Prompt: Sybbie's first Christmas at Downton Abbey with the family (plus pregnant Mary/Matthew moment) ;)

A/N: A brief explanation of our circumstances:) AU of course – Sybil and Matthew are safe and sound. However Edith is single. The Bransons live in Dublin, Ireland is independent since 1921. Their daughter was born there in Sep 1920 but the age difference between Sybbie and George will be bigger than in the show (let's say that Mary's treatment was longer) – I wanted Sybbie to be older so that she can fully participate in all Christmas events and everything suits to my plan and the prompt you – Broadway Baggins gave me. Hope you enjoy it! Happy Holidays to you and all readers!

Disclaimer: Written for fun, not for profits. I don't own these characters, they belong to Julian Fellows and I thank him for inspirations.

"Downton Little Christmas"

Christmas, 1924

Sybbie Branson pressed her little nose against the cold glass of a car window. The whole road from the harbour she was looking out with hope to see the snow at last, but the day was constantly just as foggy and dreary as it was when they got out of the boat this morning. She pouted. It was so boring to be alone on the back seat while her parents were talking on the front. The little girl remembered that the cruise is long because they had been covering the same distance in summer when the three of them visited Downton for holidays. However the journey was dragging on even so. To tell the truth this time there was something additional that occupied Sybbie's mind and kept her restless...

'Mammy, will Daidi na Nollag know where to bring my presents? ' –she asked out of nowhere – 'Does he know that I'm in England this year?'

Tom who was driving took his eyes off the road for a moment and looked at his wife. The couple exchanged smiles.

'Of course, Sweetie!'- Sybil turned to her daughter – 'He watches you and knows everything! So you'd better cheer up at once!' –she touched her little daughter's nose – 'By the way, here in England he is called Father Christmas.'

'Oh, everything is so different here' – sighed Sybbie.

'Different doesn't mean worse' – said Sybil kindly – 'Remember how you wanted to go for the Midnight Mass last year with us? In England the whole family goes to church on Christmas Day, before noon. Mr Travis leads a choir of children slightly older than you. All parishioners admire their performance and carol altogether.'

'But I already miss Granny and her redcurrant jelly and our Christmas Tree…'

'Oh, God knows I miss them too' – murmured Tom but Sybil managed to hear him. She glared at her husband.

'And what about the Christmas Crackers?' –asked the baby again.

'I wouldn't count on it…' – Tom looked at his wife checking how far can he go in his whining.

'There won't be Christmas Crackers? How is that possible?' – cried the little girl worried.

'Sybbie' - asked Tom – 'Can you imagine you Grandpapa wearing a paper crown?'

'Enough! Tom you're not helping!' – Sybil scolded him and looked back –'Sybbie, we will have many other attractions and tasty treats! And there is a Christmas Tree at Downton! It reaches the ceiling in Great Hall. Your Da can confirm it, can't he?'

'All I could remember from my Christmases at Downton Abbey form the past is being stuck in the snowstorm while driving your Grandmother to the big house for Christmas Dinner. I'm sorry, Love!' – said Tom determined to be sceptical.

'Oh!' - the adult Sybil was the one who pouted now – 'If you two are going to be such wet blankets I swear I'll not tell a single world to you the whole Christmas!'

Tom turned and exchanged a meaningful look with his little one. They both knew that in this case objection will lead them to nowhere and being in a majority didn't seem to give them any privileges at all…

'Look!' – shouted Sybbie suddenly getting up from her seat, pointing to the house that already appeared on the horizon – 'Downton!'

ooo

As far as Tom thought that he could rely on his little ally he couldn't help it but have to say goodbye to that comforting thought right the moment The Bransons crossed the threshold of the house.

'Sybbie, My Dear! You grow so fast!'

'Auntie Mary! You're so… big!' – said the little girl and warmly hugged her pregnant aunt.

'Sybbie!' – her mother reprimanded her.

'We're so glad to see all of you' – Isobel and Matthew welcome them - 'How was the journey?'

