Fraulein, you will stay here, please!"
Maria froze in her tracks at the sound of his voice. At the very same moment, Elsa muttered something about Max and walked, quickly, toward the house. Georg noticed she gave the slightest glance at Maria as she passed her, but she continued on without stopping.
Maria stood, rooted to where she'd stopped, in a brown dress and a beige blouse that in their soaking wet condition, clung wickedly to her body. The blouse, nearly sheer now, barely covered her at all, he could see her skin right through it. Georg no longer needed to imagine what had been under the ugly convent dress, or her baggy nightgown. It was on display, right in front of him. Without warning, she turned to face him, and his breath hitched upon seeing the cleft of her cleavage through the material.
Quickly he gathered his thoughts. "Now, Fraulein, I want a truthful answer from you." He looked her in the eye, praying as he did that she wouldn't see his desire for her burning within.
"Yes, Captain?", her voice was strong, yet oddly quiet.
"Is it possible, or could I have just imagined it... have my children by any chance been climbing trees today?" He couldn't look away from her, so instead he set his jaw and steeled his eyes, walling himself off with his anger.
"Yes, Captain." She met his gaze, her eyes blazing, contrasting with the steadiness in her voice.
"I see." Barely containing his fury, Georg held up the scarf he'd torn from Louisa's head, still dripping with lake water. "And where, may I ask, did they get these, um, these, uh ...?"
"Play clothes." Maria fixed her gaze on him, challenging him.
"Oh, is that what you call them?"
"I made them. From the drapes that used to hang in my bedroom." There was that impertinent streak again, Georg thought. It was at once irritating and irresistible.
"Drapes!" he exclaimed.
"They still had plenty of wear left. The children have been everywhere in them." At this last remark, Georg couldn't tell if she was baiting him on purpose or not.
"Do you mean to tell me that my children have been roaming about Salzburg dressed up in nothing but some old drapes?!" He punctuated his question by throwing the dripping scarf to the ground.
"Mm-hmm. And having a marvelous time!" She smiled at him defiantly. Now he knew she was indeed baiting him on purpose.
"They have uniforms!" He spoke sharply to her, turning away.
"Straitjackets, if you'll forgive me." She nearly spit the words at him, her anger with him becoming palpable.
"I will not forgive you for that." Georg was now barely able to control himself. He began pacing, trying to keep away from her, the dress still stuck to her body in all the right/wrong places. His physical reaction to her was beginning to distract him from the need to put her in her proper place.
"Children cannot do all the things they're supposed to do if they have to worry about spoiling their precious clothes all the ..."
Georg interrupted her. "I haven't heard them complain yet."
"Well, they wouldn't dare! They love you too much. They fear you too much." She stood, challenging him, daring him to respond.
