"Lady Mary," Carson said, surprised. The entire staff immediately rose to their feet. Thomas gently grasped Emma's arm, signaling to the girl to do the same.
"I don't want to keep you from your meal for long," Lady Mary explained, "Wedding plans are progressing, and we still need a flower girl... so I thought of Emma." The gazes of the staff all landed on the little girl, who stared at Lady Mary in astonishment. She had never been a flower girl at a real wedding before.
"Of course, only if you're agreeable, Mr. Barrow. After all, you are her father."
"I agree, Milady."
Lady Mary smiled in relief and looked at Emma. "What do you say, Emma? Would you like to be our flower girl?"
Emma could hardly contain her joy and nodded excitedly. "Yes, yes, Milady! I would love to do it!" The joy in Emma's eyes was contagious, and a relieved smile spread across the faces of the staff.
The four flower girls consisted of Ruby Harris (Emma's best friend), Daphne Atkins (the daughter of a Downton gardener), Victoria Sinclair (the Viscount of Sinclair's daughter), and Emma. The four girls immediately got along. And as the rehearsal was long and dull, they giggled and whispered to each other, just as Lord and Lady Grantham did while Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew stood before the altar, following the Archbishop's instructions.
"Do you already know what our dresses will look like?" Ruby asked curiously. Emma shook her head. "Mrs. Hughes won't reveal it to me. But she says the dresses are beautiful, and she will dress us."
"That's so exciting," Ruby's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and anticipation for the upcoming wedding.
"Shall we call the troops to order?" Travis, the priest, spoke, shooing the four flower girls back to the church entrance. Emma and Ruby stood side by side directly behind Lady Mary and Lord Grantham.
Fortunately, it was the last rehearsal of the day, and the girls were quickly relieved of their duty.
"Are you coming over to my place?" Ruby asked. Before Emma could answer, Lord Grantham's voice sounded, "Emma, we will take you with us."
"I don't think that's going to happen," Emma replied softly to her best friend. The only advantage was that she wouldn't have to walk alone in the darkness – something her dad wouldn't tolerate anyway. It was likely that her father had arranged for the Crawleys to take her, as the staff would be too busy with wedding preparations to pick her up.
Ruby said her goodbyes, leaving Emma with Mr. Matthew, Lady Mary, and Lord Grantham. Lady Grantham and Mrs. Crawley had already left.
"Everything is arranged, I assume?" Lord Grantham inquired of his daughter and future son-in-law.
"It went quite well as expected," Matthew said.
"I don't understand why we had to rehearse so many times, to be honest," Lady Mary remarked.
"Well, if we did, it was certainly not due to the enchanting flower girls," Matthew winked.
"We made sure to be on our best behavior and do as we were instructed," Emma confirmed.
"I assume you're looking forward to the wedding too?" Lord Grantham asked curiously as they headed to the car.
"Yes, Milord," Emma nodded. "I've never been a flower girl before."
"Emma was very excited when I asked her," Lady Mary smiled. "You should have seen her radiant eyes, Papa."
"It's lovely that everyone will have their part in the wedding – even the youngest ones," he smiled.
Of course, Emma wasn't allowed to sit in the back of the car, only in the front beside the chauffeur.
A few days later, she noticed a new servant with short red hair who seemed to tower over everyone by about five heads – if not more. The 8-year-old was only 4 feet 6 inches tall. Emma listened as Carson questioned the young servant until the butler finally left him in peace. This gave her the opportunity to enter the servants' hall. She regarded the newcomer skeptically and asked curiously, "Are you a giant?" Standing on her tiptoes did nothing to increase her height.
With his mouth half open, he stared at her. "Uh..."
"Don't be cheeky. Just look at yourself, you ungrateful Lilliputian," O'Brien hissed and left with Alfred.
"What?" Emma asked, bewildered. She wasn't exactly sure what a Lilliputian was, but she could sense the condescension in Miss O'Brien's words.
