AN: Thank you for your comment!

"You're making the whole corridor dirty," scolded Mister Carson. He was still quite cross about the incident from the day before when he had slipped on Emma's scattered toys. Emma cast her eyes down, filled with uncertainty. Her little heart raced with fear of getting into trouble again. She had only brought in a bit of slush, but for Mister Carson, it seemed an unforgivable offense.

"It's just snow," Emma tried to explain timidly.

Mister Carson sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I can see that," he grumbled.

At that moment, Thomas stepped forward - he had been outside having a smoke - and gently placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Is there an issue?"

"I was merely pointing out the dirt to Emma Grace," Mister Carson replied.

"It's not my place to say, but I'd let one of the housemaids know," Thomas said.

Carson was visibly close to exploding, which he likely would have done if Mrs. Hughes hadn't appeared. "I've already taken care of it. Anna will clean up the mess right away."

Thomas discreetly pulled his daughter with him. They should settle the matter privately, and that's exactly what they did.

"Do you not think you're being a tad harsh on Emma?" Mrs. Hughes gently inquired as she settled into the chair opposite Mister Carson with her teacup in hand.

"By no means," grumbled Carson as he sipped his tea. "Discipline and order are of the utmost importance in this house. If we become lax, everything will fall into disarray."

Mrs. Hughes looked at him with concern in her eyes. "I understand your desire for order and tradition, Mister Carson, but don't forget that Emma is just a child."

Carson leaned back in his chair. "Are you defending Thomas's poor parenting, then?"

"You underestimate Thomas - as I think we all likely do - but he's raising his daughter quite well."

"I beg to differ."

The wooden piece moved across the game board. There was indeed a spirit present, and she fervently hoped that this spirit would be her mother. After all, her dad never talked about her mother. He always changed the subject whenever she mentioned the word ‚Mom.' Maybe her parents had a falling out? After all, he seemed not to have a high opinion of her. Or was he so full of grief that he couldn't talk about her?

"What's going on?" Thomas appeared behind them.

"Miss O'Brien has made contact with Mama," Emma smiled.

"She did?" Barrow's gaze landed on Sarah O'Brien, who grinned mischievously. And surely had nothing good in mind for the child. He couldn't shake the feeling that O'Brien was trying to push the child out of his life.

"It's getting late, I think you should go to bed," Thomas finally said.

"Please, Dad! I want to know what Mama wants to tell me!"

"Emma!" Thomas looked at her with a warning. She was breaking one of his established rules, and he absolutely despised it when the child tried to challenge his authority as a father on some days.

"But Da..." Emma immediately stopped her plea when she saw her father's angry eyes. She sighed and quickly left the room.

Thomas lit a cigarette and took a strong drag. "I don't want any false hopes being raised. I suggest, O'Brien, that you henceforth keep away from Emma. We wouldn't want your bad influence rubbing off on the child."

"My bad influence?" Miss O'Brien raised an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't particularly approve of either of your influences," Anna chimed in, looking up from her reading, "But for once, I agree with Thomas. Playing such a game with a 7-year-old isn't right. Especially since we all know the truth about Emma's origins."

"The brat doesn't seem very happy in Thomas' presence. So I just wanted to do her a favor."

Thomas took another drag of his cigarette, his brow furrowing as he contemplated O'Brien's words. He knew that his relationship with Emma wasn't always straightforward. He had been cautious about letting her get too close, afraid of letting his own emotions overwhelm him. But he also recognized that he needed to do better, to be more present in her life. He honestly believed that he was improving as a father. He spent a lot more time with his daughter, helping her with her homework and listening to her talks.

"Emma's happiness is my concern," Thomas said evenly, his gaze steady on O'Brien. "And I believe I know how to handle that without your intervention."

"I just wanted to cheer up the brat," O'Brien stated.

