the fingers on his left hand. He moved them, hoping to shake the sensation. Within moments, his fingers were burning – a desperate, overwhelming need to skate fingertips across her cheek, to feel her soft skin beneath his own. Hurriedly curling his fingers into a fist, he tried to stifle the burn…

Max looked from one end of the table to the other. Not for the first time, he'd caught Georg getting lost in the governess. About to clear his throat, the sound of cutlery on crockery shifted his attention directly across the table to Elsa. Had she noticed, too? If she had, she wasn't letting on. He sighed, watching Georg give the girl an odd kind of smile.

"Erhm…" Max cleared his throat, a little louder than necessary. Breaking the spell between the two, he smiled to himself as the girl quickly became fascinated by her – or shouldn't that be, Georg's – entrée. He turned to his friend, who was busy fussing with the cuff of his jacket. The old fool had forgotten himself. Or, more accurately, he'd forgotten poor Elsa. Again…

"Well, Fraulein Maria…" Max began, deciding the task of breaking the awkward silence around the table had fallen on him.

Maria looked up from her plate to Herr Detweiler.

"It is wonderful having you back," Max deflected Elsa's withering look with a shrug. "Isn't it, Georg?" he added mischievously.

"Mmmm…" Georg mumbled. Telling himself, Max couldn't possibly have noticed anything was astray, he picked up his glass of wine and took a mouthful. Holding onto the glass, he stared across the rim at Maria.

Maria's eyes flickered from Herr Detweiler to the Captain, and then back again. "Thank you, Herr Detweiler," Maria forced a grateful smile for the children's Uncle Max. But the smile quickly dropped away, as she started to wonder and worry about the dinner conversation between the Captain and his guests. What did she know about fashion, or high society, or fancy places? She'd spent countless meals at the same table, and they always seemed deep in conversation, but she'd always been too busy with the children and caught up in their goings-on to pay any attention to the head of the table. Desperate to avoid being dragged into their conversation, she pierced the tart with her fork and began to cut off a small piece.

With his attempts to include Fraulein Maria in the conversation falling flat, Max turned his attention to Elsa. "I spoke to Gunther this afternoon…"

"How is his darling wife?" Elsa asked.

"Still on the mend, but much better it seems," Max took another sip of wine. "The poor woman really has had some wretched luck of late…"

Feeling a little of the tension leave his shoulders, Georg decided dinner might not be so awkward after all, what with Elsa and Max chatting about friends from Vienna, and Maria engrossed in her entrée. Taking another sip, he narrowed his eyes, and studied Maria over the rim of the glass. She looked tired. Those unfamiliar dark circles and puffy eyes were a giveaway that something had been keeping her awake these past nights. He smiled grimly to himself, keenly aware what had been keeping him awake. She probably hasn't a clue the affect she has on him. The affect she's having…

With her mouth so dry, Maria was still struggling with her first mouthful of tart. Staring at her plate, she couldn't help but think, tonight's dinner was fancier than usual. Frau Schmidt hadn't mentioned any special occasion. Was it because of the Captain and Baroness Schraeder's… She shook away the thought, not ready to face that word – not even in her head. Her mouth was getting drier, and she wondered how she'd ever swallow past this first mouthful. Oh, how she wanted to disappear...

She stopped chewing. If that were the reason for tonight's special dinner, surely the children should be here celebrating, too. Still wondering why tonight's entrée was so fancy and Baroness Schraeder's outfit so flashy, she busied herself with cutting another mouthful from the tart, even though she hadn't finished the first. Trying to go unnoticed, concentrating on her entrée far more than necessary, she drifted away from the chatter between Herr Detweiler and Baroness Schraeder about people she didn't know. Half an hour, an hour at the most, and dinner would be over…

Georg wondered what was going on in that pretty head of hers. Have you thought of me, Fraulein? In her note, she'd explained how much she'd missed the Abbey. Perhaps she realised after her return, she didn't miss it that much, after all. Had she'd missed him – them – more. Is that what brought you back?

Taking another sip, for a moment or two, the fog in his head seemed to clear a little. Possibly it was the tannins in the wine, who knows, but a thought struck him with such searing clarity, it felt like a blow to the chest. If she missed them more than the Abbey, why was she leaving again? And so soon…

"Max, I thought you might like to know…" Elsa placed her fork on the edge of the plate.

Maria didn't look up, but she wondered if Baroness Schraeder always spoke so loudly at the dining table. Perhaps she'd never noticed over the chatter and laughter of the children.

"…we've planned another trip to town in the morning," Elsa continued, "haven't we, Georg?"

