The Twelfth Governess

Chapter XXVII

A/N: Here it is, the last chapter of the longest story I have ever written! The apology scene goes a little different than the movie, but the basic dialogue lines are there. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

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Strong men can always afford to be gentle.

Elbert Hubbard

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"There is a first time for everything," he hissed, making his way towards the foyer once more.

The main trouble was that there had been too many "firsts" lately, and that was enough to make him uncomfortably edgy. The first time he was bringing a woman he intended to marry to meet his children. The first time he hired an unqualified young governess. At last, the first time he would have to take back a few things he had said, and apologize to that same young governess.

Georg von Trapp had an innate sense of justice, and was well known for it, even behind the enemy lines. At the same time, he was a man of strong opinions, and he was not used to apologizing, or taking back anything said before, for the simple reason that he rarely said or did anything without rationalizing first, without… strategizing. Whenever these two very prominent aspects of his personality clashed, he found himself in a deep, inner conflict.

It was definitely a conflict he was facing now.

He had not been his usual self when he classed with the twelfth governess earlier. His passionate side had taken over, in spite of himself. Unknowingly, the little Fräulein had pushed too many buttons at once, had kicked him where it hurt the most, notably when she had implied that he did not love his children. Had he behaved rationally – and gentlemanly - by allowing her to go inside and change into dry clothes, he would have had time to consider all the facts and regain full control of himself. But no, he wanted to lash out at her at that moment, while his temper still flared. He worried too much at the fact that he would be giving her an advantage, and he did not stop to think for a second that his own fiery temper would play against him, thus putting him in disadvantage. The result was disastrous for both of them. Although she had said a few quite unforgivable things about him, he, on the other hand, had been unfair to her, which meant that he should, in theory, make amends to her. He still did not think she was completely right, but she did force him to swallow the truth about certain things that were going on in his house. For that, at least, he would have to thank her.

Yes. he should apologize.

On the other hand, he wasn't at all certain he agreed with her methods, in spite of the results he had just witnessed. He still wasn't sure that if her personality was suited for the task of being a governess to his seven children. He was not certain that Fräulein Maria, with her boisterous personality, would be able to help preparing his children for what the society they lived in expected of them. It had nothing to do with her background, her lack of social skills or, least of all, her non aristocratic ancestry. It was simply… her, and her romantic ideas about the world.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens indeed," he thought, grimly.

Her methods, however, had decidedly worked. He had been bracing himself for the moment when the children would meet Elsa, uncertain as he was about their mutual reaction. To have Elsa accepting the children and vice-versa was essential for him to make up his mind about marrying her. To his utter and complete dismay, after the initial shock, his bride seemed genuinely charmed by them. Whatever the little Fräulein had done or said to them, he had to admit, it had worked wonders, and he knew for certain that he would never be able to achieve the same result.

The truth was that now he needed her to stay for the moment. Seeing the governess before she left the grounds of the villa was crucial, even if he had to camp outside the door to the bedroom. Naturally he did not have to go to such extremes, when he knew she would necessarily have to use the stairway before leaving.

It all happened just as he had expected. The only thing he had not counted on was to have Max in his tails. Elsa had been dragged away by the children who wanted to show her the kittens that had been born just two days before. Later he planned to talk to them about a certain rule concerning animals in the house, but at the moment, he was only glad that he had the minimum number of witnesses possible for the scene that would follow.

He heard her first, her heavy running footsteps echoing down the hallways upstairs. He grabbed her guitar, which the children had left behind in the drawing room, and practically run to the foyer in order not to miss her, and this time, he was quick enough. When she came into view, he saw that he was indeed running, and had just begun descending the stairs, two steps at a time.

"Stop right there, please!" he said briskly. She startled, jumping back a couple of steps, looking down at him from somewhere in the middle of the stairs, wide-eyed. "I have a feeling you might be looking for this," he said, showing her the guitar.

Her gaze went from the guitar to him, then back to the guitar, as if she was half expecting him to demand some kind of ransom for her precious instrument.

