"Wake up, little sleepyhead," Thomas sat up on Emma's bed. The little girl curled up into a new sleeping position. Thomas sighed. It wasn't his idea that the child should be present during the staff's meal times. Otherwise, Emma wouldn't get breakfast. It was a rule set by Carson.
"Emma," Thomas urged. He was already dressed, but he still needed to dress the child for the day. Thomas ran his hand over her head before laying his flat hand on her narrow forehead. Emma was burning up. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes. He couldn't deal with a sick child right now. Emma only stirred slowly. She stared at her father with her big blue eyes.
Thomas sighed again. He had a true weakness when Emma looked at him with those puppy eyes,
"I think we'd better spend today in bed, huh?" Thomas reached for the blanket that Emma kicks off every night with her feet. He covered the blanket over Emma's small body again, "Rest, okay? Daddy will be right back," he said, before hastily leaving the room. He first looked for Mrs. Hughes. Although the housekeeper was not thrilled about the sick child, she showed understanding. Mr. Carson, however, still demanded that Thomas should serve at lunch and dinner, but he was initially exempt from his other duties.
Back in the bedroom, he brought the child a healing sage tea and a buttered bread. Emma immediately grabbed the cup. Thomas quickly responded and helped the little girl hold the cup correctly. Thomas was fascinated to see that Emma didn't actually need his help. She gripped the cup with both hands. A new milestone was reached.
"Look what Daddy bought you," Thomas showed a new picture book. On his last half day off, Thomas strolled through the village and stopped at the bookstore. Originally, he wanted to give her the book much later, but now that the child was sick and bored in bed, it was the perfect time for a new gift.
"This is a picture book with short stories about farm animals," he explained, showing her the book cover. Emma smiled with enthusiasm. And so, Thomas lay down in bed with her. Emma cuddled up to her father. Thomas opened the first page, where a dog and a cat were pictured.
"Woof," Emma mimicked and pointed at the dog.
"Do you know how the cat goes?"
"Woof woof," Emma grinned.
"Meow," said Thomas, causing Emma to giggle.
"Oh, you find that funny?" With his free hand, he tickled his daughter's belly. Emma couldn't stop laughing, "D-dad-dy," she laughed, followed by a barking cough. Thomas stopped, realizing for a moment that he had forgotten why he was with his child. Emma needed rest now.
"Take a sip," Thomas instructed as he carefully brought the cup to her lips. After all, Emma was still clutching her chest painfully with both hands.
He spent the rest of the day reading and showing her the new picture book. On day three, the fever suddenly disappeared, and a small rash appeared on her neck. And so, Mrs. Hughes' suspicion of a harmless three-day fever was confirmed.
Two weeks later, Thomas sat thoughtfully on the stairs.
"What's the matter with you?" O'Brien wondered.
"Nothing," he spoke quietly.
"I hear his Lordship blames Mr. Napier for spreading rumors about Lady Mary, but it was you, wasn't it?"
"Why would you say something like that?" Thomas jumped up from the step. O'Brien took the first step down when she saw the looks of her partner in crime. Thomas looked up the stairs, where the toddler was slowly crawling down the steps.
O'Brien decided against continuing her descent, Thomas probably wouldn't follow anyway, so she changed the subject, "Since when can she walk up and down stairs?"
Thomas turned back to his daughter for a brief moment, "I wouldn't necessarily call it walking, but she insisted on not wanting to be carried," he chuckled.
"She's made tremendous progress in the last few weeks," the maid observed. The girl began mimicking everything and everyone, wanting to walk whenever she could, and even beginning to dislike the baby food, which is why Mrs. Patmore began cooking regular child-friendly meals.
"She's almost 18 months now," Thomas shrugged. Although Mrs. Hughes suggested he read some parenting books about the first few years with a child, Thomas saw it as a waste of money. After all, for centuries, child-rearing had been possible without books.
Emma finally reached the adults, looking at them with her big blue eyes. "Do you want me to carry you, little dwarf?" Thomas asked. "No no," shaking her head, Emma turned around before the next flight of stairs. She crawled backwards with her legs first down the next steps.
"You must have a lot of free time now," O'Brien remarked.
"She's getting faster, isn't she?" Thomas said optimistically.
"At any rate, Napier has no idea. Only four people know he was in her room: you, me, Lady Mary, and possibly Daisy, and I haven't said anything to anyone," and continued her descent. Thomas had no choice but to lift the little girl now and follow the maid.
"I didn't reveal anything, I just wrote that Lady Mary's morals were questionable."
"To whom did you write this?"
"To an old friend. A footman for Lord Savident", Thomas explained.
"You know what they say about old Savident. Not quite right in the head, but very chatty."
"You won't betray me, will you? I have enough trouble already." Emma, who had until then been peacefully resting in her father's arms, began to fidget with her legs. She tried to push herself away from Thomas with her arms because she wanted to walk herself and not be carried.
"What happened? Why are you upset?", O'Brien asked.
"Mister Bates saw me steal a bottle of wine," the rest of the conversation was drowned out by Emma's crying.
The little girl only calmed down when Thomas set her on the ground. Emma stood up and hurried after Thomas, like a little duckling following its mother. But then there was the next staircase. The staircase that ended directly in the hallway of the basement, in front of the servants hall.