Georg froze at the feel of her hand on his forearm. "Hmmm…" he mumbled under his breath, glancing to the end of the table to see if Maria had noticed Elsa touching him. Thankfully, she seemed lost in her entrée, even though he'd only watched her eat the one mouthful.

"Another trip to town…?" Max frowned.

"It can't be helped," Elsa squeezed Georg's arm.

Georg wished Elsa would stop touching him, almost as much as he wished dinner could be over. Shifting his arm abruptly, Elsa's hand fell away. He wished he'd eaten with the children, Maria could have joined them, too. But he'd have never got away with that. Perhaps he should have feigned an illness. He could feel a distant, dull ache in his left temple – early, telltale signs of migraine…

"Another fitting before Saturday's garden party," Elsa went on to explain.

"We're having a garden party…?" frowning, Max chewed the last mouthful of tart. He leaned back, wiping the corners of his mouth with the napkin. Surprisingly, Elsa's French entrée wasn't the worst thing he'd eaten. "I know," his eyes lit up as an idea took hold, "the children can sing." He placed the napkin on the table emphatically, pleased with his plan. "You can help set them up with a song or two, maybe a set, can't you, Fraulein?" There was only a lukewarm response from that end of the table, so he turned to his right. "Surely, you'd allow the children to sing at your own garden party, Georg?"

"There won't be any singing," Elsa snapped.

Maria looked up at Baroness Schraeder, taken aback by her harsh reaction.

"But they have the voices of angels…" Max frowned across the table.

"It's a party to celebrate our engagement," Elsa's voice was back to its usual sophisticated tone. "Isn't it, Georg?" she smiled brightly across the table at Max. When there was no response from the head of the table, she turned, wondering why Georg hadn't said a word.

Georg tightened his jaw, biting back the first words that came to mind. Looking at the far end of the table, he begged Maria to look at him. Instead, she was still looking horrified at Elsa. Look at me, Fraulein. But she didn't. Fraulein, I need to explain…

"Well, it looks like you two are off to town," Max's bright tone was in direct contrast to the awkward silence. He glanced at Elsa, wondering what might make her budge on the children's singing. It would be a shame to waste an opportunity like the garden party to showcase their talent. "Does that mean, you'd like me to stay home and look after the children?" he added, turning to Fraulein Maria with a wink. But the girl seemed miles away and wasn't paying any attention.

"Not if today was anything to go by," Georg snapped.

Max laughed at Georg's grumpy response. "Well, despite my best efforts, the children seem happy to have you back, Fraulein Maria," leaning into his chair, Max took a sip of wine. "They've certainly brightened up in the short time since you arrived."

Realising everyone was looking at her, waiting for her to say something, Maria gave Herr Detweiler a smile. Her mouth was still so dry, she'd only just swallowed her first mouthful of tart. Pausing to take a sip of water, she placed her glass on the table. "Oh, I don't think the children's mood has anything to do with me," she side-stepped his kind words.

Watching Maria's smile slip away, Georg frowned. You used to be so happy, Fraulein, what's happened…

"Tell her, Georg…" Max turned to his friend at the head of the table. He frowned. Had Georg just jumped? "The children were miserable, weren't they?" Ignoring the dark look, he turned back to the governess, "almost inconsolable…"

"Oh, I doubt that…" Maria tried to laugh off Herr Detweiler's comments. "Why, they were just telling me before dinner…" she blushed, wondering why she was rabbiting on, "…how they'd spent the afternoon berry picking…"

"Hmph!" Georg snorted from the head of the table. Cursing himself, he wished his harsh response hadn't drawn everyone's attention.

Maria's blue eyes widened at the Captain being so dismissive. What was that for?

"They told you that ridiculous story, too, Fraulein?" Georg raised his brow. Surely, you didn't believe them?

"Ridiculous…?" Placing her fork on the edge of the plate, Maria readied herself to leap to the children's defence if necessary.

"Oh, Ge-org!" Elsa tut-tutted, placing her hand on Georg's forearm. "I'm sure it no longer matters…"

"Did you ask which berries?" Ignoring Elsa's attempt to placate him, Georg didn't break eye contact with Maria,

"Well, no…" Maria conceded, but refusing to cower, she didn't look away. Admittedly, she had thought it strange to be picking berries…

"Argh! I didn't think so," Georg knew he should stop, but for some reason, he couldn't help himself. "First, they said it was blueberries."

"Blueberries…?" Maria frowned. "Isn't it too…"

"Late?" Georg cut her off, finishing her sentence. "Of course, it's too late!" he declared triumphantly.

