The Journal

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" the concern in Liesl's voice touched Maria's heart.

"Yes, fine," she replied. "You've been just wonderful over the past few days, but you have your own family to be with."

"But…"

Maria put her hand up to stop her daughter from speaking. "I know, darling. I do. But with the craziness of the past few days, especially today with the…" Maria couldn't get the words out. "Liesl, well let's just say I'm looking forward to being alone, to having some peace and quiet."

Liesl opened her mouth to protest again but Maria stopped her. "How about I give you a call in the morning and we can go out for coffee? I can even call the other girls and we can make a day of it?"

Liesl laughed. "Mother, you know how much Louisa hates coffee. She won't come."

Maria smiled. "Of course I know that, but I'm sure under the circumstances, she'd change her mind. I know she's only joking with all her ridiculous comments about coffee drinking. I blame you father for getting me addicted to it you know." All of a sudden, at the mention of Georg, tears welled up in Maria's eyes. She stopped and bit down on her lip trying to blink them back. Liesl looked at Maria for a moment before embracing her mother.

"Now Mother, are you sure? I can stay if you like."

Maria shook her head again. "No, I'm fine really. Go." And with that, Liesl left the house. Maria sighed as she closed then locked the front door.

As much as Maria had tried to reassure her daughter that she was fine, in actual fact, Maria was anything but fine. The feeling of loss at Georg's death less than a week before was overwhelming.

And now she was truly alone in the big house for the first time since they'd bought it about 20 years before when they'd arrived in America. Always the house was filled with the many children coming and going. Then even after all the children had grown up and moved out, it had always been her and Georg at the house. And even if he was out, she knew it wouldn't be too long before he was home. But tonight, this was different. He wasn't there and he wasn't coming back soon, he was gone forever.

Maria began to wander up to her big bedroom, the room she'd shared with Georg for so many years, save for the past few months. A persistent, lingering cough had made her insist he'd go to the doctors. Then discovering he had cancer, with as little as a couple of months to live, it was the biggest shock of their lives.

Of course Maria had always known that Georg, being so much older than she, was more likely to die first. But he was in his early 60's, and while not a young man anymore, Maria had never considered him old in any regard. But his illness had taken hold of him quickly and within weeks he'd become bedridden.

They had decided for ease that Georg would move from their bedroom down the hallway to one of the children's rooms which had the added advantage of the small annex room next door that a nurse could stay overnight to help care for Georg. At the beginning of his illness, Maria had insisted upon caring for Georg herself, and being honest, he hadn't been that compliant for anyone else caring for him. However, after less than two weeks of Maria nursing him solely day and night, she was exhausted and Liesl and Friedrich had insisted on employing a nurse at least for the evenings so Maria could get some rest.

But only a few days ago, Georg's cough had worsened to the point that he could barely draw breath in between all the bouts of coughing. Maria feared the worse and had insisted upon staying up all night with him. She'd held him all night, whispering words of love and singing songs softly to him, and then shortly before dawn, he took his last breath and slipped peacefully away from her.

So the past few days had been a blur, with so much to organize for the funeral set for that day and the many people sending their deepest sympathies. At the wake after the funeral service, Maria found herself moving like a zombie: smiling and nodding and accepting a multitude of hugs from various family and friends. And she'd felt completely numb all day during his service and then again at the cemetery. But now that she was alone in their house, all the pain and emotion that she'd kept back since his death flooded back to her and she missed Georg so much that it hurt.

Maria entered their bedroom and gazed at the bed she'd shared with Georg over the last 20 years. She'd lost count of the number of times they'd made love in that bed. Their passion for each other had never dampened over time. However, over the years, there had been times when either the children were young, or they were both busy or sick so that it was sometimes weeks or even months in between times they were together. However, there were other times when they'd managed to get the house to themselves for a day or so where they would never leave their bed, spending the entire time making love to each other. The last time they'd made love, shortly after finding out about Georg's terminal diagnosis, it was soft and tender. They'd held each other for the longest time afterwards, talking about what was about to happen in the future and shedding many tears.