"Daddy!" Emma cried desperately, "Daddy!" She didn't even attempt to crawl to climb the steep staircase. Now she stood there, unable to move forward or backward. Her feet were on different steps, causing her to slowly lose her balance. But before Emma could tumble headfirst down the stairs, William - the second footman - caught her safely.
"Don't worry, Emmi," William spoke gently. "I'll help you," and he reached for Emma's small hand. Step by step, they slowly descended the stairs together. "The steps are still a bit too big for you, huh?"
"Uh-huh," nodded Emma in agreement as if she had understood the question.
"Where should I take you? Mrs. Patmore, Daisy, Mrs. Hughes, or do you want to go to Thomas?"
"Daddy."
"Thomas," William nodded in agreement. He still held Emma's hand as they set off to find the first footman.
Sitting on her father's lap, Emma played with a wooden puzzle. The farm animals need to be put back in their right places. Emma held the cat in her hand, trying to position the puzzle piece in the small indentations, but the cat just wouldn't fit.
"O'Brien," Thomas reprimanded.
"Ohbyn," she mimicked her father.
The maid sighed and put the cigarette back in the box, "Since when am I not allowed to smoke here?"
"Dr. Clarkson said at the last children's check-up that cigarette smoke is unhealthy for her development," Thomas explained.
It was clear that the maid was considering discussing the doctor's advice with Thomas, but she only nodded slightly in the end. The order from Dr. Clarkson didn't please the footman himself, who desperately longed for a cigarette, but William parked Emma on his lap. Thomas ran his hand over his child's dark brown hair.
"No fit," Emma turned to her father for help. Thomas just handed the child a new puzzle piece - a horse. Emma placed the big horse in front of the smallest shape, trying to push it in there.
"No fit," she said disappointedly. Thomas gently took hold of Emma's wrist, guiding the little hand to the correct shape.
"It fits," Emma marvelled and immediately reached for the next puzzle piece, the cat.
"Mister Carson," Anna called. The maid sat opposite them.
"Carson," Emma joyfully echoed.
"We've been thinking about the snuffbox," Anna continued.
"Snuff-oh," Emma grinned.
"Has it turned up yet?" she asked.
"I'm afraid not," the butler explained.
"No," Emma repeated Carson's words. The butler grumbled to himself. The phase the child was currently going through was much too exhausting for his taste.
"I think we should conduct a search."
"What?" Thomas asked perplexed, looking at Bates sternly.
"Search," Emma babbled.
"You can't put something like that off," Anna insisted.
"Mister Carson can search the men's rooms and Mrs. Hughes the women's. And as soon as possible," "soon," Emma mimicked, "so that nobody can hide the box," Anna concluded her proposal.
"Yes, hide!" Emma grinned excitedly.
"Don't you think so too, Mr. Carson?" Anna asked.
"Well, perhaps it's best, although I'm sure I won't find anything. I'll fetch Mrs. Hughes."
With a jerk, Thomas picked up the child and simply placed Emma on the table before hurrying up the stairs, closely followed by O'Brien.
"Ohoh," Emma commented. Immediately, Anna and Bates burst out laughing. Emma laughed with them, even though she didn't really understand what was going on.
"Cat," she now pointed to her puzzle piece and then to her puzzle board, "Fit no."
"Try it here," Bates suggested, pointing to a matching shape.
"I'm not a fan of Thomas, but his child is quite cute," Bates chuckled, "I never took him for a ladies' man, but apparently I was wrong."
"She's a foundling," Anna explained quietly, "Thomas found her outside the back door and he kept her."
"Thomas?" Bates raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I thought he had no heart."
"You can see how he takes care of her," she said a little sadly, "only the bare minimum," she added quietly.
Emma's first big walk. Although still a little unsteady on her feet, she walked ahead. Since she learned to move around without help, nothing in the world was safe from her. She started the exploration tour with great joy because at home she had bumped her head on table edges many times, but there were no hard corners and edges outside.
"I have no idea why we have to do this," grumbled O'Brien. "I could do without the speeches."
"Don't be so grumpy," Thomas said, annoyed and rolling his eyes. An outing to the village provided a bit of variety in the otherwise rather unspectacular life of a servant.
Emma, who had sprinted quite far ahead, just wanted to look and see if her dad was still there, but she was already on the ground. She had lost her balance while slowing down and turning around. She immediately began to cry. Even though she had caught the fall with her hands, the child was still lying on the gravel. Thomas picked her up abruptly into his arms, "I told you not to let go of my hand, but you don't listen, do you, little dwarf?"
"Ow," she sniffled, showing her hand. The gravel left a painful imprint. Thomas gently took the little hand, placed a kiss on the back of it, "Don't cry, Emma. Everything's okay. Daddy's got you. Falling is part of it. Then you just have to get up again," and put the child back on her own feet. However, Thomas kept the little hand in his hand this time.
Anna, who had just been behind them, suddenly appeared next to Emma and also grabbed the little hand, "On three?" Anna asked, smiling. Thomas nodded. And so, on three, they swung the child into the air. Emma was delighted, "'gain," she laughed.
Because Emma was still quite small and simply couldn't see over the table edge, she stayed in Thomas's arms for the duration of the flower show. Table by table, they looked at the flowers and bouquets. Thomas was incredibly relieved by the child's behavior. He had expected a tantrum, but since the nap had been skipped, the child was incredibly calm and showed her very best, and also calmed, side.