Belated, I know. This is something of a follow up to my previous story We Need Each Other but probably possible to read one without the other. In short, after series 1 Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes are now married, William and Matthew have both gone to fight, Matthew was killed last January. Mrs Hughes' nephew has replaced William as a footman. Mrs Crawley has been living in the main house since. Shortly after Lady Sybil eloped with Branson to Manchester. Enjoy.

Christmas 1915

It was freezing standing on the drive, but at least the sun was out. The light reflected off the thin layer of snow that had fallen the night before. Charles hoped that the motor would be all right, he did not relish the thought of Lady Violet's temper should she have to walk from the Dowager House. He paced back and forth on the door step to try and keep warm. Finally, the motor pulled up and he rushed forward to help the lady descend.

"Merry Christmas, Carson."

"Thank you very much, m'Lady," he replied offering his arm to help her up the step.

"Compliments of the season to Mrs Carson too, that is if I don't see her today."

"I imagine you will, m'Lady. But thank you on her behalf."

They crossed the main hall to the drawing room where the ladies had gathered for the morning. He opened the door.

"Lady Violet, the Dowager Countess."

There was an approving wave from the corner where Lady Grantham and Mrs Crawley were positioned.

"Thank you, Carson. I think we can manage from here."

The hubbub of activity downstairs was quite a contrast to the good-willed serenity in the main house. It was, however, no less merry below stairs despite the amount of work to be done.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Carson!"

"Thank you Daisy."

The girl smiled as she ran past him, almost tripping over a loose bootlace.

"Daisy!"

The cry rang through down the walls of the servants' quarters with august strength.

"Coming, Mrs Patmore!"

Charles continued on his way. Elsie was in her sitting room. She did not turn around to confirm it was him, no one else had the audacity to burst in without knocking.

"What was Daisy doing in your sitting room?" he wanted to know.

She secured the last strand of hair in place and turned to face her husband.

"Looking for Harry."

"Hm."

He couldn't help but notice that the housekeeper's nephew was becoming rather popular with the girl. Such a thing would be highly improper at such a young age...

You don't think they're walking out, do you?"

She shook her head with confidence.

"She still misses William far too much," was the reply.

He was not altogether convinced.

"I still think we should keep an eye on them," he told her, "Two members of staff...-"

"Taking off and getting married like that- what would people say?" she finished for him with more than a hint of amusement in her tone.

"We were different," he said firmly, "We were old enough to know what we were doing."

"You can say that again."

"And just think of the trouble you would get off that beastly sister of yours if Harry got into any bother."

Pause.

"Point taken, we'll keep an eye on them."

He smiled down on her, she could be a fierce opponent but it was very satisfying to prove a point against her. There was, however, no chance that she would stop being able to read him like a book any time soon:

"Don't look so smug when I have my back turned."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs Carson."

She gave an exasperated sigh.

"Merry Christmas, dear."

It was a strange experience for a man to take his Christmas dinner at the family table with the man who had once been his chauffeur, Lord Grantham concluded. It was rather a blessing that Mr Branson was so smartly turned out, his hair combed neatly back and talking enthusiastically to Mrs Crawley on his right. If anything, he was grateful for the male company; since Matthew's death Robert had more than once felt slightly outnumbered at the dinner table and his son-in-law's presence was certainly helping matters. He was extremely glad that his mother had sufficiently forgiven his youngest daughter and consented to her and her husband visiting for Christmas. They were certainly a breath of fresh air to have in the house, there was a kind of youthful optimism about them that was effecting the whole house.

"And Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes got married in late Spring."

"Oh, I know that!" Sybil told her mother with a dismissive wave, "I went to see Mrs Hughes- sorry- Mrs Carson last night, almost as soon as I got here."

"Oh certainly! Before she has even seen her own grandmother, she has been round to see half of the servants!"

Lady Violet was still taking the whole elopement affair very badly.

"She's not half the staff!" Sybil told her grandmother calmly, "Though I don't doubt she could still manage it if she was."

"Very true," her mother agreed, "Mrs Hu- Carson!- When will remember that she's changed her name?- is an absolute angel."

