Continued: Yay! It's StiLL Christmas! Upstairs style!

Chapter Fourteen

George carefully took each step down of the grand staircase. Each time his foot connected with the next one below it, he felt a pounding in his head. His back was still sore and he wanted nothing more than to just sleep. But it was Christmas and he was home. Everyone would want a moment of his time to get details, or wish him well. His mother had smuggled him into the house the previous day allowing him to avoid most of the activity of the house and to be undisturbed. He had been so grateful.

He would have much rather just hidden in his room all day and read a book, or slept, but he had been required to attend the early dinner. And then remain jovial for the games of the evening. He sighed deeply as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Barrow was standing at the doorway to the library. He had been expecting George's arrival, Molesley had let him know that the young man was fully dressed and on his way down to join them all in the library before the valet had hurried back off downstairs.

As George approached the Butler he saw the man give him a look that was very much a glare. It disappeared quickly as George walked past him into the festively decorated room. Very nearly his entire family was in there and most of them greeted him warmly as he entered. His mother stood up to give him a kiss on the cheek and she realized again that she had to reach up to do it. He had grown so much in the past few months. It amazed her constantly.

He greeted her warmly and whispered Merry Christmas to her and he was so grateful that he knew she was on his side. She had told him often over the past few days.

His mother followed him as he approached his Grandfather to wish him season greetings. Lord Grantham stood up and shook his hand and commented on how much better he was looking and it was good to see him up and around. And home. George just smiled. He was suddenly conscious of the cuts and bruises that still covered him. His one eye was still mostly blackened, but at least the swelling had gone down.

He turned on his heel to face the opposite sofa to greet his grandmothers who were sitting side by side. Both of them looked very tired. As tired as he felt. He bent over to kiss his Granny Cora.

"My dear. You really are looking so much better. I'm so happy you are here." Her eyes smiled to match her mouth. She meant it.

"Thank you Granny." George wasn't sure what else to say, Cora had that sad look that he minded so much so he turned to his give his other Grandmother a kiss.

As he did, she grabbed both of his hands and held them firmly.

"You really are looking so much better Matthew. Merry Christmas!" She either hadn't noticed the slip of her tongue or she chose to ignore, no one could be sure. Well, there were suspicions. Isobel just smiled at the young man standing before her.

George's eyes flashed to Cora's and he saw her look of concern, but she masked it quickly. She nudged her head toward the elderly woman on her left in a silent gesture of wonder of how he would handle being called by his father's name.

"I'm George Grand-mama..." His blue eyes were locked on hers.

"Oh of course you are, my darling. It just slipped out. I apologize." Isobel looked down to their connected hands and shook her head ever so slightly, as though she was trying to clear her thoughts.

"Come George. Let's say hello to your cousins and your Aunt Edith." Mary took his arm and guided him away from the awkward situation. Cora and her daughter had a conversation about the concerns of Cousin Isobel a few days before and Mary was now keeping a close eye on the elderly woman.

She looked at George to judge his reaction and she knew that he was worried. Poor boy. He had so much to worry about for his young years. He was growing into such a fine man she was proud, but it was a lot for him to worry about. For the first time in years, she was truly aware of her son's feelings. She had let too many years slip by. She had taken too much for granted, but it was time for a change. She couldn't run from the memory of Matthew forever, especially when the most important bit of him held her hand as they approached her sister.

"Hello Aunt Edith. It's very good to see you." George leaned over to kiss her cheek and she turned her head slightly to allow him the honour.

"You as well George. And you remember Antonio of course." Edith smiled slightly as her husband jumped up from his seat.

Antonio kissed George on each cheek and pulled him into a very tight, affectionate hug. George just stood there awkwardly silently begging his mother to help him out. Mary laughed quickly to herself and shoved Antonio ever so gently away from his captive. She had learned it was a good way to get her brother-in-law to release his grip. He tended to be very flamboyant and at times obnoxious, but he had his good traits as well. He had seemingly made Edith happy in the years they had been married. He loved Marigold as his own, and he was a decent man. He could just be a touch overwhelming at times and George had inherited his mother's mannerisms in dealing with the Italian.

George approached the two girls sitting on the couch and smiled at them. Marigold was turning into a young woman. It had been a few years since he had seen them and he knew he had grown a lot in that time as well. The younger of the two girls sat with her feet kicking gently in the air. She wasn't quite tall enough to sit properly, but she grinned up at him. Her toothless smile made him grin warmly at her.

"Hello young cousin Violet! Merry Christmas to you." George looked from her to her older sister, "And hello to you as well Marigold. It's nice to see you."