Sybbie was running around the hallway, peering into every corner. Holly and fir-tree twigs everywhere, the huge Christmas wreath hanging over the main door that lead to the Great Hall - nothing could escape her attention.

'There is tea in the library' – said Edith after Jimmy took the travellers luggage.

'There is that big Christmas Tree in the hall!' – said Sybbie leaning out of the pillar. She pulled her father firmly by the hand.

'Excuse us! Looks to me like we're choosing the second option' – Tom managed to say before he was forced to follow his little daughter.

It was a huge pine standing in the centre of the hall. The smell of fresh forest was wonderfully filling the air. Tom picked up his little one. They were admiring the Christmas Tree decked out in different ornaments for a while. Beautiful hand-painted glass balls in all shapes and sizes made a magnificent composition with all those golden garlands. Some of them looked very old as if they remembered Lord Grantham's adolescent years. Sybbie noticed plenty of candy canes, Lady Grantham's creativity for sure, and murmured with appreciation.

'We left the last few ornaments to hang for you' – said Anna when she saw them watching.

Sybbie jumped down off the arms of her dad. She was running towards the tree when suddenly something soft and wet threw up on her, almost knocking the kid flat.

'Isis! Good doggy!' – said Sybbie and stroked the bitch behind the ears – 'Did you miss me?'

Sybbie laughed. The dog looked funny, accidentally tangled up in some chains. Thanks to Sybbie they were soon placed on the lower branches of the tree as she managed to release Isis from them. Mrs Hughes helped the girl climb the wooden ladder. Soon they hanged all those remained toys on the Christmas Tree.

'Who are those presents for?' – asked the child with curiosity, when she noticed some gifts nicely wrapped, laying on the floor under the tree.

'For tenant's children, Miss Sybbie' – answered the housekeeper.

'Who is a tenant, Daddy?'

'I'll explain it to you later My Darling. Now look what is going to happened!' – said Tom taking Sybbie by her small hand and stepping a few paces back.

The rest of the family joined them and everyone waited impatiently for Mr Carson to turn on the lights. Finally the whole hall filled with the brightest glow.

'Oh!' – Sybbie's eyes widened – 'I've never seen such Christmas Tree, Da!'

'Because Christmas in Ireland is about spirit not glitter '– thought Tom but bearing in mind what he promised his wife earlier, before they left their home, he bit his tongue and settled for a smile. Holding her up and kissed his daughter forehead.

'Mammy was right!' – Sybbie rested her head on Tom's shoulder.

'She was, My Dear. This one really makes an impression!'

ooo

'It's so nice to have the whole family at home!' – said Lady Grantham looking at her girls - 'I almost forgot how the children make this festive time even more lovely, bringing so much joy to it. Just think that next year there will be another little one…' – she paused and stroked the mother-to-be by her hand. Mary smiled to Cora.

The women decided to stay at home before dinner, while Robert encouraged the men to accompany him in his walk to the woods. Checking the shooting poles, prepared for the great annual shooting party organized on the Boxing Day, was something he always paid a great attention to. The Crawley sisters enjoyed their time together spent on drinking tea and packing some remained presents. They had just finished decorating the sitting-room with last sprigs of ivy and holly and started to hang stockings upon the fireplace. The fire crackled merrily.

'Mammy why are we hanging stockings upon the fireplace?' – asked Sybbie – 'At home I hang them on a bedpost!'

'Because Santa came to the room through chimney, My Dear' - clarified her mother –'Don't you know?'

'Won't he burn himself?'

Sybbie's aunts and grandmother chuckled.

'No, Darling. He has a lot of practice. I can assure you.'

'Later Santa can rest and eat up.' – added Edith – 'When we were children - your Mammy , Auntie Mary and I, we used to leave a mince pie and a glass of sherry for him, didn't we?'

Her sisters nodded.

'When I was a girl of your age Sybbie, my brother, Harold, and I were always preparing biscuits and milk.'– said Cora and stroked her head while the little girl sat on her lap.

