This is for Mosteyn as part of the Secret Santa Exchange. I hope it is still Christmas in your part of the world. Wishing you and yours, as well as all the S/T fans a very Merry Christmas – or as we say it in my part of the world Mele Kalikimaka!
Looking at his wife and their daughter sitting contently on her lap, he couldn't concentrate on what the priest was saying. Even though it was now past midnight, almost seven month old Emma Claire was wide awake with her big blue eyes wandering around the small chapel taking in the sight of the glowing candles, the ornate altar, the tall gold cross that hung from the ceiling over the altar.
This isn't how this year should have ended he thought, not here celebrating midnight mass on Christmas Eve in the small Catholic church in Ripon. They should have been in his childhood church surrounded by his family and friends and neighbors he had known all his life not in this church where he recognized only a few faces from past Sunday services but no one that he could call a friend.
But he couldn't dwell on that, what was done was done and he couldn't change the past. Looking at Sybil and Emma he realized he had much to be thankful for. Especially for Sybil, she had never waivered in her love and support despite what he had done, what he had cost them.
As if she knew his eyes were on her, Sybil looked over at him, her face breaking into a smile as she reached for his hand. Everyone stood as the first notes of Silent Night played softly in the silent chapel. And it was at that moment, that little Emma Claire who had been surprisingly quiet during the service, let out a squeal that caused even the pianist to pause.
It was a beautiful night with just a sliver of a moon but so many stars shining brightly, the air crisp but surprisingly not bone chilling cold as one could expect in late December. Tom had forgotten how much brighter the stars were in Yorkshire, how without the haze of industrial factories spewing heaven knows what into the air or even all the lights of a large city such as Dublin there was nothing to block the view of the sky.
"Do you think we can see Orion's belt?" Tom asked as he pulled the car to the side of the road. He opened Sybil's door and took his sleeping daughter in his arms. With his daughter in his arms, Sybil snuggled up against his chest, the couple leaned back against the car and stared up at the sky.
"There … there …" Sybil pointed at the sky.
It was late Christmas night 1917, Tom had retired to his cottage. He had taken the last of his passengers, old lady Grantham, home almost an hour ago. He wasn't sure if the festivities were still ongoing in the servants hall but he hadn't returned there instead preferring to retire to his cottage where he could remove his jacket and tie, loosen his shirt collar, making himself more comfortable while he sat by the stove that warmed the small sitting room and opened his presents from his family.
He was scanning through the book one of his sisters had sent when there was an unexpected knock on his door. He was tempted to ignore the knock, after all it was late Christmas night, but realizing it was his lot in life as a servant to be on call at all hours he grudgingly opened the door.
He blinked his eyes several times just to make sure he wasn't imagining the sight before him. Wrapped in a warm dark blue cloak, it's hood covering her hair, her face lit up with a smile, Sybil looked even more beautiful than usual.
"Merry Christmas Tom" she spoke in that husky voice that Tom thought he could never tire of listening to. He had seen her earlier in the day when her family distributed their gifts to the servants but surrounded by her family and the other servants there had been no words spoken between them only surreptitious glances.
"Merry Christmas Sybil" he replied as he stood aside to let her enter the cottage but she shook her head slightly.
"I thought we should take advantage of the beautiful night" she said as she lifted a basket she held in her right hand. "It's not really that cold out."
A few minutes later the pair were sitting side by side atop a hay bale that Sybil had covered with a blanket, another blanket covered their laps and legs while a third one was wrapped around their shoulders causing them to sit so close together. Her basket had held some of the remains of the family's Christmas meal, food far more luxurious than that served in the servants hall, along with two bottles of cider.
After finishing their midnight snack they leaned back against the barn wall and looked up at the sky bright with twinkling stars. Tom had never seen so many stars until he came to Downton. Sybil pointed out the stars in Orion's belt as well as Sirius, Castor, and Pollux. While Tom may have had more knowledge in history and politics, Sybil always amazed him with her knowledge of the stars as well as the mythical gods and goddesses of the ancient worlds.
As he sat beside Sybil, looking up at the stars, Tom unthinkingly reached for her hand. Although both were wearing warm gloves he swore he could feel the heat from her hand. Tom thought he never wanted this night to end.
Christmas morning came too early. Although the sun hadn't yet quite broken through the horizon, Emma decided she was ready to face the day, her cries awakening her parents.
"Do you think if we ignore her she'll go back to sleep?" a groggy Tom asked Sybil as he snuggled closer to his wife in their warm cozy bed.
In way of answering her husband, Sybil rolled her eyes. "And how often has that worked?"
Some mornings they would put Emma in their bed with them and she would fall back to sleep but not this morning. She insisted on sitting up, emitting deep laughs as she played with her parent's hair or touched their noses, ears or lips, anything rather than falling back to sleep.
On mornings like this Tom sometimes wished he and Sybil had conceded to her mother and let Emma sleep in the nursery with a nanny watching over her. But it was only a fleeting thought, one more of the desire to sleep uninterrupted or on a couple of occasions to finish what he and Sybil had started before being loudly interrupted by their daughter's cries.
