"You're old enough now to help with clearing the table," Carson's voice echoed in her ears. Was her 'puppy protection' really over? Emma looked at the piles of dishes belonging to the servants. She started stacking the plates on top of each other.
"The seriousness of life has begun," O'Brien smirked. Thomas glanced at the maid. An unnecessary comment. Tomorrow, his 6-year-old dwarf would start school. She had been nervous for days, even clingy, because if he knew one thing about his child, it was that she was skeptical of change and had a hard time accepting new daily routines.
"Don't underestimate the weight," he said as he put a cigarette between his lips. Emma looked at him confused. They were just a few plates, cups, and cutlery. They wouldn't weigh much, would they?
"If I were you, I'd rather make multiple trips," her dad added as he exhaled smoke from his lungs.
The girl lightly bit her lip, considering whether she should talk to her not-so-communicative dad, but instead, she just nodded in gratitude for the information. Instead of planning to carry all the plates at once, she decided to safely take four plates in her hands. She would have to make multiple trips, then.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash. The plates shattered into many pieces as the girl lay on the floor. "Be more careful, you stupid brat," Miss O'Brien grinned maliciously. Emma heard her words, but none of the other adults did.
"What happened here!" Mr. Carson yelled angrily. "I told you from the beginning! Having a child among the servants only causes trouble! Look at the plates!"
Emma desperately hoped that the housekeeper, Anna, or even her dad would come to her rescue, but no one came.
"She'd be much better off in an orphanage or a workhouse," O'Brien confirmed the butler's opinion.
"S-s-s... o...rry," the girl sniffled incoherently. Emma was now kneeling on the floor, looking at Carson with big, teary puppy eyes. She must have tripped, but she couldn't see any unevenness or thresholds in the floor.
"Clean it up immediately!" Mister Carson said.
Emma nodded mechanically as Carson disappeared into his office. Carefully, she gathered shard by shard. She didn't want to cut herself, but then it happened once more—a bump. The shard slipped from her hand, leaving a bleeding and painful cut. Reflexively, she reached for her bleeding wound with her uninjured hand. It hurt so much! In the corner of her eye, she saw Miss O'Brien grinning as she went up the stairs.
Barrow observed the spectacle from a safe and hidden distance. With the glowing cigarette between his fingers, he watched the utterly distraught child. Only Daisy came by and helped pick up the remaining shards. Barrow groaned in annoyance and extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray.
"Come on, get up," Barrow said, leading the child back to the now empty servants' hall. He fetched some bandages and examined the fortunately not deep wound on the child's right hand. There were no glass fragments visible in the wound either.
"Dad?" Emma asked, but the dark-haired man didn't look up; instead, he stared fixedly at the small bleeding wound, gently dabbing it with a cloth. "Are you angry at me?"
"I'm angry," he confirmed, "but not at you," he quickly added. Thomas finally looked into his child's face. Sometimes, he really wondered why he had agreed to take on the fatherhood of a child. Back then, he had only taken her in as a guarantee for a secure job at Downton. Lord and Lady Grantham would never turn away a single father and, on top of that, the child left on their doorstep. But now, every time he looked at his child, he felt pure love.
"I'm sorry I tripped."
Thomas sighed, "Never apologize for something you have no control over," he wondered himself where the gentle voice suddenly came from.
"But I tripped."
"Are you sure?" Thomas doubted, surveying the softly sniffing girl. "It's okay. I've broken plates before too. The world doesn't end because of it."
"But Mr. Car..." Before she could finish her sentence, Thomas shook his head. "Don't pay attention to him. Ultimately, it's his fault, isn't it? You're not to blame at all. And I would never be angry at you because of some plates."
Emma looked up at her father, tears still glistening in her eyes. She found solace in his words, feeling a glimmer of hope in the midst of her distress. Thomas's reassurance meant the world to her, "Really?" she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.
"Absolutely," Thomas replied firmly, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "You're my little girl, and accidents happen. Don't let anyone make you feel small or insignificant."
Emma nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her father's words brought a sense of comfort and strength that she desperately needed in that moment. She admired his resilience and unwavering support.
He reached for the alcohol bottle and soaked a new clean cloth in it before gently dabbing it on the small hand wound. "Ouch!" she cried, futilely trying to pull her hand out of her father's firm grip. "The wound needs to be cleaned. Otherwise, it'll get infected," Thomas explained.
"But it hurts," she whimpered. With his thumbs, he wiped away her tears from her cheek. "I know, little dwarf," he gave her a small encouraging smile. Thomas carefully wrapped the bandage around her hand, ensuring it was secure but not too tight.
"You'll be just fine," he assured her, giving her injured hand a gentle squeeze. "And remember, if anyone ever makes you feel less than you are, you come to me. I'll always be here for you."
Emma nodded again, this time with a newfound determination. She felt a surge of gratitude for her father's love and protection. With him by her side, she knew she could face any challenge that came her way.