"I bet. You're lucky. Mama says that Crawley men shouldn't be allowed to drive anymore. I hope you've enjoyed your one chance at it." Marigold laughed. She had always been a bit cold towards George and she had a tendency to say before she thought.

"Marigold, don't be rude." Her mother reprimanded her sternly. "George, it really is very good to see you. You gave us quite the scare."

George didn't answer her but he did stare at her for a moment. He nodded a bit and turned around, suddenly feeling very much like he needed something to drink. His mouth had gone quite dry. He saw Barrow standing by the bowl of punch that was set on one of the tables. He made his way quickly in that direction. As he went, his mother followed him and he heard her say to Edith before they had left earshot,

"You may want to teach your daughter to hold her tongue. Though I know it's something you have never quite mastered." Mary's retort was as acid as she intended and her sister's face expressed her knowledge of her complete lack of tact in what she had said to her daughter.

Barrow poured George a cup and spoke very quietly, so he wasn't overheard speaking so impertinently, as he handed the cup to the younger man.

"It's just punch Master George. Don't think that just because you are apparently old enough to drive, that you are old enough to drink yet."

"This will be just fine. Thank you Barrow." George turned away from him quickly. He had to expect there would be individuals that would be angry with him about the accident. And here he was, getting to spend Christmas at home with his family while the others were still laid up in hospital. No wonder Barrow was being rude to him. And Marigold, but she was always a bit rude to him.

He looked around the room to see where the others were. The ones he hadn't greeted yet.

"Where are the girls?" He turned to ask his mother.

"They're looking at the tree with Tony. They're rather obsessed with it. Let's go see them." Mary was just a bit nervous about her son. He looked terribly pale and she thought he should sit down, but he brushed off her concerns. He said he was fine. She pulled him gently towards the door and as they went, the murmurings of everyone in the room picked up.

George sighed as they exited into the great hall.

"You're going to have to learn to deal with scandal and people's murmurings now. You better get used to it. Trust me."

He stopped to look at his mother. "And what do you know of dealing with scandal?"

"More than you could possibly ever know." She was cut off by the squealing of her two daughters. She would be perfectly alright if her son lived a thousand years and never heard her tale of scandal.

Both girls came barrelling at their older brother, overjoyed that he was finally awake. George knelt down and hugged them both affectionately. Normally he would have picked them up and spun them around or flung them over his shoulder, but he wasn't quite up for that yet. They may have been pre-warned as well, because neither of them asked why.

Tony was not far behind his daughters and he greeted George as well, but with a gentler hug,

The family stood looking at the tree as Elizabeth and Charlotte had to point out to George every single one of their favourite decorations hanging on the tree. He laughed each time at their youthful exuberance at the season. They were a breath of fresh air after all the tension that had been occurring. His mother dared to come up beside him as they stood there and wrap her arm around his waist. He leaned into her.

"Merry Christmas George." She saw him smile but he kept looking at the tree.

Barrow approached them after a time and let them know that dinner was being served in the dining room and he waited while they gathered themselves and made their way into the room where a brilliant table was laid out for their dinner. Mary commented to Tony how beautiful the room looked and he smiled at her. She spoke often to him about the happy times at Grantham, especially when she was a child and Christmas was always been such an elaborate affair. It had been too long since everyone had been together for the holidays. They all had their separate lives now and was hard to coordinate the plans. Mary had been so excited to hear that Tom and Sybbie would be visiting this year. She missed them terribly and Sybbie was growing up too fast. She wished more than anything Sybbie could have been there to see the table. She would surely have appreciated the grandeur of it. But she was not there. And neither was Tom.

She would gladly bear Edith for the chance of that warm feeling of family that she remembered. She was hoping dinner would go smoothly and that George would hold his own against the family. He would do well enough. She was sure of that.

They all sat to dinner and service went accordingly for the first number of courses. The conversation leaned towards the past, and all the good times that the family had experienced. It was Cora who steered the conversation away from the accident every time it was close to being mentioned.

Marigold was sitting directly across the table from George and on more than one occasion he caught her generally glaring in his direction. He noticed it, but truthfully it wasn't bothering him because his head was pounding so badly he was wondering if he would make it through dinner.

Mary, who was sitting at the end of the table watched the exchange between the two. She could clearly see both of them through the flower arrangements down the centre. Isobel was sitting between George and Mary but the elderly woman ate quietly and didn't pay much attention to anyone. Every once in awhile she would look sideways at George and a sad smile would arrive shortly after. Mary watched her while making sure Elizabeth minded her manners at her first chance to sit at the family table for dinner. She was doing lovely Mary thought to herself. She was proud of both of her daughters. They were wonderful children. They had so much of their father in them as well as her son did.