Indubitably, she was distressed, although she was trying her best to appear nonchalant, considering the look of defiance in her eyes, and the way she held her chin up. But her hands betrayed her, as usual – they were gripping the few possessions she carried with her with such force that her knuckles were white. Fortunately, she was not crying, nor there were signs of unshed tears in her eyes. It was good, because he would not be able to deal with a sobbing governess – he'd had enough of those among the previous eleven he had hired. He found it difficult as it was now, with her looking composed like that, not only because he would have to apologize to her, but also because he felt the most absurd desire to… comfort her. It was an absurdly idiotic idea, because no matter how open minded about social different he believed himself to be, he knew that employers did not simply hug governesses whenever they felt like it.

"Indeed I was. Captain... Ehm… Herr…?"

"Detweiler," Max provided, casting him a cynical glance, which he answered with a cautionary one. Meanwhile, Georg carefully placed the guitar next to the door to the ballroom.

"Max, this is my children's governess, Fräulein Maria," he said, walking towards the stairway again. "Fräulein, this is…" he hesitated, as his lips twitched into a half smile, "Uncle Max."

"H… how do you do?" she said, bowing her head slightly. Now she seemed completely puzzled and bewildered, and it was obvious to him why. He had just introduced her as his children's governess, a scant hour after he had fired her.

"I am sorry I could not find the case," he said, glancing back at her guitar.

"Oh I left in the…" She rolled her eyes impatiently, as if chastising herself. "I left it in the gazebo yesterday when the children and I were rehearsing."

Only then he realized that, although her short hair was dry, she was still wearing the same wet clothes she had on when she fell on the lake.

"Do you mind explaining the meaning of this?"

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"Do you mind explaining the meaning of this?"

He was pointing to her sodden skirt.

Maria looked down at herself, thinking that she had been wrong believing that he would not say anything about her walking around the house dripping lake water everywhere. Perhaps he could fire her twice in a day. What would he do now?

The wet clothes had been only the last item in the list of her problems. As she went upstairs to pack, she realized that she had absolutely nothing to wear.

"How many dresses does a governess need?" Frau Schmidt had asked, slyly, in her very first day. "Lots of them," Maria would like to answer now, particularly if she was going to look after seven pranksters. All the few dresses she possessed were either dirty or torn, and there was no power on earth that would convince her to look for Frau Poppmeier to see if any of them was already in a wearable condition. While she listening to the children downstairs, going through every song she had taught them in the past weeks, all she could do was to change into some dry underwear and leave. Oh, it would have broken her heart to leave like that, without saying goodbye to them, and leaving her guitar behind.

"Well, I certainly would appreciate a few explanations myself, Captain," she blurted. He had sent her away, hadn't he? Did he plan to hold her guitar hostage for some mad reason? Then why did he introduce her to Uncle Max as the governess? And how dare he question her choice of clothes? What mattered to him if she decided to walk all the way to Switzerland in a wet dress?

"Fräulein," he insisted. His voice was insisting, but gentle. He did not yell at her as she would have expected.

"Oh… well… I did not think would be upset by a few wet carpets after…"

"Never mind the accursed carpets. What are you still doing in wet clothes? Was I right about your self destructive tendencies and your predisposition for martyrdom, perhaps?"

Maria quickly looked at Herr Detweiler, who had just suppressed a giggle, before answering. "No, certainly not. Oooh… The truth is that… ehm… oh well," she shrugged. "I did not have anything else to wear, Reverend Captain."

He raised one patrician eyebrow. "What about the dresses you made with the fabrics I had sent to you that first day?"

"If you must know…" Why was he being so insistent about such a meaningless detail. He would have his precious dresses to give them whatever destination he had in mind after they were properly washed, ironed, and, in the case of the torn one, mended. Even Uncle Max seemed not to understand the reason for such fuss, because he was merely staring incredulously at the Captain

"Indeed I must!"

"Ehm… Very well, if you insist, I will make it all perfectly clear to you. Brigitta threw up in one of them last night because…" she bit her lips, realizing that she might be placing poor Brigitta in trouble because she had been reading during dinnertime. "Well, she was quite sick, and she… oh well, you know. The… the one with the stripes was torn after I got stuck in a tree."

