Thomas could hardly believe what he heard. His heart raced as he looked at his daughter. "How did you come up with that?" he asked cautiously.
"Is it true?" Emma pressed for an answer. The fact that her father was avoiding the truth saddened her.
"What were you told?" he inquired. Emma bit her lip. Why didn't he just answer with a yes or no? Was he dragging it out? "O'Brien said you adopted me and then realized it was a big mistake."
Thomas held his breath. Setting her dirty shoes on the floor, he returned to the bathroom. He gently placed his ungloved hand on her shoulder. "None of what she told you is true. You are my child," he said, turning Emma towards the mirror. The girl looked in the mirror and saw her own reflection, but also the image of her father, who still stood behind her with his hand resting on her shoulder. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Emma felt an overwhelming connection to her father.
"You are my little dwarf. The resemblance between us is undeniable," he said softly. The relief on Emma's face was unmistakable, as was the resemblance between them. She had his eyes, and some of her smiles resembled her father's. Only the little freckles on her nose, she got from her mum.
"Of course, I have more proof like your birth certificate," Thomas said. Emma turned around and surprised her father with a tight hug. "I'm sorry I doubted. I believe you," she said.
Thomas returned the hug warmly. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me," he confessed and planted a kiss on her cheek. He couldn't shake the feeling that O'Brien was planning to sow conflict between him and his child. After all, O'Brien and the rest of the staff believed that the adoption story was true. But that's where the lie about Emma's origins began. Emma was his own flesh and blood. His child. And this was made even clearer in the mirror, where she also possessed some of her mother's features. Anyway, this was the truth: he was Emma's biological father.
Emma smiled as she rested in her father's arms. Her doubts and fears had vanished. She felt safe and secure in his embrace, but Thomas quickly broke the hug. "Never listen to that nasty witch," he advised, looking at his pocket watch, "5 minutes," he noted with a sigh. The shoes were still dirty, and he hadn't come up with a plan yet. "I don't want to hear any more swear words, understood?"
"Uh-huh," Emma nodded. Thomas now reached for the dirty shoes. There wasn't enough time to clean them in the backyard, so he grabbed some washcloths instead.
"Look who decides to show up for supper," O'Brien hissed. The Barrows had just made it in time and scurried to their seats at the dining table, just before Carson. The glances from the staff, especially Alfred, O'Brien, Hughes, and Carson, did not escape them. The old, stern butler was certainly informed by Mrs. Hughes.
"With the tension in the air, one could almost believe something happened," Mr. Molesley said with a joking wink before looking at their faces and realizing that the situation was indeed serious.
Emma wished she could disappear under the table. O'Brien's eyes were positively malevolent. A quick glance at her father confirmed Emma's suspicion. Thomas was waiting for someone to bring up the afternoon's events. He was probably also waiting for O'Brien to make a misstep.
"How did His Lordship react to the destroyed sculpture? Surely he's already spoken to... the child. His Lordship can't be kept waiting," O'Brien began discussing the incident. She paused for a brief moment before using the word 'child.' Emma was pretty sure O'Brien was once again about to refer to her as a brat, but neither Mrs. Hughes nor Thomas wanted to hear that term.
"No, His Lordship hasn't been able to resolve the matter yet because Emma preferred to spend the afternoon in hiding," Mrs. Hughes muttered. Emma swallowed hard. Since when had Mrs. Hughes become so irritable and bad-tempered? She was always on her side.
"Mrs. Hughes," Mr. Carson cleared his throat, "I believe this highly pressing matter falls under the purview of the butler. I will attend to it after supper."
Emma wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing. Mr. Carson definitely had a soft spot for her. The butler liked her, even if he didn't show it in front of the other staff. Anyway, Mr. Carson kept his word. After supper, the Barrows found themselves in Mr. Carson's office.
"Well, Mr. Barrow," Carson began, "I've heard that you might be overwhelmed with your role as a father and the duties of a valet."
"Mr. Carson, I don't quite understand," Thomas wondered. "Does Emma appear unkempt and neglected, or am I not performing my duties meticulously? Did His Lordship complain about me?"