"Georg…" Elsa said his name under her breath, trying to get his attention.

"And, then it was strawberries…" Georg ignored Elsa for a second time.

"Strawberries…?" Maria frowned. "Why would they get confused between…" her words drifted off, realisation setting in. Alright, I admit, it was a ridiculous story…

"Because, Fraulein, they were no more picking berries this afternoon," Georg rolled his eyes, "than you and I…" his words stopped abruptly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, realising he'd spoken of the two of them – himself and her – together, berry picking, at the exclusion of everyone else. Clenching his fist, he'd said too much, but she always had a way of provoking him. Busying himself with his glass of wine, he took a gulp, emptying the glass. Locking eyes with her, for a wild moment, he imagined the two of them traipsing through the forest, escaping the world – escaping this – under the pretence of picking berries…

"Oh, Georg, they were just off on an adventure…" Elsa interrupted with a radiant smile, trying to mask her annoyance. Why was he wasting his time talking to the governess? She wasn't even supposed to be here. And why was he behaving as if her and Max were invisible? He hadn't bothered to join in with any of their conversation. "They are children, after all…"

"They know better than to make up stories…" Georg didn't so much as glance in Elsa's direction.

Maria frowned, now concerned that the children had been fibbing to both her and their father. "If they weren't berry picking, where were they, Captain?"

"In town," Georg answered.

"Town…?" Maria's frown deepened. "What were they doing in town…?"

"I'm not sure…" Georg answered evasively, even though he was almost certain what the children had been up to. The exact same reason I snuck off to town these past days – because of you, Fraulein. "I've got a theory…"

"Now, there you go, sounding like a detective, Georg," Elsa teased, feeling a little better when Max joined her with a laugh. "I really wish you'd leave this poor young lady alone to eat her pissaladière." Her exaggerated French flourish as she turned to the governess, did little to hide her disapproval.

Georg's thumb drummed the table. Elsa was right. But ignoring Maria was impossible…

oOo

"Father knows we went to town?" Kurt turned fearfully to his brother and sisters.

"Ssshhh!" Friedrich hissed.

"We told you," Louisa snapped at her older brother. "Father saw through your ridiculous story about berry picking."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Friedrich snapped back. "None of you came up with anything, so I had to think of something."

"Ssshhh…" Liesl hissed from the settee.

"Liesl's right!" Brigitta whispered. "I can't her a thing with you two arguing…"

In a huff, Louisa stood up and walked across to the settee with a scowl. "I can't believe Father knew we were in town," she dropped down on the floor in front of Liesl again. "How…?"

"Well, it kind of makes sense," Liesl shrugged. "It was obvious we hadn't been picking berries."

"Hmph…" Louisa crossed her arms, contemplating what it all meant as the silence stretched out. Now that Fraulein Maria had returned, Father might be less likely to punish them any more.

"Does he know we went to the Abbey?" Liesl asked.

"I don't think so," Louisa shook her head.

"Does Fraulein Maria know we tried to see her?" Liesl dropped her head to the side. Is that why she returned?

"Fraulein Maria seemed surprised when Father told her we were in town," Louisa shook her head. "But he did say he had a theory about what we'd been up to."

"Did he sound angry?" Marta asked in a small voice.

"He sounded like he was having fun…" Louisa frowned.

"Fun…?" Liesl and Marta asked as one.

"You know how he gets with Fraulein Maria," Louisa sighed, watching her sisters nod.

Liesl knew exactly how Father was when Fraulein Maria was around. After all, she'd been watching them closely for weeks. Somehow, they could have a conversation across a crowded room, and it was like everyone else had disappeared…

oOo

"Fraulein Maria…" Max called out to the end of the table, ignoring the butler who returned to oversee one of the young maids clear away the entrée dishes.

Miles away, Maria jumped a little at the sound of her name. "Yes, Herr Detweiler?"

"I was hoping we might have a chat after dinner," Max sensed Georg bristling beside him.

Scowling, Georg watched Maria nod at the maid's questioning look. She'd barely touched her entrée, but the maid took her plate, anyway. Something was troubling her. Did it have something to do with why she returned…?

"A chat…?" Maria frowned at Herr Detweiler.

With the entrée dishes removed, Franz busied himself refilling everyone's wine glasses. Stopping to survey the table, he quietly slipped out of the room to oversee the last of the main course preparations in the kitchen.

"Yes, I was hoping we might work on some new songs with the children," Max smiled charmingly at the governess.

"Max, darling," Elsa sighed, "the children will not be singing at the garden party."