She sighed deeply thinking back upon all the memories. Even though Maria felt so physically, mentally and emotionally tired, she knew she wasn't going to sleep much that night. Instead, she undressed and slipped into her nightgown. She went over to Georg's nightstand and rubbed a tiny amount of his cologne onto the collar of his robe before wrapping it around herself. Smelling the familiar scent of his aftershave on his robe somehow made her feel close to him again although he wasn't there. And she needed to feel close to him again, today of all days, the day they'd laid him to rest.

Almost unable to bear being in their bedroom a moment longer, Maria made her way back downstairs and into Georg's study. It was the only other place in their house, besides their bedroom, that she felt close to him. Without a second thought, Maria walked straight over to the buffet and poured herself a glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. The golden liquid burned her throat and she gave an involuntary cough. It wasn't often she ever drank the stuff; actually it was Georg's preferred drink, as she usually just drank wine herself. Except tonight she really needed a stiff drink to take the edge off the pain she was feeling at Georg's death.

Maria refilled her glass but this time just slowly sipped the liquid as she wandered aimlessly around the room. Finally, she sunk down into Georg's chair, a sudden weariness coming over her. Maria tapped her fingers absentmindedly on the desk as her eyes combed the room. After a moment she sat bolt upright in the chair as something caught her eye. Craning her neck around, she saw the large wooden crate poking out from behind the sofa.

She got up and approached the box, wondering what it was before she suddenly remembered. Around 6 months prior, Georg had received a letter from the nephew of Max Detweiller. Max had just recently passed away and the nephew had found, while cleaning out Max's house, a large box of things Max had managed to salvage from the von Trapp villa shortly after the family had left Austria before the war. After a long negotiation process, Georg arranged for their possessions to be shipped to the house in America. But unfortunately, the crate had arrived just after Georg had become sick himself so the box had remained unopened in the corner of the study.

Maria hurried back over to Georg's desk looking for something she could use to pry the box open. She found something almost straight away and opened the crate carefully, pulling out the packing material used to protect the contents. She gazed inside the crate for a moment, wondering what to take out first.

She decided on a soft package, wrapped up in tissue paper. Maria gingerly began to unwrap it when her breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed the first flash of pale blue. She quickly finished removing the tissue paper and picked up the garment and held it up high. It was the pale blue dress of flowing chiffon material that she'd worn the night Georg proposed to her in the gazebo all those years ago. Maria closed her eyes and hugged the dress to her body. Oh that night was so magical! From having her heart broken to having her heart restored, all in the matter of a few hours. Even all these years later, she could still remember the feeling of Georg's lips upon hers as he kissed her for the first time.

A tiny tear fell from her eye as she looked at the dress. So many memories. But then Maria laughed to herself as she inspected the dress again. The dress was so small! Maria was still a slim woman, but after 20 years and giving birth to two children herself, her waistline was not quite what it once was and she was wondered how she ever fitted into that dress. Maria didn't know the reason why why the dress had even been kept but she was very thankful that it had been. She carefully placed it aside, knowing that she wanted to be able to show her youngest daughter the dress she wore when Georg declared his love to her.

Maria turned her attention back to the contents of the crate. Next was large photo album. It was full of photos of Georg and Agathe when they were first married, and the children when they were young. Maria smiled to herself as she knew how much all the children would love to see photographs of their real mother again after all these years. She put it aside before looking back in the crate. There were a few more photo albums and some family heirlooms, things that she didn't have much interest in but she knew the children would. Maria was beginning to think that there wasn't much more to discover in the crate. But there in the bottom of the box, she spied several small, leather bound books.

She picked up the first one. On the front was embossed in gold letters: 1935. Curious, Maria opened it up to see Georg's fine penmanship scrawled over every page. It was his journal. On every dated page there was something written, mainly business appointments but occasionally some sort of random thought he was having from that day. Maria picked up the other leather-bound books and found them dated from 1936 to 1938. She took all four books and went and sat down on the sofa to read.

She began in 1935. It was before she knew Georg but she found the things he wrote occasionally fascinating and at times amusing. During the first part of the year, intermingled between the various business appointments were things about the children like: Liesl: dance recital. My darling daughter was exceptional during her performance. She has the dancing talent of her mother. Or: Friedrich played the piano for the family after dinner. He played well, but could be better if he practiced more. Maria smiled at the thought of the house being filled with music while Agathe was alive.

