Thomas strode into the library to ensure that everything was in readiness before the family members arrived for their tea. Lady Edith was already there with young Marigold on her lap. "Have you seen Lord Grantham, Barrow?"

"I believe he was just leaving for his appointment in York, m'lady."

"No!" Edith stood, speaking emphatically. "I must see him before he goes. It's very important." She handed the little girl over to Thomas. "Please look after her while I try and catch him. I'll be right back."

"But m'lady … " Thomas' voice took on a panicked quality as he watched her dash off. He felt quite certain that this lay outside the duties of an underbutler. He held the child stiffly at arm's length, and immediately she began to cry. He stepped out into the great hall hoping to spot a maid or anyone he could hand her off to. Seeing no one, he returned to the library. "Don't cry, Marigold. Don't cry," he begged, but the wailing only increased.

At length he heard the sound of a man's voice from behind him. "Mr. Barrow?" Thomas spun around to see the new footman, Andy, leaning in the doorway wearing a bemused expression.

Thomas shouted over the din, "Don't just bloody stand there. Find someone to take her."

Instead Andy came in and took the girl himself, holding her close to him. At once she became silent. "That's better, isn't it?" the footman cooed to her.

"How did you do that?" Thomas looked amazed.

"I grew up in a big family, so I've had lots of practice. Why do you have her anyway?"

"Well, it wasn't my idea, was it?" Thomas replied testily. "Lady Edith just handed her to me and left."

"It might be easier if you sat down and held her," Andy suggested.

Thomas complied, and Andy set the child on his lap. She looked up at the underbutler with curious eyes and yanked a lock of thick, dark hair that had fallen down on his forehead. "Ow!" he yelped. No sooner had he extricated his hair from her grasp when she grabbed hold of his tie, pulling it open.

Andy couldn't hold back a smile. He reached into his pocket and took out one of the chocolate biscuits he kept there for Sybbie and George. He handed it to the girl who accepted it gleefully. "That should keep her busy for a while."

Thomas looked down in dismay. "She's getting crumbs all over me."

"You'll survive, Mr. Barrow," Andy assured him. "I have to go downstairs now to fetch the tea."

"But—"

"You'll be fine." The footman walked away grinning.

Marigold soon finished the treat and proceeded to wipe her sticky hands on Thomas' clean, white shirt front, depositing streaks of chocolate there. He dug into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, dabbing at the stains to no avail. She then reached for his face, leaving even more chocolate. He proceeded to wipe her tiny hands before she could inflict any more damage. The little girl wriggled from one knee to the other exposing a wet spot on his trousers. Thomas' face screwed up in disgust. "Ugh, Marigold," he muttered. Hearing her name, she giggled and fixed him with a sweet smile.

Lady Edith sailed back into the room, startled to see the normally dapper servant looking much the worse for wear. "I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

Thomas rose and handed her back the child. "Not at all, m'lady."

Edith remained skeptical. "Are you sure? I know she can be a handful."

He gathered what he could of his pride and exited the room. Stomping angrily through the hall and down the stairs, he nearly ran into Andy carrying the tea tray. The footman's eyes grew wide at the sight of Thomas' disheveled appearance. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a sound, Barrow hissed, "Not a word. Do you understand? Not one bloody word."