"Oh, I realise that," Max replied innocently, "I just thought it might be fun…"

"Max!" Georg growled. "For the last time, my children will not be singing at the Festival."

"Did I mention the Festival, Georg?" Max turned to his friend with the same innocent, wide eyes. "I just thought it might be a fun way to spend the last weeks of the holidays." He turned away from Georg's dark look to the governess. "Don't you agree, Fraulein Maria?"

"Max…" Elsa paused, waiting for him to turn toward her. "Fraulein Maria isn't staying," she turned to the far end of the table. "Are you, my dear?"

"Not staying…?" Max looked between Elsa and Georg, then back to Fraulein Maria. "What do you mean?"

Maria blushed, uncomfortable at being the centre of attention. "It's true…" she answered in a small voice, looking anywhere but the Captain. "I won't be staying…"

"You can't not stay," Max looked crestfallen. "Georg, you must tell this young lady she simply cannot leave…"

oOo

"She's leaving…?" Brigitta mumbled, dumbfounded.

"Baroness Schraeder?" Liesl's eyes lit up. It was true, over dinner, Father had finally announced that he loved Fraulein Maria.

"Not her…" Kurt stood up, looking shocked. "Fraulein Maria…"

"Fraulein Maria…?" All the girls chorused as one.

Kurt's answer caught in his throat, so he simply nodded.

"You're wrong!" Louisa snapped, standing up and striding angrily across the room to where Brigitta and Friedrich were crouched against the dining room doors. Dropping down on the floor, she wished her heart wasn't beating so hard. She could hardly hear a thing above the pounding in her ears. "Kurt's wrong, isn't he…?" she whispered, her voice sounding choked.

"It's true…" Brigitta sniffed, turning to lean her back against the closed door. Closing her eyes to fight back the tears, she rested her head against the door.

"It's alright… Fraulein Maria must be talking about the end of the holidays," Liesl suggested hopefully. "You heard wrong…"

"I don't think we did," Friedrich sighed.

"But why…?" Louisa asked. "Why would she come back, and then leave again?"

"Sssshhh…" Friedrich hissed angrily. "If you stopped whining, we might find out…"

"What are they talking about now?" Louisa whispered as she shuffled closer to Brigitta.

"Uncle Max is telling Father to make her stay," Brigitta whispered back, swiping at a tear slipping down her cheek.

"She has to stay…" Louisa sniffed. It wasn't fair. They'd been so happy when Fraulein Maria returned, no one had stopped to think she might ever leave.

oOo

"It's cordon bleu, Georg," Elsa explained.

Georg looked up at Elsa, not even bothering to smile. It was too much effort, and his heart just wasn't in it. He was starting to resent every dish needing its own introduction. "Let me guess, it's French…" he answered wryly.

"As it happens, it is," Elsa answered defensively, not caring one bit for his tone.

"Georg…" Max waited for his friend to turn to him. There really seemed to be a bit of tension between Elsa and Georg tonight.

"Yes, Max…?" Georg sighed.

"Weren't you telling the children this morning they wouldn't be needing a governess?" Max continued. Taking a mouthful of the crumbed chicken, he looked across at Elsa. What…? He innocently answered her glare.

"Max, must we have this discussion now?" Georg muttered through clenched jaw.

"I'm not sure you're fully prepared for seven children, Elsa," Max continued. "You'll need some help," he turned to the girl at the far end of the table, "won't she, Fraulein Maria?" But the girl seemed a million miles away…

"With school starting, I can't imagine it will be too hard," Elsa answered brightly, not waiting for an answer from the nun, who thankfully, seemed to have gone into her shell.

"Fraulein Maria, you know better than any of us…" Max called out to the far end of the table. "Won't the children need help with their homework?"

"I imagine they will, Herr Detweiler," Maria agreed.

Elsa glared at Fraulein Maria, wondering if the girl would ever learn her place. "The children will have tutors..."

"Tutors…?" Maria and Georg turned to Elsa as one.

Elsa looked from one end of the table to the other. "Why, yes…" she pressed her fingertips against her hair. Damn Max for causing trouble!

"Their schools don't have tutors, Elsa," Georg explained carefully.

"Georg, that's why I've been thinking, we should send the children to different schools," Elsa reached over to place a hand on Georg's arm.

"Different schools…?" Maria and Georg questioned in unison.

"Better schools…" Elsa added with a smile.

oOo

"Baroness Schraeder is going to make us change schools," Friedrich called out over his shoulder.

"What…?" Liesl looked up horrified as she continued to comfort her young sisters. Gretl was on her lap, head buried against her crying, while Marta was sniffling on the settee beside her.