She flicked through the pages until she came to an entry from the beginning of August. Louisa: A high fever and a bright red rash. The doctor has been called but I'm worried. There have been reported cases of scarlet fever going through the school.

A week later was this entry: Louisa seems to be responding to the treatment after her diagnosis of scarlet fever. She is being kept separate from the rest of the children but Agathe insists on caring for her.

A week after that: Louisa has thankfully recovered from her illness, although she is still very weak. But Agathe, my poor darling wife, she has been struck down by fever. The doctor is with her now, but he fears the worst. He is not optimistic at all.

Maria flicked expectantly through the next few pages wanting to find out what would happen next, even though of course she already knew. However there was nothing for the rest of August detailed in the journal. Then the only entry for September was early in the month with the date of of Agathe's funeral penciled in. There was a newspaper cutting of the obituary and slipped inside the journal on the next page was the service outline for the funeral and a single sheet of paper with a poem written in Georg's handwriting.

Music I heard with you was more than music,

And bread I broke with you was more than bread.

Now that I am without you, all is desolate,

All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,

And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.

These things do not remember you, beloved:

And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,

And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.

And in my hear they will remember always:

They knew you once, O beautiful and wise! * Conrad Aiken

Maria felt the tears starting to form again in her eyes and she tried not to cry again. Long ago, Georg had tried to explain to her the grief of losing a spouse, the pain and the devastation he felt when Agathe died. Maria tried to understand at the time but she could not. It was only now after losing Georg, the love of her life that she began to understood what Georg went through all those years ago when his first wife died. But having these journals of Georg's in her hands, she felt like she had a small part of him still with her and she felt close to him as she read his words.

Maria wiped a single tear off her cheek with the back of her hand and pulling herself together, she continued reading through the 1935 journal. She wasn't surprised at all to find Georg had ceased to record any further private thoughts after Agathe's death - he'd completely shut his emotions inside himself when she died.

But there were a few items of interest she noted. Towards the end of September, the first governess, Frauline Hilda, arrived at the villa. Over the next few weeks, difficulties with the new governess were noted almost daily: Frauline Hilda complained that the children are constantly hiding from her. She is the governess! She should make it a point to know where they are at all times.

Then: The children ran away from Frauline Hilda again in the marketplace. She searched for them for two hours before they turned up just as she was about to call the police. What is this woman doing?

Finally: Frauline Hilda reported to my study this morning after the forth time this week that she had misplaced the children. This woman is clearly incompetent, so I immediately dismissed her.

The next governess arrived only a few days after that but within another two weeks; she too had left the villa. Clearly all the tricks the children liked to play on the governesses had worked quickly.

Maria turned the page, expecting to see the next entry to be outlining the arrival of the third governess. Instead she saw Georg had an appointment listed to visit the St Ignatius Boarding School in Vienna. She frowned. Never once had Georg mentioned he'd considered sending the children to boarding school after Agathe died. He'd always been adamant that the children stay and be educated at home. Even quite recently when their youngest had announced that she wanted to go to college on the other side of the country, he'd been less than impressed at the thought of her living so far away from the family.

Maria quickly scanned the last few pages of the journal. Obviously, even though he'd visited the school, Georg must have decided against boarding school for the children as the next entry in the journal listed the arrival of the third governess, Frauline Anna. To Maria's surprise, at least for the first month or so, she was able to control the children. Even Georg seemed impressed with Frauline Anna and the way she drilled the children in their studies.

Friedrich obtained an A in his class exam. Frauline Anna seems to be doing an excellent job with tutoring the children in their studies. If only Louisa would stop bringing spiders into the schoolroom. Frauline Anna doesn't seem to mind, and she generally likes the children. For the first time since their mother died, they seem happy. If only I could feel that way too…

It was the first entry since Agathe died that Georg had written anything about himself. Maria could almost feel Georg's pain as she read those words. She could understand how he'd felt, as she felt the same way now. It almost felt impossible to ever be happy again on this day of sorrow, the day they'd laid Georg to rest. But she hoped that over time, the grief that she was feeling now at his death would gradually subside, but at that moment, it didn't seem possible to escape from the intense pain of loss she was feeling.