'It's good that Santy may taste so many different treats in every country!'

The women laughed. Then the little girl got up and slipped from Cora's knees.

'What is it, Sybbie?' –asked her mother.

'We forgot about someone, Ma!' – said Sybbie and unexpectedly run out of the room leaving her family in a daze.

ooo

'Can I take one carrot, please?'

Mrs Patmore and Daisy rose up her heads, dragging themselves away from kneading the pastry. They were more than surprised to see the little girl at the kitchen's door.

'Miss Sybbie! You're not hungry, are you?' –asked the cook.

'No! It is for the reindeer who will come with Daidi na… Santa at night!'

'Oh, of course Young Lady!' – the cook smiled, cleaned her hands and came to the basket with vegetables that stood nearby - 'I wonder why I never toughed about the poor Rudolph!'

'We, Irish children always do!'

'And It's always nice to learn something new. Here you are.' - Mrs Patmore took one big carrot and handed it to Sybbie.

'What at are you doing? – asked the kid and climbed up on the stool.

'It's Christmas Cake' – explained Daisy.

'Oh! I love Christmas Cake!' – the little one brightened up –'My Ma also bakes delicious Christmas Cake!'

'Young Lady' –said the cook proudly – 'I don't want o boast but I am the one who showed her all the culinary secrets!'

Then they heard footsteps.

'Oh Sybbie! Here you are!' – her mother entered the kitchen – 'I was looking for you! You mustn't disturb.'

'Milady' – the cooks curtsied with esteem – 'She wasn't disturbing at all. We were just chatting' – said Mrs Patmore kindly.

'So I see' –smiled Mrs Branson sitting at the table, taking her daughter and placing her on her lap – 'Oh what do we have here. The Christmas Cake!' - she said excited.

'Mrs Patmore said it's the same as yours, Ma! I can't wait to taste it!'

'Actually we make this one for servant's lunch…' – said Daisy.

Mrs Patmore cleared her throat.

'Oh, so isn't it for me?' –worried little girl.

'I think you can come and taste it when…' – started Daisy but failed to end when her superior kicked her firmly under the table.

'Ouch!'

'Daisy go to the pantry at once! Quick, quick girl!' – Mrs Patmore rushed Daisy – 'We need two more jars of pumpkin jam!'

The cook assistant ran out in a hurry.

'We will be happy to come, won't we Mammy?'

'Well…' – Sybil got confused.

'Can we come? Please…' – Sybbie fluttered her eyelashes charmingly.

'Oh… well, of course… We'll be honoured.' - answered Mrs Patmore.

'What about Da, Mummy? We cannot leave him alone!'

'I know, Sweetie' – Sybil chuckled - 'Mrs Patmore is there a place for another one guest?'

'Of course, Milady.'

'Deal!' – Sybbie clapped her hands overjoyed – 'We three feel invited' – she added in her best 'official' tone.

Sybil ran her hand across her forehead and smiled wanly.

'Oh dear' – sighted Mrs Patmore heavily when the two ladies left a couple minutes later.

ooo

'Watch out Sybbie! I'd better do it' - said Tom and lit a match.

He lead his daughter's hand and helped her to light the big , white candle. Then his little daughter slowly took it by its copper base and placed it carefully on the windowsill. The drawing room's window glass brightened by the reflected light.

'Is it a kind of Irish tradition?' – asked Violet in her theatrical whisper. She and her youngest granddaughter were standing beside the fireplace, watching.

'Yes it is, Granny' - clarified Sybil – 'A symbol of welcome to Mary and Joseph as they travelled looking for shelter.'

'Or to mark safe place for priests to perform mass as, during Penal Times this was not allowed.' – added Tom loudly.

Shaking her head Sybil sighed but smiled as Old Lady Grantham raised her eyebrows with surprise. Leaving her Mrs Branson approached her husband and daughter.

'Very well, Sweetie.' – Sybil crouched beside and stroked Sybbie's back.