"And to think we could have lost her if she'd married anyone other than our own butler!" Robert decided to contribute.

"I still think it's terribly hard on you having to give up two of your rooms," his mother remarked.

Cora was dismissive.

"They were only the old nursery and you can't expect a married couple to live with the rest of the servants- no privacy at all!"

"Quite right, Mama," Edith agreed.

"Anyway," Cora continued, "It isn't as if we're going to ever use those rooms again...-"

She was cut short with a clatter as Sybil sent her glass flying off the table.

"Right, they're all sorted out upstairs, we should be able to get started."

There was much enthusiasm, Christmas lunch in the servants' quarters was always an experience. A roaring scraping of chairs ensued along with the setting down of numerous dishes. Elsie took up her usual seat next to Charles. On odd fleeting occasions it troubled her that she and Charles had not been married when they were young enough to have children of their own, but times like these made her realise that she already had charges enough and- truth be told- wouldn't swap them for all the world. She smiled Anna passed her a dish of roast potatoes.

Vigorous eating went on for several minutes. There was more noise than usual; a merry buzz of chatter filled the room. Every once in a while she stole a glance at her husband chatting enthusiastically with Mr Mosley and Mr Bates. It was ridiculous that she should still feel shy about doing this- she had, after all, managed to marry the man! He looked very sweet, tinged red in the face from the wine with a paper hat perched jauntily on his head. She smiled before returning to her plate and listening to what Anna was saying about the Christmases she had had at home.

They were alerted by the sound of the back door being closed; no one was expected. Charles looked up with a motion that caused his paper hat to fall off. There was the distinct sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. Elsie glanced at Anna then at Charles; they were both clearly as clueless as she was.

A figure appeared at the foot of the table clad mainly in khaki and bundled in a think woollen scarf not dissimilar to the one Elsie had found herself posting in October. She put her hand to her mouth. It was Daisy who broke the tense silence that had fallen.

"William?"

Somewhere between the two young people a wave of recognition seemed to pass. Before Elsie knew what had hit her the girl had sprung from her chair and thrown her arms around his neck. She shortly let him go, no doubt realising that the eyes of all of the servants were upon them. William, his face glowing, addressed Charles.

"I have a week's leave, Mr Carson," he told his former superior, "I'm sorry, I don't really have anywhere else to go."

Charles nodded.

"Daisy," he told the girl, "Find William a chair. I think we can dispense with formality and allow him to sit next to you."

The staff resumed eating with even greater enthusiasm than before. There was something terribly smug about the way Elsie was smiling at her plate, as if it appreciated that she'd been right about Daisy and William.

"Damn that bell."

"It was you who said you didn't mind us having one in here," she reminded him.

They were sitting in the sitting room they shared in the old nurseries.

"Yes," he told her, exasperated, "But I thought it would occasionally get you out of my hair rather than vice versa."

"I love you too, Charles."

Having re-done his bow tie he smiled down at his wife and gave her a swift kiss on the head before going to exit.

"I won't be long," he told her.

She sighed, she had been ready for a quiet night by the fire with her husband. She crossed her legs around herself and took up the cup of tea that she had abandoned on his return. Much to her surprise, a tap on the door came.

"Come in?"

It surprised her still further, when Lady Sybil's head appeared around the door.

"I hope I'm not intruding, Mrs Carson."

"Certainly not, Mrs Branson, Mr Carson has just been called out. Knowing him he will be some time."

The girl took an armchair.

"We sound ancient, talking like that," she remarked.

"I am ancient," Elsie reminded her with a wry smile, "But I'm used to it. Would you like some tea?"

"No thank you," Lady Sybil replied, "I actually came to talk about something rather specific."

"Oh?"

"The thing is," the girl continued cautiously, "There's something I- Mr Branson and I- need to talk to Mama and Papa about. Rather a delicate matter."

Elsie had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"You see, Mrs Hughes- Mrs Carson, even- I'm pregnant."

Yes, Elsie thought, at least I can claim intuition, if nothing else. There was a pause.

"Ah."

"Precisely."

"Congratulations."

"Mrs Hughes, what on earth will they say?"

"I'm not sure."

More if you would like. Please review and tell me what you think of it.