Maria finished the journal and picked up the next one, the one dated 1936. The first few entries were much like the previous one, full of praise for Frauline Anna and spoke of how the children were thriving under her mentorship. Maria now recalled that Liesl and Friedrich spoke of just one governess out of the eleven prior to her that they'd liked, but Maria couldn't remember her name. She assumed that the governess must have been Frauline Anna. Maria wondered: if the children and Georg liked her so much, then why hadn't she stayed?

The answer came when Maria turned to the following month. Regrettably, Frauline Anna informed me this morning that she was handing in her notice. Her sister tragically died during childbirth and she is to go and help look after her sister's four surviving children. I must admit I am disappointed as the children have come to care for her deeply in the few months she'd been with us, but understand the circumstances. I will pay her an additional month's wage in gratitude for the service she has given my family.

Shortly after that entry was the note of the next governess arriving at the villa. Within a month she was gone too, before the next governess came. The remainder of the 1936 and the 1937 journals were full of entries outlining the comings and going of the next seven governesses and the various practical jokes the children played on them. The most famous, which Maria laughed out aloud over, was when the children put the snake in Frauline Helga's bed and then, of course, when Kurt put glue on Frauline Josephine's toothbrush. While Maria flicked through the books, as the months went on, she could sense Georg's frustration as he vented into his journals all the things that each of the governesses were not doing correctly for the children. How they were unable to maintain discipline, or how they were not drilling the children in their studies hard enough, or how they needed to make the children march around the ground more.

But by the end part of 1937, she noticed a change in the way Georg wrote. He seemed happier when he wrote. He wrote more personal thoughts down more than any other time since Agathe had died. His journal entries placed him in visiting Vienna more and more often, with many parties and social occasions on the agenda. Maria, of course, knew that this was about the time Georg had met Elsa.

Maria put the book down in her lap and took another sip of her drink. It was funny, she thought, that even after 20 years of marriage to Georg, he'd never really spoke to her about his relationship with Elsa. Eventually Maria had confessed to Georg how Elsa had cornered her in her room the night of the party and Georg had told Maria how he'd broken off his engagement to Elsa before finding Maria at the gazebo, but apart from that, they'd never brought Elsa up in conversation.

Maria knew Georg loved her with all his heart so that she'd never had a reason to feel jealous of Elsa. But reading through Georg's journals now and seeing so many entries detailing his long courtship with Elsa, Maria felt a sting of jealously as she read of Georg's developing relationship with the socialite. Part of her would always be thankful to Elsa for bringing some meaning back into Georg's life when he'd thought there was no meaning left after Agathe had died. But still, reading her husband's words professing his growing attraction to another woman, along with his various romantic interludes with her, even though it was years ago even before he'd even met her, Maria feel uncomfortable.

But then Maria told herself she was being ridiculous as she flicked through to the end of 1937, not lingering on reading much more about Georg's relationship with Elsa. She then began on the last journal: the one dated 1938.

In March another governess came and by the beginning of July, she too had been driven away by the unrelenting tricks the children played on her. Then an entry from 2nd July: Only two hours! There aren't any words to describe how exceptionally angry and insulted I feel by this woman! She had no discipline herself so it is to no surprise to me that she let the children completely run rampant! But then, that woman! When I summoned her into my study to reprimand her, she had the gall… the nerve… to throw herself at me! She offered her er… services to me if I'd let her stay. Imagine keeping that sort of woman under my roof, mentoring my children! It would be completely preposterous to even consider it! I dismissed her immediately.

Maria found herself surprised to learn this. Georg had never once mentioned the advances her predecessor made on him. Once, shortly after her arrival at the villa, Maria had asked the children about all of the previous governesses. They'd told her stories about them all, all except the last one. Maria had the impression that even they didn't know why the eleventh governess had been dismissed so quickly after her arrival. But now she knew.

Of course it would have gone against Georg's character and honor to take an employee into his bed for the sake of pure pleasure. When Georg had proposed to Maria, he'd worried what the other staff at the villa would say to him marrying the governess. He knew that any rumors started about whether or not he was sleeping with Maria were not true, but he wanted to make sure that his character and Maria's integrity were maintained for their entire engagement. Georg was truly an honorable man.