"No," the butler shook his head after scrutinizing the child from head to toe. "However, Mrs. O'Brien expressed her concerns that you might be overwhelmed with parenting and valet duties. She suggested that Alfred could take on some of your tasks, which I do not approve of. We can't keep changing valets for His Lordship."
"Mrs. O'Brien, you say?" Thomas said, taking a moment to think. It should have been clear to him that Emma was merely a means to an end. O'Brien was less concerned with tarnishing Emma's image and more interested in taking his job.
"As you've surely noticed over the years, Mrs. O'Brien doesn't have a good relationship with Emma," Thomas glanced down beside him, where Emma nodded in agreement. The girl looked infinitely sad and confused. She had a knack for fake crying on demand. Thomas took this as an opportunity to continue his story, "Can't you see that my daughter is afraid of her? I don't want to deny that Emma spent the afternoon upstairs – Emma has already been reprimanded – but she assured me she wasn't playing…"
"I visited Mr. Matthew," Emma blurted out. She didn't want to interrupt her Dad, nor did she want to involve Mr. Matthew in the story, as that wasn't the truth. However, Mr. Carson would have a hard time grasping the truth. "That's why I was upstairs."
Thomas tried not to let his surprise show on his face.
"It's true. I did fall against the sculpture, but it wasn't intentional. Mrs. O'Brien tripped me." Emma added.
"Emma sustained a knee injury from the fall," Thomas added, pointing to the large bruise. Emma was surprised by Thomas's claim because she had actually gotten the bruise earlier in the week while playing, and he knew it. But since she had been wearing tights all week, none of the staff had seen it. Her Dad had cleverly chosen her outfit earlier, opting for a knee-length dress and short socks, which made the large bruise quite visible.
"I'm afraid I was told something different. Why would Mrs. O'Brien do such a thing?" Mr. Carson inquired.
"I can only speculate. Maybe she's sad about not having a child herself. But I'm sure Mrs. O'Brien probably didn't want to risk any trouble thats why she is lying," Thomas lied.
"Very well," Mr. Carson nodded in agreement. "However, Emma Grace was given the task of cleaning up the mess..."
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Carson! Very sorry. The fall hurt so much, and then Mrs. O'Brien said many naughty words that a young girl like me shouldn't say," Emma sniffled, looking at the butler with her innocent, sweet puppy eyes, "And then she also claimed I was adopted – all of that really confused me - that's why I hid. " Emma added.
At the mention of 'adopted,' Mr. Carson's gaze went completely bewildered to Thomas, who placed his gloved hand on Emma's shoulder and bent down to her level. "As I've said, Emma, don't listen to Mrs. O'Brien. None of what she said to you is true."
"Mrs. O'Brien's words should be taken with caution," Mr. Carson agreed with a sigh. "Fortunately, Alfred was kind enough to clean up the mess... I think we can let the matter rest. I will tell His Lordship what happened. I don't think he'll talk to Emma if I tell him it was all just an accident."
"Thank you, Mister Carson. But You know, as a father, I come across various disciplinary measures from school and other parents. It would be appropriate for Mrs. O'Brien to apologize for her behavior towards Emma and to be accountable for her actions," Thomas said.
"That would be appropriate..." Carson mumbled. "I don't want the child to be spoiled."
"Indeed, neither do I," Barrow grinned slyly.
As soon as Thomas closed the door to Carson's office, Emma opened her mouth, causing the valet to immediately place a finger to his lips. He signaled for her to be silent. He didn't have much time because Carson was now coming out of his office, giving the Barrows a stern look.
"Daddy," Emma reached her arms upward, "Can you carry me up the stairs? My knee still hurts!"
Thomas's expression sharpened. What did this child think she was doing? Nevertheless, he bent down to carry Emma on his back to give her a piggyback ride.
"You've gotten quite heavy, little dwarf," Thomas said playfully as he slowly made his way up the stairs. Emma giggled and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
"I'm not," Emma protested. She may be 8 years old, but she still loved being carried piggyback by her father.
In the stairwell, they encountered Mrs. O'Brien, who smiled cheerfully. "Well, did you two get into trouble?"
"What do you think, Emma? Was Mr. Carson upset?" Thomas asked in surprise.
"Definitely. He was beside himself with anger!" Emma recounted dramatically. "So, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, Mrs. O'Brien," Emma now turned to the nasty maid. "He doesn't take it well when children get hurt."