"You found yourself stuck in a tree again?" he asked, incredulously, undoubtedly remembering her previous tree incident.

"It was not exactly my fault this time, Captain…."

"No, it never is, is it?" he said, as if to himself. She heard his comment, and was not amused – her eyes shot daggers at him. "What about the hideous thing you brought from the convent?"

"I'm afraid it was badly soiled after had to help bringing three kittens into the world the other day…"

"I will certainly want to hear everything about these kittens later, Fräulein." It was odd – he was not being sarcastic, he was not mocking her, he did not even sound angry. "Stay where you are for the moment, please," he said, as she motioned to continue descending the stairs. "Max, could you please…"

"Ah, certainly. I'll be in the drawing room. Captain. Fräulein," he bowed politely, leaving the foyer immediately through the drawing room, with the strangest smile in his face.

Now there she was, alone with him.

What made it all more unsettling was the expression in his face when he looked up at her, after making sure that Herr Detweiler was gone. He practically looked like another man altogether, a man she did not know in person yet, but had just glimpsed when she saw him singing with the children. Almost like the legendary Captain the children raved about…

"Fraulein..."

What on earth was going on?

His words were given him every indication that she had indeed been fired, that the curious little debate about what had happened to her dresses happened only because he was the Captain, and he would always want to know everything. Biting her lips, she tried her best to hold his gaze, and discovered, in that instant, that, for some reason, it was a lot easier to do that when he was angry.

"Please," she pleaded bravely. "It will be dark soon. The… my bus leaves in five minutes, and if I miss it there won't be another one until tomorrow morning. I still have to fetch my guitar case in the gazebo."

"There is no reason to fret; I'll have it fetched for you. Forget the bus," he added, dismissively. "I will drive you myself, if necessary."

"You?" She looked absolutely dumbfounded.

"Oh, I assure you, Fräulein, I can drive… Better than you can handle a skiff, at least." She let out one of outraged little moans, and he felt his lips curve into a smile. "I'll drive you to your Abbey if you still wish to go after… after I talk to you."

"But Captain, you just fired me…"

"Can't you stop being difficult just for a moment, Fräulein? It doesn't matter if I fired you or not. I obviously cannot allow you to return to Salzburg in such a state. Not when I gave the Reverend Mother every reassurance that no harm would come to you in this house."

"Oh, do not worry, I am not harmed, Captain. This dress will be dry before I even get into the bus. It is quite a walk to the village." Her voice trailed away, as she caught him staring at her with the most unspeakable expression in his face. It was almost as if she were a little daft, as if there was something meaningful about her dress being wet that she did not quite grasp. At the same time, there was something in his eyes that was so intense that she was unable to hold his gaze any longer. Feeling her cheeks grow strangely warm, she lowered her gaze for a second.

He spoke then, very seriously. "If you think for a moment that I will allow you to wander alone in the dark dressed like that, Fräulein, I…"

Her head was bowed low because she had been avoiding his eyes. When he said those words, she saw exactly what he meant, she saw it right in the direction of her eyes. Her head snapped up instantly. She dropped her carpet bag and crossed her arms in front of her chest, with a shocked little moan.

How could she have been so naïve, or so distressed that she did not notice her own condition before? What was it about her that, when angry, she would forget everything else except for her anger, even herself? The fabric of her bodice covered her as best as her habit ever would under normal circumstances, but when wet, it was sheer, so that…

"Oh no, no, no!" she swallowed. It was so horribly embarrassing. Even now, with the fabric almost dry, her attire was still revealing, to say the least, especially around her bosom.

What was she turning to?

In her first day in the house, she fell on top of Captain von Trapp and was unable to control her hysterical laugher as he tried to disentangle himself from her. Now she was parading in front of him, his guests, and his children, in wet clothes that were horribly revealing. Had he been the only one to notice that? Why anyone else didn't say anything to her until she had to hear it from him?

He seemed to have read her thoughts. "You don't have to derogate yourself, Fräulein. I... behaved badly. I apologize," he said softly.