'Sybbie!' – the mother raised her head –'Look up! Do you remember what is it?'

'Mistle…'

'Mistletoe, My Dear!'

She stood up and picked one, white berry.

'See? You take one berry and then give your beloved one kiss, like this' – said Sybil crouching again and placing a little kiss on her daughter's cheek. The little girl laughed while Mammy tickled her neck.

'But remember, you mustn't eat the fruit. It's poisonous. My Papa often warned me of that. One year I didn't listen to him. It tasted awfully and made me feel sick the whole Christmas Day! I couldn't even eat the plum pudding which, as everyone knows, is my huge weakness.'

Sybbie nodded obediently but got out her mother's embraces as soon as she saw Isis entered the room.

'If I were your Papa I wouldn't allow to hang mistletoe all over the house while inviting my daughter and her 'uppity chauffeur husband' – said Tom smirking.

'I think he likes standing under it too much himself to care for you at this point!'

'So, you liked to break the rules since little girl…' – he whispered reaching up for another small fruit.

Sybil smiled and bit her lip.

'Yeah, that was terribly sour!'

'Then…' – he leaned –'…to erase all those bad memories' – nuzzled with her – 'I'll give you something sweet'

ooo

All those long hours spent on waiting, sitting at the armchair and looking out were finally generously rewarded when Sybbie came to the window one last time before she went to bed on Christmas Eve.

'Mammy! It's snowing! Finally!' – the little girl cried as she heard some footsteps coming from behind her.

'Oh It's you Auntie Mary!' –she corrected herself when she turned out – 'Look! How wonderful!'

'I know, My Darling' – said Mary and came closer to her niece. They were admiring the view for a while. Then Sybbie broke the silence.

'I'm glad you came, Auntie! You're very much needed here!'

'Am I? Why is that so?' – asked her Mary.

'The candle' – said Sybbie pointing at the right side – 'My Grandma always says that a girl bearing a name 'Mary' should blow it out. The tradition says so. There is no 'Mary' in our family in Dublin so she lets me do it' – she smiled proudly – 'But this time you have the right to do it Auntie!'

'It'll be my pleasure' – said Mary and gently blew out the candle. Then she squeezed the candle end with her fingers. Sybbie smiled. She turned to her aunt and hugged Mary, pushing her small face to her auntie's swollen belly. Mary stroked her hair.

'It's so funny that you're 'Mary' and you carry inside a little baby on Christmas Eve like that Mary from the Bible, isn't it, Auntie?'

Mary giggled.

'Auntie?'

'Yes, My Dear?'

'But It won't be born tonight, will it?' – said little girl looking at her abdomen.

'No, Sybbie. It'll take couple more weeks for sure.'

'And you're not going to call the baby 'Jesus', are you?'

She giggled again.

'No, My Dear. That one thing I can promise to you. It does not match 'Crawley', does it?'

'My thoughts' – Sybbie pressed tighter – 'I love to hug to you like this.'

'Me to' whispered Matthew to his wife's ear. Sybbie and Mary didn't even hear when he entered the room. He hugged her from behind.

'You're trapped Auntie Mary!' – said the little girl – 'We won't let you go will we uncle Matthew?'

'There is no way!'

'Oh Sybbie! Look at the clock! You mustn't be there when Santa came! I've been told he is not leaving presents if someone is watching him!'

'Oh no! I must go now!– jumped Sybbie looking at the clock – 'Goodnight!'

She quickly run of the room didn't even waiting for their 'goodnight'. The couple burst out with laugh.

They looked through the window to see the world outside quickly covering with white coat.

'Call me sentimental but every year I see the first snow…' – said Matthew pushing his cheek near to Mary's –'… I can't help but think of one, magical evening form not so far away past…'

Mary smiled and nestled in her beloved's arms. They were standing admiring the winter wonderland again, looking at the snowflakes dancing in the wind.

'Me too' – she said and he placed a small kiss right behind her ear – 'I like to think how little changed although it's four years now...'