Mary was watching George so closely that she didn't even care that he was beginning to notice her stares. It seemed that somehow in the last few minutes the circles under his eyes had gotten darker and he appeared to be so much paler. She was wondering how soon before she would excuse him politely and take him back to bed. She was watching his face closely at one point and she saw, literally, the last bit of colour drain from it and George turned quickly to his side and quietly vomited all over Barrow's legs. Mary looked quickly at Marigold, as that was the direction George had been looking before he keeled over and she saw as Marigold was holding a piece of very rare roast beef on her fork and was letting the red juices drip of it onto her plate. The site of it had made George sick to his stomach.

Barrow looked absolutely horrified as he just stood there and stared at his trousers. George sat with his head in his hands and both Mary and Isobel came to his side.

"Come, let's go back upstairs. You must be exhausted." Mary said it to her son, but she glared at Marigold across the table who was cutting the meat on her plate and looked down completely innocently. Mary ignored her after that. They would have words later.

George was able to stand up of his own accord and he quickly put his napkin over the sick on the floor and Barrow stepped back and glared venom at the young Crawley man. Mary wrapped her arms around her son and whispered back to Barrow to have one the maids come to take care of that right away. She was certain the Butler wasn't going to clean it up himself. Mary wasn't really feeling sorry for the man who had caused a great deal of grief in his time at the Abbey that she was sure he deserved it as some sort of comeuppance.

She and George quickly and quietly left the dining room while brushing off any questions if George was quite alright. The murmuring began again as they left the room. Poor George. They went upstairs and Mary guided him away from his normal room and in the direction of the room she had occupied all the years that the Abbey had been her home. Once she married Tony, she and he stayed in a different room as the one she currently guided them towards held too many memories.

But today, she wanted those memories for some reason. She wanted to tell George all about his father and she knew the green walled room would be the place. And George would be able to get a proper rest because no one would come looking for him there. Mary was sure his Grandmothers would be up in no time after dinner was finished to check on his welfare. She just wanted him to rest.

He gratefully let his mother remove his jacket and most of the tight restrictive formal clothing and he crawled into the bed. Mary saw the fire was set up and she took only a few moments to get it going. There was a chill in the air. The room hadn't been lit in some time. She sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her son for awhile. His tense face relaxed eventually and she watched as he totally relaxed and he fell asleep.

The memories flooded her as she watched her son sleep on the same bed that she had spent so many nights watching his father sleep. Not enough nights frankly she thought to herself as she stood up to stoke the fire. It didn't take long before the room was comfortable and warm. She looked back to her son. The poor boy. She wished everyone would realize that he was just protecting Sybbie, but she also hated that thought because then everyone would turn their anger to Sybbie once they found out she had been driving. Perhaps not. Perhaps if the truth came out, everyone would have expressed their anger already and the situation would just blow over. Most of the initial emotions would be gone, and everyone would have a reasonable mind about it. She had so much speculation.

Mary sat by the old dressing table and rummaged over the belongings on it. It was as though time had not touched it while she had been gone. The old small stuffed dog still sat leaned up against the mirror and Mary smiled as she picked it up. The site of it no longer crushed her soul like it used to. It didn't make her so sad anymore but it did send a heap of memories in her direction. She walked back over to her son and tucked it into his hand while he slept. She watched him quietly as the clock chimed from one hour to the next.

He stirred a tiny bit, but remained asleep. Mary thought she would dare to head back downstairs to get a glass of water for her son and perhaps a cold cloth for his head. And she should probably inform her mother and father that their heir was not on death's door as well. He just needed to rest. Only his mother knew how much stress he had taken on his shoulders.

As Mary took the final step off of the grand stairs she looked up to see Tom Branson and the look on his face devastated her. His eyes were swollen and his face looked like the world had collapsed. Mary stopped and put her hand over her mouth as Tom approached. She suddenly feared the very worst had happened. Sybbie.

"Oh dear God Tom, it's not..." Mary wasn't sure if she was prepared to handle the news that her niece was gone.

"Mary. I...just... no actually, I came back to tell everyone that Sybbie has woken up. I really think she might be alright. But then... downstairs...Oh Mary... I need to talk to you..."

"What on Earth is going on Tom? You're scaring me."

"Can we talk? Somewhere private?"

To be continued: Next Chapter... Tom and Mary discuss the situation... and Mary meets Lily...