"No, I'm…" At first she was not sure exactly what he was apologizing for – if for their fight or for pointing out the state of her clothes. Among all options, she chose the safest one, for the time being. "I'm far too outspoken. It's one of my worst faults."

He shook his head. "It is not just that, Fräulein, although we will discuss that matter in a moment. I had no right to… embarrass you about. – uh - your attire. Not when the first thing I heard from you after you fell on the water was a request to go inside and change."

"A request which you denied," she added, accusingly, now self consciously crossing her arms against her chest.

"Guilty as charged. You were right about that, and many other things as well." He paused briefly before saying, "I don't know my children."

When she heard the admission that was so evidently painful to him, Maria softened. Her arms relaxed and fell to the side. Maybe she had not vanquished the sphinx, but maybe she had weakened him a little. There could be hope after all. She held on to the banister, and leaned down a little to talk to him.

"There's still time, Captain. They want so much to be close to you."

"I know… Tell me, am I as difficult as you are, perhaps -Fräulein?" he asked slowly and carefully, almost as if he were bracing herself for another one of her verbal attacks.

She gave him the blunt, honest answer that he clearly expected of her. "Much more, Captain! At least as far as your children's upbringing is concerned."

"O-ho, yes. You have stated your opinion very, very clearly about that."

"I know I went too far, but as I said, you had to hear it from someone!" Maria took the opportunity to stress her points of view more clearly and less emotionally his time. Ignoring the frown that was once again threatening to appear in his forehead, she continued, this time in a much leveled tone. "Now you have nothing to loose, Maria – you've lost it all," she told herself, before taking a deep breath and using what could be the last opportunity to help that family.

"I may not have much experience with family life, but I have lived enough to know that children belong together with their parents. Naturally, when the father is traveling all the time..." He frowned at her, and the haughty aristocrat again swiftly returned. There was, however, more than just annoyance in his penetrating gaze.

"Fräulein…"

"I am sorry; I did not mean to meddle again. If you could just let me go now… I need to… to catch that bus!"

It was odd, but he seemed to be no longer listening to her babble. But he was looking at her, really looking. Maria did not think anyone had ever gazed at her so attentively before, with such… wonderment? Scrutiny?

"I must be seeing things," she thought. "The lake water I swallowed must have affected my sanity…"

"I assure you that everything you said will be considered in due time."

"It will?"

"Yes. Congratulations, Fräulein – that is one battle you won. For the moment only, I am not ready to concede you complete victory yet."

"No, I imagine you would not, Captain," was her honest remark.

"There is something else I have in mind, however. Something much more meaningful and important. Something else that you have done."

Her heart sank.

"Now what?" she asked herself. What else had she done? It had not been the meddling, not the wet floor, not the state of her clothes, not the children's play clothes. That left only…

He provided her with the answer, but not with words she would ever expect to hear from him.

"You've brought... music back into the house. I had forgotten." His eyes were so painfully blue, so expressive when he said that that they burned her. She could not look away.

"Music?" she whispered, and tried to bring out her thoughts back to the word, and not in his eyes.

Music was something that was always part of her life, even in the darkest days of her childhood, and she had never stopped for a moment to think what it could mean to live without it. She certainly never had, never even tried to. How could anyone live without music? Yet, the Captain had survived three years pretending that it simply not existed, and, what was worse, keeping his children from enjoying what was obviously a natural talent the whole family possessed. The mysterious grand piano that she was yet to see, locked away a dusty attic, was a symbol of all that – of how much music once meant to this man and his family, and how much it meant for all of them to have it back.

She remember Frau Poppmeier rambling about the piano while they were working on the children's play clothes:

"Twelve strong men. That was how many of them were needed to lift the piano up there. Since it could not possibly be carried through the narrow stairs to the attic, they had to use the window. It wasn't large enough, so it had to be broken, and part of the wall surrounding it. The Captain did not mind any of that mess. He would not mind bringing the whole house down, if necessary. All he wanted was the Bösendorfer out of his sight."(1)

Would he want the piano back where it belonged now?