It was early enough that Sybil thought the rest of her family would still be in bed so she and Tom with Emma in tow, still dressed in their pajamas, retreated to the library for breakfast where they could look at the Christmas tree and pretend if only for just a little while that they were alone in their own home.
One of the things Sybil had come to love most during her time in Ireland was the relaxed atmosphere of her home with Tom. She smiled as she recalled those lazy Saturday mornings when Tom would bring her breakfast in bed, just like at Downton milady he'd laugh, but those mornings would end with very un-Downton like behavior or those evenings when after a long day at work they'd sit in their pajamas on the sofa and eat dinner.
Sybil had always enjoyed Christmas, she loved Downton's great hall decked out in garlands and boughs of holly, the huge Christmas tree that dominated the room, the more intimate tree in the library where the family celebrated in privacy as they opened presents, ate their lunch and later played the game, and of course there was the food especially Mrs. Patmore's Christmas pudding.
But this Christmas was different from those of her past for this year she was no longer Lady Sybil Crawley but Mrs. Tom Branson and she was in Ireland. After attending midnight mass with Tom's family, they had returned to their small flat and made love, that unhurried kind that slowly ignited every part of her body until she was left breathless.
The morning was spent leisurely with Sybil dressed in only her silk dressing gown and Tom in his pajama bottoms, at times sitting on the sofa at other times lying on the rug in front of the sofa but always the two of them touching or holding each other. They made love, they talked, they drank tea, they ate breakfast all the while in their small parlor, the curtains pulled tight across the windows so it was the lights of their meager Christmas tree and the fire in the fireplace that gave a warm glow to the room.
Although they had agreed not to spend what little extra money they had on presents for each other, instead saving it for all the things they'd need for the baby who would enter their lives in the early summer, both couldn't resist buying a small gift for the other. Tom gave Sybil a beautiful glass Christmas ornament, the start of a tradition he said as she hung the sole ornament on their rather scraggly tree.
They talked of their lives, their hopes and dreams and Sybil thought she had never had a better Christmas.
Tom took Emma into the library while Sybil went into the dining room for their breakfast.
"Merry Christmas Carson" Sybil cheerily greeted the butler whose face could not conceal his surprise at seeing Lady Sybil in her dressing gown in the dining room. It took him a minute before he could gain his composure and return her greeting.
Sybil couldn't help but smile at the old butler whose world was constantly being upended these days by her unorthodox behavior. "I'm going to take our breakfast into the library Carson."
For an hour Sybil and Tom sat on the floor with Emma, eating their breakfasts and watching Emma play. They giggled as Emma took her first tries at crawling, her little bum wiggling in the air as she rocked back and forth on her hands and knees.
It was times like this that they could pretend they were just a family of three enjoying time together in their own home. But this illusion was shattered when Robert thundered into the library. He thought it looked even worse than Carson had described. Sybil at least showed some decorum and had on a dressing gown but Tom … the man had on a top of some kind that outlined his broad shoulders and clung to his chest, clearly he wasn't wearing what Robert considered proper night wear. Even worst was that his daughter's hand was under that shirt running up and down his back.
"Sybil what is the meaning of this?"
"Merry Christmas Papa" Sybil cheerily responded totally ignoring her father's question and, more importantly, his tone.
"But you're in …" Robert couldn't finish his sentence since at that moment Emma took her first crawls towards him. Reaching him, she sat back on her bum, grabbed ahold of his pants, and looked up at him with a broad toothless smile that lit up her face.
Looking down at his first grandchild, Robert beamed, all thoughts of the impropriety of his daughter and her husband sitting on the floor of the library dressed in their night clothes and eating breakfast suddenly vanished.
Emma had lifted both her arms towards her grandfather, her fingers wiggling, her desire to be picked up so evident and happily satisfied by her grandfather.
Watching the scene, Tom chuckled quietly as he saw his daughter charm her grandfather, like mother like daughter he thought, and in these moments he could see the father Sybil loved.
Christmas day progressed as it always did at Downton, the same traditions adhered to year after year with the only surprise occurring during the opening of gifts. They thought all presents had been opened when Edith spied a large box sitting almost hidden behind the tree. Noting that the gift tag said To Emma Claire From Father Christmas she handed it to Tom who was holding Emma.
Too big to hold in his hands while also balancing Emma on his lap, Tom put the box on the floor along with Emma who had happily mastered the art of tearing the colorful paper that had been so carefully wrapped around the many presents whether they were hers or not.
"What could be possibly be in such a large box?" Sybil asked aloud to no one in particular.
Everyone was now watching as Tom and Emma finished upwrapping the box.
"What!" Tom exclaimed as he read the label on the box Marklin. "It can't possibly be!"
But to Tom's surprise as well as everyone else in the room the box indeed held a Marklin model train set. There were ohs and ahs as Tom lifted a locomotive, two passenger cars, and a baggage car as well as what looked like quite a bit of track from the box. He took his time lifting each piece out of the box as if he was handling some very fine china while Emma seemed content to play with the brightly colored wrapping paper. To his delight the box also held a railway station, a church, and two stores.