Letting out a deep sigh as she thought of her late husband, Maria turned her attention back to the journal entry, which continued on. But what to do now? I've obtained governesses from every institution in the country and still none have been suitable! There is only one place left to turn to find someone to care for the children until the end of the summer. And I pray that this one will be stay at least until then…

Maria smiled to herself as she turned the page, knowing exactly what was to happen next. To her surprise, there was a folded piece of paper lying in between the pages of the journal. She took it out, opened it and read the contents.

"He kept it!" Maria exclaimed out aloud, smiling. It was the telegram the Reverend Mother sent him about her arrival.

Capt. vT. STOP Governess from the convent to arrive tomorrow STOP She will stay until September STOP RM Nonnberg Abbey

Still smiling, Maria began to read the entry from the day she arrived at the villa. At once she roared out aloud with laughter!

Where do I begin? Snooping in the ballroom, wearing the ugliest grey dress I have ever laid my eyes on. She looks as young as a schoolgirl, while she is obviously much older and has a defiance about her that sets her apart from the rest. The nerve… the cheek of this one! Refusing to use my system of whistles. Humiliating? Whistles are for dogs and cats? Giving mock salutes? Why I've never in all my life had someone talk back to me the way she did! Then Frauline Maria was late for dinner, something I cannot ever abide! Of course the children played one of their classic tricks on her: a pinecone on her chair at the dinner table! She leaped up in the air letting out an astounded whoop, before making up some ridiculous excuse - something about rheumatism, I believe? I never once saw a more bizarre spectacle from anyone ever before in my life!

"So Georg," she said giggling to herself, "That's what you really thought of me!" After all these years of Georg 'claiming' he fell in love with her when she sat on the pinecone, now she finally found out the truth. Every now and then she had tried to trick him into telling her what he had really thought but every time, he'd stuck to the same story: that he'd found her sitting on the pinecone enchanting and he fell in love with her at that moment. Maria had given up asking for the real story after awhile as he was always so adamant at sticking to the story he'd told her.

Maria, on the other hand, around five years after they were married, finally admitted that she hadn't been entirely honest with Georg when she'd told him that she'd fallen in love with him when he'd first blown the whistle. Georg had looked a little crestfallen when she'd confessed it, but quickly she'd reassured him that actually the moment he'd blown the whistle allowed her to see a different side of him, changing her initial opinion of him causing her to begin to fall in love with him.

Maria shook her head and blinked several times. She'd allowed her mind to wander and there were so many more thoughts that Georg had written down about her first night at the villa. So many thoughts that they took up the entire allotment for that date, and even gone over into the space in the journal for the next day and the day after that. She knew she'd made an impression on him that very first day, but she had never seen him write so much! She continued reading.

But to my absolute surprise, she didn't yell or scold the children about the pinecone. Instead, she thanked them for giving her a 'precious gift' earlier that day. This gift I can only assume is something of the creepy crawly variety, another classic trick the children usually play on all the new governesses. But then, the children all cried. Yes cried! Never before out of any of the eleven governesses before her have I witnessed such behaviour from the children!

She had wanted to gain the trust of the children that first night and had thought the fastest way to lose it was to tell on them to their father about the frog placed in her pocket. Maria remembered the looks of guilt on all the children's faces when she praised their mischievous actions instead of scolded, and in fact it was a technique she still used on the children to this day, much to their annoyance!

But she had gained the children's trust that evening for Maria remembered how later that night, during the fierce thunderstorm, the children all rushed into her room for comfort. Maria had used the opportunity to further gain their trust by letting them stay and not sending them back to bed straight away, even though she knew it was against the rules. They'd all had fun, dancing and singing about their favourite things until Georg arrived. Maria didn't need to read the next part of the journal to know how angry he'd been with her at finding the children out of bed, the recollection of the fierce expression on his face that night still etched in her mind after all those years. Maria rolled her eyes and tut-tutted to herself. "My, my, Captain… you really need to watch your language…" Maria laughed as she skimmed through the next two pages of vented anger and frustration at her disobedience.

She didn't linger on the next few weeks that Georg was in Vienna but turned straight to the journal entry from day he'd returned to the villa with Elsa and Max. The day she and the children had fallen out of the rowboat and she'd argued with Georg on the lakeside. Maria was expecting to find another page, or three, of angry thoughts sent in her direction. But instead, to Maria's surprise, she found the complete opposite.