'Oh, one thing definitely changed!' – said Matthew. Mary looked at him questioningly.

'Tonight I wouldn't let you go outside without a coat and a warm cap!'

'It's all right.' - Mary turned and looked him in the eyes –'I'm not going anywhere.'

ooo

All Sybbie's earlier worries were unreasonable. Not only Father Christmas knew where to deliver her gifts but also gave her the very one she asked for. Generally Sybbie got the impression that Santa treats the English more generously. If so she started to seriously consider asking her parents to make Downton Abbey Christmas a rule. Everyone seemed pleased with the gifts. Lady Grantham immediately tried on her elegant silk hat, while her husband was looking with pride at his collection of fountain pens. Isobel smiled when she unwrapped her nutcracker. She was more than sure that she had seen it somewhere before…

Sybbie could spend the whole morning sitting on the carpet, playing with her beautiful porcelain doll and tasting all her chocolates and sweets but soon it came the time to go to church. Her mummy didn't lie to her also in this topic.

'I've never seen such a large choir of carollers!' – said Sybbie to her parents when they were coming back home – 'I have to tell everything Anna and Mrs Patmore and Daisy. When we go to them today!'

Sybil smiled uncertainly observing Sybbie's jumps in the snow. She thought that her daughter has already forgot... She hoped so or she was afraid of it? For that question had Sybil still no answer. On one hand that would be a great fun for Sybbie and Tom, but on the other…

When the family came back from church Mrs Branson waited for everybody to undress from their coats and scattered.

'Tom, we are invited to servants lunch but it's a secret!' – she said quickly, when they were alone in the hall. She took her husband's arm.

'We? You mean…' – started Tom, then he understood - 'Oh! Sybbie?'

She nodded.

'I'll explain it to you later, Love. I'm going to tell them that we miss lunch because we're … taking Sybbie for a walk to the village! To show her all those Christmas decorations and …'

She didn't finish because he closed her mouth with a deep kiss.

'Oh Lordy' – she groaned with pleasure when they parted – 'What was that for?'

'For who you are' - he said and looked up - 'And also for that reason!'

Mistletoe hanging right below the chandelier. Sybil giggled. Then she turned to go to the second floor and talk to her mother. Tom took his wife's hand.

'I'll follow you'

She looked at him surprised again.

'I'd like to keep close in case there is another bunch.'

ooo

'Three! Two! One!'

Shouted Jimmy and pulled the cracker. Candies fell throughout and pulled on the kitchen table. Few of them fell into the glass of Mr Carson. The place was such a lovely mess.

'This crown is for you, Miss Sybbie. You're our Queen today.'

'Oh! Thank you!' – she said proudly placing the paper hat on her head.

Sybbie was beaming with joy and her father chuckled with satisfaction. Looking at the contented faces of Sybil's loved ones made her feel that this is actually all she wanted from Christmas especially this year. And what's more she found a little bit surprising that the unconstrained ease was something that she missed too. They say you can get used to the luxury easily, but apparently you can also got accustomed to simplicity as well. What would her Granny say if she told her how many common themes to talk has the lady now with the maids?

She and Mrs Patmore were recalling times when Little Sybil was sneaking into the kitchen to steal some Christmas baking ingredients while Tom was enjoying the chat with Mr Bates. Later he told Sybil, which only reassured her that their little offense was worth it, that eating the lunch with the servants was a rare pleasure for him. Except Christmas and those years during the war, when due to reading papers he was well informed, he was never invited to dine there – the chauffeur's place was at his cottage.

During the meal Alfred arrived from London and brought some treats with him from that hotel's restaurant he was working at. Sybbie liked him at once. Although he was so tall that she hardly saw his face when he was talking. Thankfully soon the two of them found a solution. Sitting on his lap she could have listen to those interesting stories from the confectioner's work for ages.

However, the pitiless gong finally broke them away from the feasting.

'Thank you Mrs Hughes, it truly was a great pleasure.' – Sybil turned to the housekeeper when the time for The Bransons to leave came -'Now It will be far easier for me to force them to their evening outfits.'