"Cheering her up is one thing, Miss O'Brien, but playing with her emotions and dangling false hopes in front of her is another. She's a child, not a pawn in your games. By the way my daughter is not a brat."
O'Brien rolled her eyes dismissively, clearly not taking his words seriously. "Suit yourself, Barrow. But mark my words, you are bound to regret letting her into your life." With those cryptic words, O'Brien left the room, leaving Thomas alone with his thoughts. He knew that O'Brien could be manipulative and deceitful, and he was wary of her intentions.

"I don't understand why Miss O'Brien is a bad influence," Emma asked curiously as Thomas returned to the bedroom late in the evening. Thomas raised an eyebrow in surprise as he hung his jacket over the chair.

"You should really stop eavesdropping – Miss Emma," he said, taking off his shoes and getting his things ready for the night.

"I wasn't eavesdropping. You were just talking loudly."

"So, you heard us up here," Thomas questioned suspiciously, giving the 7-year-old a stern look.

"Children have really good ears."

Thomas sighed. It was pointless to argue with a child; they always had the last word. "She's a deceitful person, that's why I don't want Miss O'Brien around you. She's hurt you enough."

"But this time, she just wanted to help me talk to Mama."

"That's exactly what I mean. The game is very unreliable."

"You never talk about Mama..." Emma stated, sadly.

He sat down beside her and gently placed an arm around her shoulders, "You have her hair color, freckles, nose," Thomas listed, though he had heard from villagers that the child looked more like him.

"How did you two meet?"

"We knew each other from school," Thomas hesitated, "We were married, but she lived with her parents." He couldn't tell the truth, and somehow he had to maintain the story Lady Mary had concocted.

"Why don't I know my grandparents at all?"

"Because… they're also dead... I think it's better to look to the future and not talk about the past." Thomas lied and grabbed the chocolate before sitting next to Emma on the bed again. Leaning against the wall, they shared the chocolate bar together.

"Are you happy?" Thomas asked with interest.

Emma shrugged, "I think so," she confessed. "I like my school and friends, and I get to help Mrs. Patmore with baking, and sometimes even sneak some dough," she said excitedly.

"What about me?"

"You're my dad," she shrugged again, "there are certainly worse fathers."

Thomas looked at her with a serious expression. Did his daughter not like him? Weren't they so happy together on Christmas morning? Suddenly, he saw a broad smile spread across her face. She had been teasing him, "Dad!" the girl laughed, "You're my favorite person here!"

Emma had been certain: she wouldn't sleep through this year's New Year's Eve! However, things turned out differently, as they often do. And before the clock struck midnight, she had dozed off in her seated position at the table. Her arms were resting on the tabletop, and her head was nestled upon them. And somehow, she had been put to bed – probably by her Dad – even though she had intended to start the new year of 1920 with them.

When she eventually woke up, she realized by the clock in the room that it was already past midnight. Once again, she had overslept.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked accusingly as Thomas entered the room.

"You were sound asleep," he defended himself, "Besides, that's not a nice way to start the new year."

Emma let out a long sigh, causing Thomas to observe her with amusement.

"Happy New Year, my little dwarf," he initiated. Emma, now in her defiant childlike posture, sitting on her bed with her arms crossed and her head lowered, glanced up briefly. "I wish you a Happy New Year too, Daddy!" she smiled before quickly returning to her defiant stance.

"Next time, I'll wake you up, I promise," Thomas grinned.

"Daaaad," Emma said. Thomas let out a sigh. It could only mean one thing: Emma had a request for him. He looked at his daughter expectantly as he took a deep drag from his cigarette.

"You've got your half day off coming up soon... and I thought we could go on a trip," Emma suggested.

Thomas raised a curious eyebrow, exhaled smoke from his lungs, and asked, "A trip? Where to?"

"Dublin," burst out Emma with the idea, "Lady Sybil and Tom wrote me a letter. They say Ireland is magical, and I really want to meet some lep-re-chauns."

"And you thought we could just pop over there for half a day?" Thomas concluded, amused.

Emma shrugged innocently, "You never get much time off."

"Do you even know where Dublin is?" Thomas chuckled.

