I ought to thank Weeredfrenchie for pointing out to me I didn't list the characters of the story! I fixed it now: thanks for the heads up!

...

Christmas at Loxley had been a quiet affair for many years, Edith knew. More than quiet, actually: nonexistent. After Maud's death, Anthony had stopped celebrating it altogether. He usually avoided being home during the holidays: he stayed in his apartment in London from early December to late January, spending long hours at his gentlemen's club, drinking sherry and playing cards with other lonely members of the English aristocracy.

"Christmas is a family celebration: when you have no family, it can be quite a lonely time of year" he had told her, with an apologetic smile.

"But you have a family now." He had been lonesome for too long, and Edith was determined to change that.

His face had twitched into a smile at those words. "Yes, I believe I do."

"And we are going to celebrate Christmas this year." she smiled, but her voice was firm. "That's all there is to it."

…

Edith loved Christmastime: back at Downton Abbey, Christmas was a grand affair: they always put up a colossal pine tree - heavy with sparkling ornaments – in the great hall; they had garlands and tinsel, holly and mistletoe decorating the stairs and the halls; the scent of pine resin and Mrs Patmore's gingerbread biscuits filled the air.

The Crawleys threw lavish parties, played bridge games and charades, exchanged gift, played music, danced. Sometimes, they hired a small orchestra to play for them, but often Edith, the only one of the Crawley sisters who could play the piano decently (Mary never bothered to learn how to read music, and Sybil was much more skilled at drawing or embroidering), played festive songs in the drawing room, while her parents and her sisters sang. Their voices rang high and clear and silvery within the walls of her childhood home. Deck the Hall, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, O Holy Night; all of the good, old carols, conjuring images of peace and happiness.

About a week before Chistmas, Anthony had to go up to London to some public dinner - something to do with the county. He was supposed to be away for a few days, and Edith was left alone at Loxley to deal with the preparations for the Christmas Eve dinner party. Her parents, Granny, Mary and Matthew were supposed to come over, to exchange presents and see how the house renovation process was going; Tom and Sybil were going to bring the baby girl over, too - assuming Sybil was well enough and felt like traveling (the birth had been a difficult one, and had left the younger Crawley girl quite weak). Edith had asked Cousin Isabel to join them, too. She was part of the family, now; beyond that, she had always been very kind to Edith, and she and Anthony seemed to get along quite well.

Edith wanted to surprise them with a grand celebration, show everyone how good of a hostess she could be. But above all, she wanted Anthony to feel like he had a family to come back to and celebrate with - and a house that was no longer quiet, bare and empty, but brightly lit, warm and joyful.

…

"Oh, Stewart, I was just looking for you." Edith strolled down the corridor to meet the elderly butler.

"M'lady?" he respectfully bowed his head.

"I need you to help me with something. I'd like the sofa in the library to be removed, and the armchairs to be pushed against the wall, out of the way. Do you think you can arrange that?"

"… Remove the sofa, M'lady?" the old man blinked, baffled. "W-what for?"

"Because we shall have a big Christmas tree standing in the middle of the room, in front of the fireplace."

"A – a tree, M'lady?" he stared at her as if she had suddenly grown a third eye. "In the library?"

Edith stared back at him. "Goodness, I didn't expect it to be such a shocking notion" she said, and she smiled. "It's Christmas. Why wouldn't we have a tree?"

"M'lady, it's just that… we haven't had one in years." He looked puzzled. "And, M'lady, forgive me for saying so, but we always put up the Christmas tree in the hall, not the library, when the master still -" he stopped abruptly; he recovered gracefully by saying "… when the master entertained for the holidays." but Edith knew what he was about to say: when Anthony still cared about Christmas. "But nowadays the master is rarely home for Christmastime."

"I know." Edith nodded and sighed. "Anthony told me he usually goes up to his London house. But I want this to change: I want to make Loxley the most festive house in all of Yorkshire." She smiled. "And another thing I want to change is the place we put up the tree. I decided it's going to be in the library, because it's the room Anthony and I like most."

He still looked perplexed. "Very well, M'lady" he said dubiously.

"Then it's settled." Edith smiled. "Where can I find all of the Christmas ornaments to decorate the tree?"

Stewart stared at her, confused. "Oh… oh, dear, M'lady… I'm not sure. It's been years since the last time they have been used."

"But surely there must be something left – from the time you did." Edith smiled again, encouragingly.

"Well…" he frowned, as if he found it hard to remember. "The late Lady Strallan used crystal baubles and ornaments she had brought back from Germany – very delicate little things, they were, M'lady. She used to wrap them in cotton cloth and store them into boxes at the end of the holidays, but I'm afraid most of them have been lost or broken during the years."

"Oh, what a pity!" Edith's smile faded.