Mrs Hughes smiled brightly.

'I still have an impression I should have consulted it with His Lordship.' – said Mrs Hughes - ' But I'm glad you enjoyed it very much, Milady!'

ooo

The roast turkey followed by the stuffed pheasant. Tom knew he has to be strong so that he doesn't reveal anything. He looked down and saw Isis walking near the table, constantly being hungry. Maybe if he is fortunate enough…

In spite having so many dinners with The Crawley's under his belt Tom still felt a little embarrassed sitting at this table. He really loved those people but today, keeping in mind their little secret, he felt like an intruder again. He glanced at Sybil to check how does she feel. She got busy devouring with appetite her today's third portion of plum pudding. Tom chuckled. His wife looked so pretty in her evening dress, being a 'lady' again. The ability to fit in any situation – that was undoubtedly one thing he envied her.

'How was the village?' – Robert asked his son-in-law.

'Oh, splendid, Grandpa!' – Tom's daughter released him because he got completely confound at first.

Sybil nodded vividly. Her daughter looked at her to find the acceptance and praise for being such a great actress. Tom winked to his girls. Everything was going well. They were eating, drinking, talking until…

'I hope that you're planning to stay with us until the Servants Ball, aren't you?' – suddenly asked Cora.

'Well…' – began Mrs Branson.

'But we've already been there! Today, Granny!' – cried Sybbie excited – ' It was a great fun! ' I was the Queen' – she added quieter because suddenly felt awkward although she yet didn't know why.

Violet choked on the bite of mince pie. Mary and Matthew tittered. The goose was cooked.

'Sybbie it was a servants lunch, not Servant's Ball' – said her mother slowly.

'Ops! So sorry Ma!' – said Sybbie worried and turned to the rest of the family - 'Ma and Da asked me to keep it secret. Since you might be sorry you didn't come!'

'Oh, how kindly of you' – murmured Old Lady Grantham wiping her mouth with a napkin. The little girl blushed and clung to her father. Tom kissed her head. 'It's all right' - he whispered.

'Oh! Don't worry Sybbie!' – Cora smiled noticing her granddaughter's sad face –'We're fine, aren't we Robert?'

Sybil looked at her father in anticipation. It seemed to her that the family was ready to give it a joke but it was Robert's reaction she was most afraid of. He opened his mouth hesitating as if he was fighting with himself.

It might have been the ginger wine or the Christmas spirit. Or maybe Sybil's mother gave him the same speech which she did to her husband before they arrived, but Lord Grantham finally - just smiled.

'Of course' – he said - 'As far as we'll be invited next year. Carson?'

'Certainly, My Lord' – the butler nodded straggling to keep serious. Sybbie cheered up a little.

'Or maybe you should be the one who invites the servants?' – sighed Violet.

They both laughed.

'Upon my soul' - she added –'The word went crazy.'

ooo

After the dining-room celebration, followed by the pantomime game in the living room (in which Mary was as always the unrivalled winner, although her delicate state) the family moved to library. Edith sat at the piano.

'Sybbie!' – she started – 'I'm sure you know plenty of Christmas songs, don't you?'

'Daddy taught me last year' – confirmed her little niece and leaned on the instrument.

"Once in Royal David's city, - she sang shyly -

Stood a lowly cattle shed…"

'Oh wait a moment!' – interrupted Edith looking through her book with notes in hurry – 'I have it here! We can perform it together'

'Really?' – asked Tom who was sitting on the couch next to them –'Isn't it Irish?'

'It seems to me that words are Irish indeed, but an Englishman, Henry Gauntlett' - she read – 'wrote the music. Sybbie, from the next line?'

"Where a mother laid her Baby, In a manger for His bed: Mary was that mother mild, Jesus Christ, her little Child."

Young Lady bowed gracefully while the others applauded her enthusiastically. The door opened. Sybil and Cora entered the room when the sounds of the music faded away.