"You should borrow the book 'Gulliver's Travels' by Jonathan Swift from the big library," Mrs. Hughes suggested. "You'll find your answer in there."
Determined to solve the mystery, Emma followed Mrs. Hughes' advice. She borrowed the book and settled into a chair by the fireplace in the servants' hall. It didn't take long for her to learn that Lilliputians referred to small people. Her eyes widened in astonishment as she made the connection. She began to associate the term 'Lilliputian' with a negative feeling.
When Thomas entered the servants' hall, he recognized the expression on Emma's face. "What's wrong, little dwarf?" he asked.
Emma glared at her father in anger and retorted, "I'm not your little dwarf!" This earned her puzzled looks from some hallboys, Anna, Daisy, and Alfred. Only Miss O'Brien smiled triumphantly. Thomas was also confuse, "What?"
"I'm not short, and I'm definitely not a dwarf!" she hissed angrily.
"Did I miss something?" Thomas asked, raising his eyebrows, while holding a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other.
Miss O'Brien seized the opportunity to further provoke Emma. "You've arrived just in time for the Lilliputian uprising," she said mockingly, her smile amused.
Emma, unable to contain her anger any longer, retorted forcefully, "I'm not causing a scene!"
Miss O'Brien laughed and teased Emma further, "Oh, look, the little brat is taking it personally." The tension in the servants' hall was palpable as Miss O'Brien and Emma locked eyes sharply. Thomas's gaze shifted between Emma, O'Brien, and the rest of the staff. Daisy seemed to hold her breath. The kitchen maid seemed unaccustomed to such confrontations. Alfred apparently didn't know whether to stop his aunt or watch the situation unfold. Anna, on the other hand, looked pensive, as if considering how to defuse the situation. But then Anna cleared her throat, "I don't think it's wise, Mrs. O'Brien, for an adult to provoke a child."
"One should be allowed a little joke, shouldn't they?" she replied somewhat offended. None of the present servants nor Emma commented on O'Brien's words, probably because they all knew she would relish it if they continued to harp on it.
"Can I get an explanation as to why I can't call you 'little dwarf' anymore?" Thomas asked curiously, finally taking a seat at the table.
"Dwarves are small people, and you always call me 'little dwarf,' which means you see me as too small, just like Miss O'Brien. That's simply mean and hurtful!"
"What?" came Thomas's confused comment again. He stared at his daughter. Did his daughter really dare to call it mean and equate it with O'Brien's maliciousness?
"I think you've misunderstood, Emma," Anna interjected.
"No, I haven't," said Emma, still full of anger and frustration. "Mrs. Hughes told me to read the book, and it's written here in black and white. Dwarves are way too small people."
"But I don't call you 'little dwarf' to insult you," Thomas explained. "It's just an affectionate nickname."
Emma looked at her father skeptically. "Then I don't want a nickname. I think it's silly," and she crossed her arms over her chest as if she were about to throw a tantrum.
"I can call you Emma Grace if you prefer," Thomas suggested with a smile.
"That's not funny, Dad!" Emma admonished.
"I'm not joking. That was a sincere suggestion. You're the one who doesn't want a nickname anymore, and Emma Grace is your name, after all," he defended his proposal.
Emma thought for a moment about what it would be like if her Dad called her Emma Grace: 'Have you done your homework, Emma Grace?' 'How was it at Ruby's, Emma Grace?' 'You did great, Emma Grace!' But somehow, her whole name was just as negatively charged as 'dwarves.' Mr. Carson called her by her full name exclusively, while Thomas used it only when she was in trouble.
"But..." Emma stopped briefly. "Then just call me Emma."
"No nicknames or abbreviations, Emma Grace," Thomas said firmly.
"But that would remind me of Mr. Carson every time," she protested.
"That's not my problem," he shrugged as he lit his cigarette, and Anna handed him the newspaper.
"You can call me Emmi."