O'Brien's gaze fell on Emma's knees. It was evident she was contemplating her next words and actions.
"Absolutely right," Thomas agreed. "I also don't take it well when someone sets a trap and hurts my child." Thomas took a deep breath, fixed his stern gaze on the maid before continuing, "You've gone too far with this, and I won't just let it slide. You will regret it."
O'Brien's smile disappeared. An uncomfortable silence descended upon the stairwell as Emma clung tightly to her father. After a brief moment of hesitation, Mrs. O'Brien cleared her throat and attempted to defuse the situation. "I'm sure it's all just a big misunderstanding. Who knows what lies the brat is telling."
"I don't think so. Emma told her side of the story. Children don't lie, unlike you, Mrs. O'Brien, and everyone knows that."
Emma, who still sat piggyback on her father's back, had by now loosened her arms from around his neck. She watched with anticipation as O'Brien angrily descended the stairs, while Thomas continued his way to the attic.
He release her in their bedroom. She plopped right onto her bed, reaching for her stuffed dog and hugging it tightly to her chest.
"You lied," it bubbled out of her, "I got the injury from playing!"
"Oh really?" Thomas raised an eyebrow in surprise. "May I remind you that you started with the lying, or will Mister Matthew confirm your story?"
"You know how children are," Emma shrugged. "We always add something new to a story but Children don't lie."
Thomas looked at Emma with a forgiving smile and sat down beside her on the bed. "I guess we both lied for our own good... but promise me, little dwarf, that you'll always be honest with me, alright?"
"Promise," Emma smiled. While the stuffed dog rested in her lap, she almost absentmindedly examined the charms on her bracelet. It had been a Christmas gift from her Dad. Emma wore the bracelet every day and loved the three different charms.
"Do you know why I chose these charms?" Thomas asked curiously. Emma shook her head.
"Each charm has a very special meaning," he began to explain, "A star for all your dreams and wishes, a heart for love, and a little book for the stories we've read together."
Emma listened to Thomas's words and smiled. The meaning behind the charms made the bracelet even more precious to her. She gently ran her fingers over the charms, feeling the smooth contours and the loving thoughts that went into each one. When she looked up from her bracelet, her gaze met her father's gray-blue eyes. Emma wasn't in the mood for talking, as if she had reached her maximum word limit for the day. However, she leaned against her father's side. He seemed to have had no more words left either, as he simply held her in a silent embrace. Sometimes, they didn't need words to express their affection.
The next morning, Emma joyfully skipped down the stairs. Mr. Carson stood at the head of the table, with the servants behind their chairs, waiting for the butler to sit down. He looked sternly at Mrs. O'Brien, his eyes radiating authority. "Mrs. O'Brien," Mr. Carson cleared his throat, "Have you apologized to Emma Grace yet? I cannot tolerate how you have treated a child here and continue to deny everything, even though a child has genuinely confessed to his mistake."
"No, Mr. Carson," O'Brien reluctantly admitted, "I think it's more of a her word against mine situation."
"But it's not," Mr. Carson replied firmly.
Mrs. O'Brien sighed and took a moment to survey everyone in the room. Then, albeit unwillingly, she turned back to Emma. "I'm sorry, Emma Grace Barrow."
Emma nodded slightly. Thomas observed the scene attentively and couldn't hide his mischievous grin. One should never mess with a Barrow.
Mr. Carson looked satisfied with the resolution. "Very well, now that we've settled this matter, we can return to our duties."
The servants took their seats at the breakfast table, and the atmosphere in the room gradually relaxed.
"I've placed an advertisement for a new footman," Carson announced.
"He will be the second footman, won't he?" O'Brien inquired hopefully.
"As to that, I will make no pronouncements at this stage," Carson replied.
"Try to find a man with something about him, Mr. Carson. I don't like to feel the house isn't being properly represented," Thomas suggested.
"Is that aimed at me?" Alfred felt attacked.
"If the cap fits,wear it" Thomas retorted.
"He doesn't need to," O'Brien shot a venomous glare, "You've been ensuring for years that we aren't properly represented." Thomas glared at the maid with displeasure. He was not pleased that O'Brien kept involving his daughter in this conflict.