'Love, what is the name of the old, Irish carol I like so much?' –asked Sybil sitting next to her husband.

'The Wexford Carol'

'Wexford?' – asked Isobel –' I thought you come from county Wicklow.'

'I was born in Wicklow that's right! But Wexford is a county neighbouring and my father's family lived there. I know this song for as long as I could remember…'

"Good people all, this Christmas time,

consider well and bear in mind

what our good God for us has done

in sending his beloved son' – sang Sybila a capella and Tom joined her -

'With Mary holy we should pray,

To God with love this Christmas Day

In Bethlehem upon that morn,

There was a blessed Messiah born!"

Sybil grabbed Tom's hand and they smiled brightly to each other. Then Robert, who was fidgeting nervously on his armchair for a while now, turned to his middle daughter.

'Edith, My Dear will you do me the pleasure – "On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me – he intoned his favourite carol with a low voice– a Partridge in a Pear Tree!"

Edith began to play as Cora, Matthew and Violet willingly followed Lord Grantham.

'What's so funny Tom?' – asked Sybil quietly when she saw him smirking.

'I'll tell you but you must promise to keep it to yourself.'

'I promise' –she whispered curiously.

'The Irish people used 'Twelve days of Christmas' to secretly teach children, when Catholicism was banned.'

'Unbelievable'- she mouthed shaking her head.

'I was taught that each gift represents one aspect of the Catholic faith…'

Sybil chuckled and Tom shushed her because Violet sent them a scary scowl.

'Two turtle doves mean Old and New Testaments' – Mr Branson whispered to his wife's ear – 'Three French hens are for faith, hope and charity and so on.' – he continued.

"Five Golden Ring!"- Sybil looked at Tom and joined her family in singing loudly. Smiling, their eyes never leaving each other's they sang together.

"Four Calling Birds,

Three French Hens,

To Turtle Doves'

And a Partridge in a Pear Tree!"

ooo

The house, a few hours ago so full of merry tunes and laughs was now quiet and moody. Mr Branson found his wife standing beside the fireplace with a cup of fragrant, rosewood tea in her hand. She was watching her elder sister and her husband. They were in the other corner of the room. Mary was telling something and Matthew was looking at here with such devotion and attention.

'I'm so happy for them' – said Sybil as she felt Tom's arms around her waist. He stroked her fondly.

'Sybbie's asleep?' – she asked him.

He nodded - 'Thank God for Mr Dickens.'

Sybil giggled.

'I'm serious it was a challenge to lull her tonight.' – he added –'We had to make a visit downstairs first, because Sybbie refused to go to bed until she gave her Christmas kisses, as she referred to them, to each member of the staff!'

'Ha, ha! I regret not seeing Mr Carlson face!'

'I'm not sure if I ever seen Sybbie so excited and delighted.'

'And what about you? How do you feel?' – she asked her face more serious.

'I don't know why I made so much fuss about it' – said Tom kissing Sybil's temple - 'Beside the fact that I'm a hopelessly indulgent father' –he added. His wife turned to him.

'And you are not better, Sybil Branson! Look at you father. I'm sure he thinks the servant's lunch was my idea.'

Robert indeed dragged from his conversation with Isobel and was piercing them with his eyes.

'Oh no, I've already explained everything to him. He'll be fine' – Sybil smiled mischievously – 'That's not what is troubling him at this moment.'

'What do you mean?'

She raised her eyes. He followed her just to find a bunch of mistletoe hanging over their heads.

'Oh! How unexpectedly!'

'Don't even try to pretend that you complain…' – said Sybil and put the cup of tea aside. Then she took her husband face in her hands and kissed him lovingly – 'Merry Christmas, Darling.'

'Merry Christmas!'

THE END

A/N: Thanks for reading! I had to do quite a research for Irish, English, American Christmas traditions since I'm rather unfamiliar with all of them. I hope that I didn't depart from the truth but forgive me if there are any inaccuracies ;)
Links to the websites that I used as my sources are to find on my author's profile. Check them if interested!