Thomas took a long drag from his cigarette before shaking his head. "No, I can't. That was William's name for you." Thomas's gaze met Anna's, and the maid gave him a sad but grateful smile.
"Then come up with a new nickname," the girl demanded. It certainly didn't sit well with her that her Dad was ignoring her and focusing on the newspaper instead.
"You know that your current nickname has nothing to do with your size," Thomas said, still fixated on the newspaper. "It's just a way of showing how much I love you," he finally turned to look at her, where Emma still stood with her arms crossed, a mix of anger and frustration on her face. "You're my wonderful daughter, my little dwarf. There's a big difference, Emma Grace."
Emma looked at her father and saw the sincerity in his eyes. Despite her initial anger and hurt, she could now understand that her father had no intention of insulting her. It was a gesture of affection and love. And if she were honest, her Dad had been calling her 'his little dwarf' her whole life. Slowly, Emma's expression relaxed, and she uncrossed her arms. She moved closer to her father and said softly, "I'm sorry, Dad. I like my nickname."
Thomas gave her a smile. "I hope so, my little dwarf."
"I'm quite nervous," Alfred confessed as the maid adjusted his livery. He was about to serve dinner for the first time.
"You don't need to be. You have the skill and the determination," O'Brien encouraged him.
"But unfortunately, he lacks experience," Thomas remarked as he walked past.
"He's right," Alfred admitted.
"Just ignore him altogether. You have good manners, and you're not as vain as Thomas!" O'Brien called out to the footman as he left, rather than saying it to her nephew. Though Thomas briefly stopped, he didn't bother to look back. Instead, he entered the kitchen.
"What's the matter with you?" Thomas wondered as Daisy aggressively collected eggshells and onion peels.
"I've had enough. She said we'd be getting a new kitchen maid, and I would then be Mrs. Patmore's assistant."
"Well, if they've really promised it to you, you should refuse to work," Thomas suggested.
"What do you mean? Are you suggesting I go on strike?"
"But don't say I advised you to," Thomas replied and looked around the kitchen. Wasn't his daughter here just a few minutes ago? Sometimes the child was like an invisible ghost. "Where's my daughter, by the way?" Thomas wondered.
"She was here earlier," Daisy turned around in the kitchen, surprised that Emma had disappeared again. But then Thomas noticed the small gap between two kitchen cabinet doors.
Thomas crouched down in front of the kitchen cupboard and slowly opened the door. For just a brief moment, he could see his daughter. She was squeezed into the narrow kitchen cabinet.
"I'm hiding," she explained and quickly closed the door.
"Who are you hiding from?" he wondered. He opened the door again and curiously looked at his daughter. "Emma, why..." before he could finish his question, Emma formed a hushing sign with her finger in front of her lips. "I'm not here," and she closed the door again.
"When will you be back?" Thomas asked with an amused grin on his face.
"When you-know-who is gone," she replied.
"I'm pretty sure you-know-who is currently serving dinner upstairs," Thomas explained and opened the door once again. "What's going on?"
This time, Thomas firmly held the cupboard door in his hand, so Emma couldn't close it again, "I thought you had reconciled with Mister Carson."
"I thought so too! We got along pretty well for a while, but now he's asking me to polish all that silverware!" Emma explained. "It took me forever to polish a spoon! A spoon!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I'm not polishing anything anymore. I'm not his maid!"
"Isn't that the duty of a servant?" Thomas pondered. He certainly didn't like that Carson was exploiting his child for such tasks. How many times had he tried to make it clear to Mister Carson that Emma was still a child and not working for him personally?
"He doesn't have one anymore," she replied defiantly.
"But he has one now, or am I mistaken? He has his giant footman now."
Emma grinned mischievously. "Dad, can you include the giant footman in our bedtime stories? I'd love to know what the now evil valet does when he finds out there's a new favorite servant in the kingdom of the little princess."
"Sure, if you come out of the cupboard," he winked.
AN: As you can see I am also fan of Harry Potter ;) Thanks as always for reading. Thank you for your comment!