How many doors and windows would be willing to break this time in order to finally have music fully back in the house? Would what she had accomplished be enough, not only to bring music back, but to bring a father to his children as well? How many of his own strict rules he would have to willingly break before that happened?

"When the Lord closes a door," she started to quote the Reverend Mother, but he stopped her.

"Fraulein." She looked at him again, the look in his eyes more than enough to render her speechless. "I want you to stay," he smiled contritely. "I ask you to stay."

It took her a few seconds to fully process what he had just said, and to convince herself that he had actually said it.

I want you to stay. I ask you to stay…

Those words would follow her for the months to come. There would not be a day when she would not remember them. There would not be a night she would not dream about the moment when he said them. Words that would haunt her, but also, in the end, give her hope. Finally, although it would be weeks before she realized it, words that had been the first indication that a new window had finally opened itself for her.

"If I could be of any help," she said, her hands gripping the banister once more, feeling the solid wood beneath her fingers convince her that she was indeed awake. "Oh Lord, please, let me stay," she prayed inwardly.

He wanted her to stay. He asked her to stay.

"You have already. More than you know." Their eyes met again. "But…"

Maria felt apprehensive again. There always had to be a "but" with him. She decided to speak up before he said anything else.

"I'll try to live by your rules from now on. I'll try, I promise I will!"

He smirked. "Fräulein, I was under the impression that young postulants such as yourself were taught at the Abbey not to make promises they certainly will not be able to keep. That is one rule that I certainly live by. I never break a promise," he said, his eyes unbearably intense.

Yes, he had a point, hadn't he? If he indeed allowed her to stay, he knew as well as she knew that in less than one day, she would be finding a way to defy him, in spite of herself. His behavior was still puzzling – she simply could not read what was going on in his mind. He wasn't angry, he wasn't mocking her. It was almost like if he admired her stubbornness.

He took a few steps forward. She thought he was going to climb up the stairs to meet her halfway, but he simply rested his right leg in the first step. "And since both of us obviously take our promises very seriously, I must tell you that I too, shall try."

Her eyes widened. "I am not sure I follow you, Captain."

"Oh yes, you do, Fräulein. You follow me perfectly." His look was meaningful enough to let her understand the rest of his message. He would not allow her to do as she pleased, to break all the rules concerning the running of the household and the children's upbringing all at once. After all, he was still the Captain, the head of the house. His word was still the law within the grounds of the Trapp villa, just as it once was in the strict confines of his U-boats. If she wanted to make changes, she would have to convince him first that they were necessary.

Oh, that would be tiring. Maria immediately concluded that she would have to prepare herself for at least one battle of day. It was something that she would not mind – on the contrary, something that she would look forward to. Not only it would be for a very good cause – he was certainly a worthy opponent.

"I see that you understood my message," he added, ironically. "Yes, you are staying until September. I'll be honest, I am not sure if it is even wise of me to ask you to stay, but for some reason I want you to stay. I need you to." His voice, which had softened when he said the last few words, hardened again. "However, I would very appreciate if you tried to control the amount of – uh - chaos you bring into this house." She swallowed. "I am having dinner in town with my guests tonight," he informed. "I am expecting you in my study tomorrow, at 10 in the morning, so that we can start discussing about my children's musical education - or lamentable lack thereof. Try not to be late, will you please?"

She nodded. "Very well, Captain! I'll see about the children and their dinner now."

With a gentlemanly bow and a quick, half smile, the Captain strode back to the drawing room.

There – it was done.

Her sigh of relief was audible – in fact, she wanted to shout her feelings. Instead, she merely clasped her hands, and smiled. Looking heavenward, she thanked the Lord.

She was staying. She passed the test – she was officially a governess now. Oh, she already had a million ideas dancing around her head, about what to do with the children for the next couple of months.

"When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window," she chanted, skipping as she made her way to the nursery.

THE END… OR THE VERY BEGINNING? (2)

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A/N: (1) Bösendorfer is considered to be one of the eldest piano manufacturers in the world. The company was founded in Austria, in 1828. (2) If you like to read my stories in order, next you should go to "Intermezzo I – Ignorance is Bliss".