"Why does she think we'd change schools?" Louisa muttered under her breath. "It doesn't make sense…"

"I don't…" sniff "…want to go… to a…" sniff "different school…" Marta struggled to speak between her tears and gulps of air.

"That's what she said," Brigitta confirmed. "Different schools… better schools…"

"But I like my school…" Marta's bottom lip quivered.

"What about my friends?" Kurt looked uncharacteristically sullen. "I'd have to make new friends."

"Which schools is she talking about?" Liesl wondered out loud. There weren't that many schools in Salzburg to choose from.

"Ssshh..." Louisa hissed. "It's hard to hear what they're saying…"

oOo

"What better schools?" Georg shifted his arm, removing Elsa's hand. He clasped his hands under the table, resting them on his lap. Out of her reach.

"Well, take Liesl…" Elsa continued.

"Liesl…?" Maria and Georg asked as one.

"She's almost a young lady," Elsa explained. "It's such a delicate age…"

"Liesl still has another year of school," Georg frowned.

"I realise that, darling…"

Georg's body tightened at Elsa's term of endearment.

"But we would be doing her a huge disservice if she didn't spend her final year at finishing school…"

"Finishing school…?" Maria and Georg frowned.

"Why yes, finishing school," Elsa explained. "We can't even think about presenting Liesl without a year of finishing school behind her."

"Is there a finishing school in Salzburg, Baroness Schraeder?" Maria asked.

"Salzburg?" Elsa turned and glared at the girl sitting at the far end of the table as if she were completely mad. "Oh, it won't be Salzburg…"

"Not Salzburg…?" Georg asked, his jaw tight.

"Oh, no, Georg!" Elsa laughed at the very idea. "If a girl is to have any chance, she has to go to one of the established schools, a Swiss one…"

"Switzerland…?" Maria and Georg looked horrified.

oOo

"Liesl…" Friedrich stood up, his hands forming into tight fists.

"What is, Friedrich?" Liesl asked. "What's wrong…"

"Baroness Schraeder is sending you away…" Louisa already had tears pooling in her eyes.

"Away…" Liesl laughed a little. "Away where?"

"Finishing school…" Brigitta answered, tears already rolling down her cheeks.

"Switzerland…" Friedrich's face was filled with horror.

"That's not even funny," Liesl rolled her eyes at her brother and sisters.

"We're not joking," Friedrich shook his head.

"It's true… it's what Baroness Schraeder just said…" Louisa nodded.

"Finishing school…" Liesl whispered, the words barely registering.

"You can't go…" Marta sniffled beside her oldest sister.

Louisa stood up, swiping angrily at the tear that escaped, tickling her cheek. "I've had enough of this…"

"So have I," Friedrich snapped.

"But what can we do?" Kurt asked.

"Follow…" Louisa and Friedrich started striding across the sitting room.

oOo

"Now, Georg," Elsa took a deep breath, "I wasn't going to bring this up at dinner, but we are running out of time to make a decision."

"I didn't realise we were making a decision," Georg snapped.

"Well, we can't leave these things up to chance…"

No longer listening to Elsa's words, Georg was concentrating on the sound of footsteps in the distance. As the noise grew louder, and his frown deepened, he was certain they belonged to the children. They must be walking up the hallway toward the dining room. Turning in his chair to face the doorway, within moments, he was confronted by his children.

Marta was running to him, throwing herself in his arms, begging him not to send Liesl away, while Friedrich and Louisa were talking loudly over each other. Kurt and Brigitta were crying and trying to talk through their tears. It was impossible to make any sense of any of it, other than conclude, the children must have overhead Elsa. He had to do something, he had to make things right. As his arm tightened around Marta, he knew he needed to…

"Come on, children…"

Georg turned. Maria was moving behind Max toward the children, gathering them together, ushering them through the doorway. And just like that, as suddenly as they had appeared, the children were gone.

He stared at the doorway, waiting for the children's voices and footsteps to disappear down the hallway; his heart breaking for the children, his heart aching for Maria…

oOo

Thank you everyone for continuing to read and follow my story. Thank you for the wonderful reviews, especially the guest reviewers who I can't thank personally.

I had promised this chapter would be the dinner chapter, so of course, it was always going to be ridiculously long. Apologies for taking forever to update, but there were so many conflicting emotions, conversations and thoughts – it was difficult keeping a rein on everyone and everything, especially against the backdrop of a silver service dinner! Not sure I managed that in the end – and the dinner service may have been more bronze than silver!

I don't own TSOM, just having a little lend.

"Immerse your soul in love"