"Ireland," grinned Emma cheekily. She wasn't stupid. She knew Dublin was in Ireland.

"And you think we can manage that in just half a day off?" Thomas doubted.

Again, Emma just shrugged, "Ireland's right next to England, after all. We could take the train."

"You're a little adventurous dwarf, that's what you are," Thomas said, smiling, "But a trip to Dublin would take several days. We can't do it on half a day off." Though only seven years old, Emma had the enthusiasm and charm of a whirlwind. Her heart was full of curiosity and a thirst for adventure, and Thomas admired those qualities in her.

"Then you take more days off!" Emma enthusiastically suggested.

"You're quite persistent, little dwarf. But it's not that simple. I can't just leave for several days, and such a trip costs a lot of money."

"I could ask Mr. Carson if he can give you time off, and maybe he'll even give you more pocket money," Emma suggested. Before Thomas could respond that this was a pretty foolish idea, Emma was already running out of the servants' hall.

Thomas shook his head. He finished his cigarette and went after his daughter. Emma knocked energetically on the door. "Come in!" called a muffled voice from inside. Emma stormed into Carson's office as if on a vital mission. Thomas leaned against the hallway wall, listening to the conversation between his daughter and the grumpy butler.

"Mister Carson," the girl spoke in a cheeky tone, "My Dad needs a few days off because we want to visit Lady Sybil and Tom in Ireland. That also means that my Dad needs more money."

Carson looked up from his work, his forehead furrowing deeply. He wasn't pleased with Emma's boldness and her demand.

"Emma Grace," Mister Carson said sternly, "I understand you're a little girl, but it's still not appropriate to be so impertinent. You lack respect for those of higher rank. Furthermore, it's not your place to decide for your father whether he gets time off or not," he explained with a serious expression.

Emma looked disappointed, but she wasn't ready to give up. "But Lady Sybil and Tom invited me to visit them."

"Well," Carson cleared his throat, "Lady Sybil and Tom Branson will have to wait until you're of age."

"But that takes forever! I'm only seven years old!" pouted Emma, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Please, Mister Carson!"

"I suggest you leave my office now, and we forget that you were ever in here and spoke to me so disrespec…"

"I am not disrespectfull! I just asked for your permission for a trip." Emma let out a long sigh. It seemed the butler really didn't understand.

"Weren't you taught not to interrupt people when they're talking?" Mister Carson's tone was stern as he addressed Emma's interruption. "You should start behaving properly, otherwise, I may be forced to punish you."

Emma felt she had gone too far and now had to bear the consequences. Disappointment weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she didn't want Mr. Carson to see her as a misbehaving child. She bit her lip, fought back tears, and nodded quietly. Eventually, tears welled up in her eyes. She hadn't expected Mr. Carson to react so sternly. Her proud enthusiasm slowly faded as she realized her action might have gone too far. The child sniffled quietly.

Thomas, who had been standing in the hallway and had heard everything, now entered the office and placed a reassuring hand on Emma's shoulder.

"Mister Carson, I want to apologize for my daughter's behavior. Again. She's still a child and sometimes a bit impulsive," he explained.

"The child can't be blamed for her behavior. It's not Emma Grace's fault that you neither care for her nor discipline her," Carson grumbled.

Thomas tensed slightly, gripping Emma's shoulder a bit harder. Anger rose in him. "My daughter is well-mannered, Mister Carson."

Mister Carson raised an eyebrow and scrutinized Thomas. "Well, Emma Grace's behavior right now isn't exactly a testament to her good upbringing, Thomas," he replied unrelenting, "The child lacks respect and proper manners."

"Don't speak about her like that. She is well-behaved, respectful, and decent."

Emma looked fearfully between her father and Mister Carson. She sensed the tense atmosphere in the room and didn't want the situation to deteriorate further. "I'm sorry, Mister Carson," she whispered softly.

"That's all right, Emma Grace. It's not your fault that your father doesn't raise you properly." Mister Carson sighed and made a dismissive gesture, signaling her to leave his office.