I have been humbled… truly humbled by my children today. Until the moment I heard them sing, I never realized how far I'd drifted from them. The music, the sweet music floating out of the room, their beautiful voices raised in song - I'd forgotten the joy I used to feel at having music in the house. I felt compelled to join them in their song, The Sound of Music, remembering the many times their mother had once sung it. I'm not even sure the children remember that Agathe ever sang it, in fact now I wonder how much the children actually remember of her at all. I have been wrong, so very wrong to shut Agathe's memory out and to shut the children out of my life. There was one person who today opened my eyes to all of this. Frauline Maria. I know I should be angry with her for the manner at which she spoke to me. And I was angry with her, furious in fact until I realized how right she had been about everything. Should it really take a stranger in my house to show me what was under my nose the whole time? No it shouldn't, but she did. I will eternally by thankful to her for having the courage to speak the truth to me…

Maria remembered the heartfelt way he'd spoken to her as she stood dripping wet on the stairs. But reading his words now, somehow she now saw him, and what had happened on that day, in a new light. When she'd argued with him, she had been arguing for the children, for them to seek and claim the love they so very much craved from their father. But until this moment, she never realized how much Georg needed the children and their love in return. By bringing music back into the house and restoring his relationship with his children, it was the start of the destruction of the walls that Georg had build around himself.

But there was something else, or really someone else to be more accurate, that had caused Georg to change, and that, of course, was Maria herself. Over the following few journal entries, her name appeared often, but in praise rather than in criticism. Georg seemed happier as he wrote, mentioning every delightful thing each child did, along with a compliment directed towards Maria.

Maria wasn't sure that she'd been aware that early on about Georg's growing affection for her, in fact she didn't even believe that he was aware of it himself then either. Maria remembered the first time she'd really been conscious of the way she felt about Georg was a week later when she and the children performed "The Lonely Goatherd" for him, Elsa and Max. After the performance and he'd praised the children, there was a moment when they'd spoken and he looked at her. His deep blue eyes seemed to pierce right down into her soul and Maria had felt like she could hardly breathe! Georg seemed to sense something had shifted between the two of them as well as he paused awkwardly before quickly giving her a little bow, then moving away from her. All Maria could do was smile and follow Georg and Elsa from the room but she'd felt his eyes comb over her as she moved past him into the hallway.

She'd tried to put it out of her mind as the children excitedly wanted to have another performance, but this time from their father. Georg needed some convincing to come and play from them but as Maria held out the guitar to him, there was another moment where their eyes connected and she was lost in the deep blue of his eyes. Before she knew it, Georg had agreed to play from them and sing. Maria knew how she'd felt when Georg had looked at her that night, but she wanted to read his viewpoint on the entire evening.

Tonight I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. While playing and singing for the children and for Elsa, I found myself not looking at the woman I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead my eyes were drawn like a magnet to look at Frauline Maria. They way she stood at the side of the room, her head of golden hair resting back on the wall as I sang, the beautiful blue gown on flowing chiffon adorning her body perfectly. She was a vision! I couldn't get enough of her!

But what on earth is wrong with me? I've brought Elsa to the villa with the intent on marrying her, but here I am lusting after the governess! Luckily I don't believe Elsa noticed the way I was looking at the young Frauline, but if she had… well Elsa IS the jealous type. Thankfully I think I managed to move all attention back onto Elsa by agreeing to throw this lavish party in her honour.

In the weeks that followed, Maria remembered how busy it was around the villa. There were numerous party preparations to be organized, and she was working very hard planning and teaching the children the song they were to sing to the guests to say goodnight. However, despite the chaos, Maria remembered how often Georg would just suddenly appear in the schoolroom, or up at the nursery or in the garden – anywhere she and the children were. At the time she'd assumed it was because he wanted to spend time with the children. But of course in retrospect, she knew it was all because of her. Skimming through the journal entries over those weeks in between the night of the puppet show and the party, almost every entry had some reference to her.

Liesl told me how patient Frauline Maria is with teaching her to play the guitar. She really is a wonderful teacher.