As they finished tending to her wound, Thomas stood up and extended his hand to help Emma up from the chair. She took it gratefully, feeling a sense of safety enveloping her, "You've done enough for today, my little helper. Now, it's time for a well-deserved rest. So, here's the deal. I'll clear the table, and you get us two lemonades, okay?"
"By the way, I saw it," Thomas said after exhaling the smoke from his cigarette. O'Brien looked at him confused. Obviously, she didn't know what he was referring to. "You pushed the child earlier."
"It was quite amusing to see how incapable the brat stood in front of Carson, unable to produce anything but tears."
"Amusing?" Thomas raised his eyebrow in horror. "I guess we have different perspectives."
"Oh, come on, Thomas, you would have laughed your eyes out with Mr. Bates," O'Brien grinned.
Thomas took a strong drag from his cigarette. Yes, with Mr. Bates, he might have found it funny. But they were talking about a 6-year-old child.
"You haven't really formed a bond with the brat..." O'Brien realized, appalled.
Thomas looked at O'Brien with a contemptuous gaze, slowly exhaling the smoke from his cigarette. "She has a name—Emma Grace," he paused briefly, "And she's my daughter. So, you will treat her properly." Thomas brought the cigarette back to his lips.
"It follows you like a little puppy everywhere, costing unnecessary money. It must bother you—it would bother me if I had to share my life with a naughty brat."
Thomas was about to reply when Emma appeared in the backyard. "Where did you come from?" he wondered. His question was answered by Isis. The loyal dog trotted faithfully behind Emma. They must have been walking together on the estate.
"You're getting soft, Thomas," O'Brien stated. Thomas still looked at her with a contemptuous gaze, lifting his child in his arms, placing her on his hip. Her slender arm wrapped around his neck. O'Brien looked at him completely bewildered. The confirmation that her partner in crime had softened and learned to love the child.
"You better be careful not to overlook Emma again... because I can guarantee you one thing: if you hurt my child, you've made an enemy out of me," with these words, Thomas left the backyard.
"Where are we going?" the girl asked curiously.
"To the village. I have a few things to take care of," Thomas turned around briefly. They were far enough from the Abbey and therefore from O'Brien. He let the child down but kept her small hand in his.
"Why is Miss O'Brien so mean to me? I haven't done anything to her."
"Jealousy," Thomas replied simply. "She doesn't have children of her own. Probably, she sees what she's missed out on now."
"She's not just jealous. Miss O'Brien hates me!" Emma said, her voice trembling slightly.
Thomas paused for a moment, his expression turning serious. "Miss O'Brien doesn't hate you, Emma," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and concern. "She's just... unhappy with her own life, and sometimes people like that tend to take it out on others. It's not your fault."
Emma listened attentively, absorbing her father's words. It was difficult for her to understand why someone would want to hurt her, especially when she had done nothing wrong. But she trusted her father's judgment.
"You're a strong and resilient girl, Emma," he said, looking into her eyes. "Remember that. Don't let anyone make you believe otherwise."
Emma nodded, her faith in her father's words strengthening her resolve. She knew she couldn't change how others treated her, but she could control how she reacted to their cruelty.
"Thank you, Dad," she whispered, leaning into his comforting presence.
Emma's mind wandered to her upcoming first day of school. She still felt a bit nervous about the change, but now she knew that her father would be there to support her every step of the way.
"Dad, what will happen when I start school?" she asked, curiosity lacing her voice. Thomas smiled, a glimmer of pride in his eyes.
"Well, my little scholar, you'll meet new friends, learn new things, and discover a whole world outside of the Abbey," he replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "It'll be an adventure, and I'll be right there, cheering you on."
Emma's eyes lit up with excitement, and a sense of anticipation washed away her earlier worries. She had her dad's unwavering love and support, and that made her feel invincible.
Upon arriving in the village, they visited a leather goods manufacturer. "What are we doing here?" Emma asked curiously as she looked at the various bags, backpacks, and suitcases.
"I'm buying you a school bag. Unless you want to carry all your books and notebooks under your arm for the long journey starting tomorrow," Thomas reached for a square, brown leather school bag. It might be a little big for the 6-year-old, but Emma would grow over her school years, and then the bag would fit perfectly.
Emma could hardly sleep due to excitement. For days, she had been preparing for this special day: her first day of school. The idea that she could now go to school like the big kids filled her with joy and anticipation.
As the sun began to send its rays through the window, Emma jumped out of her bed. "Dad, Dad, wake up!" Emma called out with full energy and jumped into her father's bed. She bounced up and down, her dark brown hair swirling wildly around. Mindful that there wasn't much space on the narrow bed to jump without touching her father, who was sleeping on his side.
Thomas groaned in annoyance. Slowly, he opened his eyes. "Since when are you an early riser?" he wondered. Emma now plopped down on him.
"Today is my first day of school!" she exclaimed excitedly. Thomas instinctively covered his ear with his hand. The girl had too much energy and a much too loud voice for such an early hour.
"Come on, get up!" she urged with a big grin on her face.
Thomas couldn't help but smile as he saw his daughter's enthusiasm, but he grumbled, "We still have plenty of time."
"I don't want to be late," she argued and pouted her famous pout.