"But…" the elderly man knitted his eyebrows. "If I remember correctly, M'lady, there must be a couple of large trunks, up in the attic, where we stored the decorations from the time the master and Miss Eleanor – I mean, Mrs Chetwood – were children." Stewart was an old servant, and had known Anthony and his sister when they were kids: he sometimes still called Mrs Chetwood by her given name, rather than her married name. He also sometimes called Anthony "Master Anthony" instead of "Sir Anthony", because he had known him long before he inherited the title.

Edith livened up again. "Splendid! Can we have them brought into the library?"

"Of course, M'lady… if you wish. But they are quite old, I'm afraid."

"I'm sure we can make something out of them. I'll add ribbons, and tinsel, and… oh, and lights. We must buy electric string lights like the ones we have at Downton. They look lovely, and it's much safer than having candles burning so close to the books."

…

She had requested the gardener to cut branches of greenery (cypress, holly, fir) and prepare large wreaths and garlands to decorate the stairs, halls, and the front door: now jolly green festoons draped the banisters and hanged from doorways and fireplace mantles.

She had also asked him to venture into the woods with a few workers to find an adequately sized pine tree, cut it down and bring it back to the house. The men had come back with a huge tree in the back of one of Loxley's trucks, and they had placed it – huffing and puffing - into the large library.

"Will it do, M'lady?" Barnes, the gardener, asked, with his hands on his hips and a smile on his face, when the tree finally stood in all of its green glory in the center of the room. It was over ten feet tall and rather large: the scent of its resin filled the place.

"I'm sure it will" Edith smiled back. "It looks absolutely magnificent. Thank you, Barnes."

The man nodded and smiled again. "It's been a while since the last time I've been asked to bring a Christmas tree into the house. It warms one's heart, really, to see Loxley all decked and festive again… if you don't mind me saying so, M'lady."

Edith's smile widened. "I don't mind at all." It was the first time someone expressed appreciation for what she was doing, instead of looking down at her. "Oh, and Barnes - you did a great job with the wreaths: they look lovely."

"Thank you, M'lady." He nodded again, smiled and tipped his hat. "I'd better go put the truck back into the garage, now."

"Of course."

As he was getting out, Stewart came into the library: he stared at the tree, looking quite impressed.

"Well, Stewart: what do you think of it?"

"It's… very large, M'lady." he said, without committing himself too much. "The valets are bringing the trunks down from the attic" he added. As he was talking, a couple of young men came in, carrying two heavy-looking wooden cases. Under Edith's direction, they put them down under the tree: she felt a surge of excitement rise inside her. She smiled and kneeled down on the carpet to open them, feeling like a child opening a treasure chest. Inside the trunks, she found an array of lovely old trinkets: candle holders, wooden figures, wire wrapped glass baubles, silver bells, paper-mache cherubs, painted clay sculptures. The old tinsel was falling to pieces here and there, but the ornaments were mostly intact, if a bit dusty.

"How lovely!" She whispered, running her fingers over the old, delicate decorations. She picked up a tin star, then a small porcelain angel, a glass snowflake. She laid them on the carpet.

"How old are those?" she asked, without looking up. She kept picking small objects out of the trunks. Painted tin figurines in the shape of pinecones, walnuts, gingerbread houses. A porcelain dove. Wooden animals painted in faded colors.

"Oh, I really couldn't say, M'lady. Some of them must be quite old: the metal ones are from Queen Victoria's time, I believe. Others were purchased when the master and Miss Elean – Mrs Chetwood were children, in the 1870s."

"I see… Oh, look at that! How pretty!" Edith said, holding a brightly colored tin soldier in her hand.

"Sir Anthony's father brought it back from one of his trips to London. It was Sir Anthony's favorite." Stewart said, and there was a note of fondness in his voice.

"Oh? Really?" Edith turned and looked up at him. She knew Stewart had been butler at Loxley since the time Anthony was a child; she had longed to ask him about it, but the elderly man had always looked so formal, so distant…

But now, he seemed ready to open up a bit more; he rocked back and forth on his heels, and a trace of a smile appeared on his lips. "When the master was a boy, he used to dig for it among the other ornaments, put it aside, and keep it for last. He and Mrs Chetwood used to fight over which of the two of them would hang it."

Edith saw he had let off his guard a bit and decided to try and take the opportunity. "What was he like?" she asked, hesitantly. "Anthony. As a boy, I mean."

"The master? Oh, he was such a sweet child. Always so kind to everyone, he was - and bright! Oh, he was a smart lad, Master Anthony" There was unmistakable pride ringing in his voice. "That's why they sent him to Austria and Germany to try and talk some sense in Kaiser Wilhelm's head. He was the right man for the job; it didn't work, in the end, because the Kaiser was a madman, but he was the only one who could have stopped him, if you ask me, M'lady."

Edith smiled. She knew Stewart was devoted to Anthony, but there was an almost fatherly tone in his voice when he spoke of him. It reminded her of the was Carson doted on Mary.

She put the ornaments down and folded her hands in her lap. "I wish I had known him back then." She smiled. "What a darling child he must have been."

"He was, M'lady." This time, Stewart's smile wasn't just a shadow.

"Tell me more about him."