Or: Gretl fell down this morning and immediately ran to Frauline Maria for comfort. She is very caring with the children and I'm delighted to how they have all taken to her.

Or: Frauline Maria has a lovely laugh. I heard it this morning on the way down to the breakfast table. Kurt had been telling her a joke.

Or: I accidently bumped into Frauline Maria this afternoon on her way out of the nursery. I apologised but she claimed it was her fault. While standing so close to her, I noticed the lovely smell of her shampoo. Lavender perhaps?

Maria wondered whether if she'd realized the depth of Georg's growing attraction to her before the party what she would have done? She'd enjoyed his company every occasion he'd spent time with her and the children, and the little compliments he'd paid her made her heart flutter. But until they'd danced the Laendler together at the party, she never really admitted her feelings of love for him, even to herself. But as they'd twirled and spun during those final moments of the dance, she knew, as she looked deep into his eyes, that he felt exactly the same way about her. And it terrified her.

So later when Elsa confronted her with the truth later in her room: that Maria was in love with Georg and he with her, she ran to the only place she felt safe away from her feelings: the Abbey. And she told no one why she fled.

I am completely perplexed to why Frauline Maria has left. The only thing I know is the way she looked into my eyes as we danced. Her soft body was pressed so close to mine that I could feel her warm breath on my face, her pink lips looking so luscious that all I wanted to do was to kiss her there and then. But she pulled away from me, and now she's gone. All I have been left with is this note that offers no clue.

Maria found slipped inside the pages of the journal a small, folded piece of paper. She took it out and her breath caught in her throat as she looked at it. Immediately she recognized her own handwriting.

Captain,

I have to leave you. I miss the life at the Abbey too much.

Please say goodbye to the children for me.

Yours,

Maria.

The page was crumpled, the ink was smudged like someone had read it over and over, searching and hoping for some sort of insight into the meaning behind the words. Maria felt sorry that she hadn't offered a better excuse to why she left. But she was in such a hurry to get out of the villa and back to the Abbey, that it was all she could write without revealing that her feelings for Georg was the exact reason why she was going. Maria immediately went into seclusion at the Abbey for several days before eventually speaking with the Reverend Mother.

Later, the children had told her how miserable they were while she was gone but as Maria continued reading through Georg's journal, she discovered how miserable Georg was too.

The children are quiet, too quiet. Normally I would suspect that they were up to some sort of trick, but not this time. They're quiet because they're miserable. And I understand why: Frauline Maria has gone. Nothing feels the same without her: eating breakfast without seeing her smiling face down the other end of the table, not hearing her joyous laugh floating through the corridors, or her angelic, musical voice singing with the children as they go about their daily activities. Nothing is the same! The children keep asking about her but what am I to say? I've already told them what she said in her note, and I know they don't believe it. I don't believe it! But what am I to do? Chase her down at the Abbey and force her to return? She desires to be a nun and who am I to try and stop her?

Maria sighed. She'd wished Georg had chased her down. She had known that she would never be a nun, but the Abbey was the only place she'd felt she would be safe. Unfortunately she found out that she couldn't escape from her feelings, she had to face them. But if Georg had come and found her immediately, then the next event wouldn't have happened.

But what to do now? Do the children need yet another governess to love them and leave them? Or do the children need a new mother? I'd always intended on marrying Elsa this summer. I'd brought her to Salzburg to meet the children. I threw her a lavish party and introduced her to all my friend and associates. She expects more, and she deserves more than being cast aside while I chase a fool's dream of marrying the woman I have fallen in love with. No, to be fair to Elsa, I must continue with the plan to marry her and put all these foolish notions aside.

And so Georg had proposed to Elsa and when Maria returned to the villa the following day, her heart was broken when she learnt of their engagement. She'd tried so hard to mask her feelings but Georg had seen through her façade.

Maria has returned only to discover I am to marry another. How could I have been so blind to think that I could deny my feelings for this woman and marry another? I'm so very grateful to Elsa for everything she has done for me over this past year, but to continue the engagement, it is being dishonest to both of us and utterly unfair to her. I have to break off my engagement to Elsa as gently as possible, and then find Maria…

Maria, of course knew what happened next. He'd found her, kissed her then declared his love. She closed her eyes remembering how she'd collapsed into his arms in relief and he held her so lovingly, like she was about to break. They'd sung together, and then he had proposed to her.