He sat up in bed and ran his hand through his tousled hair. "I guess my little girl has become a big schoolgirl now," he realized with pride. Emma nodded eagerly as she hugged her dad tightly and planted a kiss on his cheek. Thomas returned the embrace, holding his daughter tightly, when suddenly a knock came at the door. "Six o'clock!"
"Are you ready, my little dwarf?"
Emma grinned widely and started bouncing up and down in the room again. Thomas let himself be infected by her enthusiasm and finally got up.
After they both got dressed, they sat together at the breakfast table. Mrs. Patmore prepared Emma's favorite breakfast—pancakes. As they enjoyed their meal, they chatted about Emma's expectations and excitement for the first day of school.
"What if I don't know anyone?" Emma asked nervously as she took a big bite of pancake.
"Your friends from the village will surely be starting at the village school too," Anna presumed. "So, you already know at least two of your classmates."
"I have no doubt that you'll make lots of new friends," Mrs. Hughes encouraged the little girl.
"Maybe I'll even find a best friend!" Emma beamed with joy and wondered, "What will we learn first today?"
"Well, hopefully how to keep quiet," Mrs. O'Brien commented.
After breakfast, Thomas and Emma set off for school together. They walked hand in hand along the path, with excitement and anticipation in the air.
Emma stood nervously in front of the school building, tightly holding her father's hand. The sun shone warmly on their faces.
"Dad, what if I don't like school?" Emma asked, squeezing her father's hand tighter.
Thomas smiled affectionately and knelt down in front of her. "You're going to love school," he said optimistically. "It's time. Go inside now, okay? And make the most of your time at school."
Emma smiled and hugged her father tightly once again. "See you later, Daddy."
"See you later, my little dwarf. Have fun on your first day of school," Thomas said, pressing a kiss on her cheek and slowly releasing her hand.
Emma turned around and walked confidently through the gate. She looked back once and waved to her father, who waved back at her with a proud smile. With butterflies in her stomach, Emma entered the school building alone. She was ready to experience new adventures, make friends, and discover the world. Thomas watched her with pride and love, knowing that she was on her way to achieving great things.
Emma burst through the door excitedly and exclaimed, "Dad, Dad, I've got to tell you all about my first day at school!" Thomas looked up from his newspaper, a smile spreading across his face as he saw her enthusiasm, but he could also detect a hint of tiredness in his eyes. Nevertheless, he was eager to hear about Emma's experiences.
"Of course, Emma! Tell me everything about your first day at school," Thomas encouraged her, leaning back in his chair.
Emma bubbled with excitement as she began, "Well, today we learned how to write numbers. And my teacher, Mrs. Johnson, is really nice. She also read us a story. And I saw my friends again, Arthur and Daphne. We played together during break time, and..."
As Emma continued her enthusiastic storytelling, Thomas couldn't help but suppress a slight sigh. He had already heard about the numbers and the story, and he was familiar with the names of her new friends. That was because he had overheard the conversation between Emma and Mrs. Hughes, Anna, and Mrs. Patmore. And each of the three women had to endure the lengthy tale of Emma's first day at school.
Nevertheless, he suppressed his impatience and listened attentively as Emma detailed her experiences. He saw the sparkle in her eyes and the radiance on her face, and his heart warmed. After Emma finished her account, Thomas smiled and said, "Sounds like an exciting time at school."
A few days later Matthew Crawley enjoyed the tranquility of the garden at the Abbey, away from the other soldiers, when he suddenly noticed a familiar face. It was little Emma, sitting on a bench and diligently doing her homework. Curiously, Matthew approached the bench in his wheelchair and smiled kindly at Emma. "Hello, Emma, what are you doing here all alone in the garden?"
Emma looked up in surprise and returned the smile. "Hello Mr. Matthew. I'm doing my homework."
"That's very commendable of you, Emma. What subject are you working on?"
Emma pointed to her book and proudly replied, "I'm practicing mathematics. It can be quite tricky sometimes."
Matthew nodded in understanding. "Mathematics can indeed be a challenge. If you'd like, I might be able to help you. I was quite good at it in school."
Emma looked at him skeptically. "Really? But you must be very busy, I'm sure."
Matthew smiled warmly. "Emma, nobody is too important or busy to help others. Besides, I find it exciting to revisit mathematics. Let's see if we can solve these problems together."
Emma considered for a moment and finally agreed. She handed her book to Matthew, and they began working on the math problems together. Matthew patiently explained how addition and subtraction worked and helped Emma find the right solution paths.
As they worked together, a comfortable familiarity developed between Matthew and Emma. They laughed at mishaps and engaged in lively discussions about different approaches to solutions.
After a while, the homework was completed, and Emma thanked Matthew warmly. "Thank you so much, Mr. Matthew. You really helped me. It was much more fun doing the tasks with you."
Matthew smiled and gently stroked Emma's head. "It was my pleasure to help you, Emma."
AN: Miss OBrien doesn't look happy about the fact that Thomas is starting to be a father. And not just every now and then, but keeping his promise to always be there for Emma.