It was just before Christmas 1915 and Sybil had finally decided to do some Christmas shopping in Ripon. Sybil returned to the car expecting Branson to be waiting for her probably reading a newspaper so she was surprised the car was empty. Looking up and down the street she finally spied him standing in front of a shop looking quite intently at whatever was displayed in the festive window.
Approaching the shop Sybil noticed it was a toy store and the object of Branson's interest was a model train set. This set had an engine and five cars that moved over track set in a forest, passing over a small bridge before arriving at a railway station and then moving through the small village back to the forest.
"Thinking of changing careers?" she asked cheerily but Tom was so engrossed in watching the train maneuver through its route that he didn't respond.
It wasn't until Sybil touched his arm that Tom became aware of her presence.
"This set is amazing. Just look at the detail on those cars. And the village buildings" Tom sounded like an excited ten year old boy.
"I always wanted a model train set" he stated. "In the weeks before Christmas I'd always go to the shops and watch the train displays."
Then he looked at her wistfully, a look that broke her heart. "I knew Father Christmas could never bring me such a gift but I always secretly hoped for one."
She had become so use to talking to him, to his friendship, that it was only at times like this that she was reminded of the differences in their lives.
"Who?" Tom asked as he looked around the room before settling his eyes on Robert.
"It wasn't me Tom" Robert answered. "I assure you I wouldn't have thought of such a gift for Emma. Don't you think she's a little young for such a present?"
"Well Papa I'm surprised you didn't say it's inappropriate for a girl" Mary spoke up.
No one would confess to buying the train set and all seemed astonished at the generous gift.
"Well whoever it was we just want to thank them properly" Sybil stated.
"Aye" Tom added. "It's a wonderful present. Just imagine this next year under the tree. Or maybe I could build a platform and …"
"We could set it up in a playroom" Matthew added as he sat down on the floor next to Tom and picked up the locomotive. He and Tom began talking about the fine detailing of each car.
"Just remember the tag did say it was for Emma" Mary quipped.
Hours later when Matthew saw Sybil sitting quietly in the corner of the drawing room he whispered to her "I take it the train set was the reason you asked me to sell your pearl ring when I went to London last month."
Sybil blushed deeply but in an imitation of her sister Mary murmured "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't worry" Matthew looked lovingly at his sister-in-law. "I'll never tell anyone not even Mary."
The day had been a long one for Tom and Sybil and they retired to their bedroom with Emma. But Emma, who had slept off and on throughout the day, had no desire to go to bed. She kept gurgling and babbling keeping Tom and Sybil awake.
"I'll walk her around maybe that will make her sleep" Tom offered.
Of course he was drawn back to the library and the model train set which he and Matthew had set up so it would go around on the track under the Christmas tree.
Tom was surprised the lights on the tree were still lit. Those lights cast a warm glow in the area around the tree while much of the large room was cloaked in darkness.
"This is my favorite room in the house" Tom gently spoke to his daughter. "Just look at all the books in here."
He stood in front of one of the floor to ceiling bookcases. "Just think of all the knowledge and wisdom that's at our fingertips" he spoke as he brushed his fingers along the spines of a shelf of books. "Someday you'll be able to read them my love and you'll find a world so big and so full of wonder."
But it wasn't the books that now interested Emma for she kept looking over her father's shoulder to the Christmas tree.
"Aye love. I know what you want."
After turning on the model train set, Tom sat on the floor with Emma sitting on his lap. She cooed and clapped her hands when the train passed them causing Tom to laugh.
"Next year I'll buy another car and each year for Christmas I'll buy one and a building and by the time you're ten we'll have a full village maybe we'll even have some of those little motor cars for the village road and a full forest."
"I thought I'd find you here" Sybil gently murmured as she sat beside her husband, her hand immediately going under his night shirt and rubbing his back.
At the sound of her mother's voice, Emma reached out to Sybil wanting her to hold her.
Sybil chuckled as she lifted her daughter onto her lap. "I think Daddy is enjoying your present more than you little one."
"Well it is a wonderful gift. You really don't know who bought it?"
Sybil just shook her head.
"I think it had to be your father … your mother"
"It wasn't me" came an unexpected voice causing both Sybil and Tom to suddenly turn around.
Robert emerged from a chair cloaked in the darkness. "I was just sipping my brandy and enjoying the tree lights, savoring the day, when you came in Tom."
Tom automatically stood up as Robert walked towards them. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I didn't realize you were here."
Now standing in the glow of the lights, Robert continued "I should have made my presence known but I thought …" he paused as if unsure what to say.
"I … well … I ought to go along to bed now. It's been a wonderful day hasn't it?"
"Yes Papa" Sybil agreed.
As Robert reached the library's door he turned back to look at them. He thought Sybil had never looked more beautiful. Motherhood really suited her. Although he hadn't approved her choice of husband he couldn't deny that she seemed happy. And after watching and listening to Tom with Emma tonight in the library he thought he needed to give the lad a chance. "Remember to turn off the tree lights when you leave."
"Of course Papa"
"Goodnight then."
Robert stepped through the door way and then quickly stepped back into the library. "Oh Sybil … it was fine for Christmas … but … but I hope you're not planning on making it a habit to wear your nightclothes to breakfast."