So finally after looking for her life, she'd found it. Her life was with Georg, and they'd had a rich and full marriage together for just over 20 years. But now he was gone, Maria wasn't quite sure how she was able go on without him. She felt like her grief was about to consume her. She blinked back the tears that were beginning for form in her eyes.

She turned the page in the journal to read Georg's thoughts from when they were engaged but to her astonishment, the page was blank. She turned to the next page and it was blank too. In a panic, she flicked quickly through the rest of the journal but she'd discovered that Georg hadn't written one more word since that magical night in the gazebo. Suddenly she felt deflated. She'd spent all night reading Georg's words and thoughts, every single one of them made her feel close to him again when the pain she felt at his death threatened to devour her. And now that his words had just stopped, she felt like she'd just lost him all over again.

Maria threw the journal down on the sofa next to her and picked up her unfinished drink. She downed the drink in one gulp and stared down at her hands. The tears she'd tried so hard to hold back she couldn't fight off anymore. She wept uncontrollably, something she didn't think that was possible after so many tears she'd already shed, her body shook with gut-wrenching sobs. She curled up on the sofa and buried her head in the pillows, absentmindedly kicking the discarded journals onto the floor.

She didn't know how long she lay there on the sofa crying but slowly the sobs began to subside and her ragged breathing returned to normal. Maria felt exhausted and she knew she should head up to bed and try and sleep. She swung her legs off the sofa and bent down to pick up the journals that had fallen to the floor. As she picked up the last one, a single folded sheet of paper fell out of the book.

Maria hadn't seen it before. She frowned as she picked it up. It had been crumpled then flattened out like the owner had wanted to discard it but then changed their mind. She unfolded it and as she began to read, she gasped in astonishment. It was to her from Georg.

My darling Maria,

I've written a journal almost every day of my life, but since I declared my love to you, I've suddenly found I'm lost for words. You continually surprise me, intoxicate me and entice me. Everyday you give me something new to love about you, something new to cherish. You have brought me new life, given me reason to live, a reason to love. I am indebted to you more than you know. As we marry tomorrow, you will become the mother of my children and my darling wife.

To say that I'm a little eager for our wedding is something of an understatement. We will have two long months together on our honeymoon in Paris, and I don't intend on sharing you with anyone. All day long your attention is divided between the children, and myself but for once I want to be selfish and have you all to myself. For every touch we share, and every kiss we give each other, I want you more and more. I dream of making love to you, dream of the pleasure I hope to give you, the passion I want to share with you.

I look forward to the long and happy life we are to have together. I hope one day to be blessed by having more children with you. You are already such a wonderful mother and I'm sure you'll exceed all expectations if we are fortunate enough to welcome more children into our family.

One day, in the very far and distant future, being much older I may die before you. My dearest Maria, don't make the same mistake that I did and let the grief of losing a spouse almost consume you. You are a strong woman, and you have a great capacity for love. Please don't let go of that love, may it bloom and grow inside of you filling you up and those around you.

I have never been that good at expressing my feelings, I've always been much better at hiding them inside this hard, stern exterior that you love to mock me over and perhaps I've never the type to write a love letter such as this. I may have received many medals for fighting bravely in the war, but now I'm not sure that I have the courage to give you this letter. But darling, I want you to know how much I love you, and I will promise to spend the rest of my days showing you how much I love you, for you deserve and are worthy of this love and I pray that you never let it die.

Yours affectionately, now and forever,

You have my heart,

Georg.

Maria held the letter to her heart. It was Georg's last letter to her, and although it was written some 20 years prior, it was his voice still speaking to her now. He loved her and he wanted her not to grieve for him for too long but to go on with her life, sharing her love now and forever. For even in death, true love never dies and through the words in his journals, she would have a piece of him to cherish forever. For the first time since his death, she really did feel close to him, and totally at peace. She knew now she had the strength to continue on, without him.

A/N: Usual disclaimers blah blah blah... This story was written as a gift for a friend, but I wanted to share it with everyone. It was a real challenge to me to get it 'just right', so please be nice and send me a review.