Thomas led his daughter out into the backyard, where he lit a cigarette. "Did that have to happen?" he asked in annoyance, "In case you haven't noticed, I'd like to be promoted to valet... I can't afford to have a falling-out with Carson."

Emma looked down and shyly kicked a stone around. She knew she had gone too far. "I know," she mumbled, "I just really want to see Lady Sybil and Tom again. They say Ireland's amazing."

Thomas exhaled smoke into the air and gently placed his hand on Emma's head. "Sometimes we have to adjust our dreams to reality." He stubbed out his cigarette and leaned down towards her, "I still have my half day off. It might not be enough for Ireland, but it's enough to go to Ripon. Have I ever taken you to the cinema?"

Emma shook her head, "What's that?"

"You'll see," Thomas smiled, "But first, let's practice your blackjack skills."

Emma and Thomas were sitting at the table in the servants' hall, playing cards, when suddenly the door swung open, and O'Brien and Mrs. Hughes walked in. Both of them appeared serious and somber.

Thomas immediately sensed the tension in the air. His gaze shifted to Emma, who was still unaware of the bad news. "You'd better go upstairs and do your homework," Thomas suggested, rising from the table.

Emma looked confused, but she felt the seriousness in her father's voice. Thomas leaned down to her and explained, "There are some things that the adults need to discuss. Come on, go upstairs."

Emma nodded reluctantly and stood up. She didn't quite understand why she had to leave, but she trusted her father. However, it seemed he didn't have much trust in her ears. He stood in the hallway, his gaze firmly fixed on the stairs, ensuring that the child wouldn't eavesdrop this time. So, Emma had no choice but to indeed go all the way upstairs. But she still had a letter to write to Lady Sybil and Tom.

Emma caught the adults just as they were finishing the ghost game with Mrs. Patmore and Daisy. She would have loved to ask her Dad why Daisy was allowed to contact William while he had forbidden her from contacting her mum. It seemed so unfair in her eyes. But there were more pressing matters at hand.

"Daddy," Emma spoke, concern etched on her face.

"What's wrong?" Thomas asked, looking into his child's sad eyes.

"I can't find Isis anywhere," she explained, her expression downcast. For a moment, Thomas's heart sank. The worry in Emma's eyes touched him deeply. He hadn't taken her feelings into account when he had taken Isis. He hadn't considered that Emma would notice immediately if the dog didn't return by the end of the day. But he tried not to show his involvement in Isis's disappearance.

"I'm sure the dog will turn up soon," he said confidently. Lord Grantham will surely notice that his faithful dog has gone missing, and then he can shine by bringing the dog back.

Just then, Mr. Carson appeared in the servants' hall, and the staff quickly stood up, "Lord Grantham is organizing a search party for Isis. Thomas, inform the hallboys and arrange for torches," Carson instructed.

"Very well, Mr. Carson," Thomas nodded. But before he hurried out of the room, he briefly addressed his daughter. "I told you, Isis will be back soon."

"In the meantime, we could read a book?" Anna suggested. "Come on, Emma, let's make ourselves comfortable by the fireplace." So, they sat in front of the crackling fireplace. Emma was wrapped in a warm blanket, cuddling her stuffed dog tightly. Anna loved reading stories to Emma, and Emma loved listening to them.

With each page Anna turned, Emma felt sleepier. The words began to blur, and her eyelids grew heavy. Anna's voice became a gentle, soothing murmur that seemed to lull her into a peaceful slumber.

Finally, as the story came to an end, Emma slowly closed her eyes and breathed evenly. Anna set the book aside and watched the peaceful expression on the sleeping girl's face. She smiled and gently stroked Emma's hair.

Emma was on her way to school when she suddenly spotted a familiar dog by the roadside. "Look, it's Isis! Lord Grantham's dog," she exclaimed excitedly to her best friends, Ruby and Simon. Emma crouched down, and the faithful hound immediately approached her.

"Hello, Isis, we were so worried about you," Emma said, giggling as the dog licked her face.

"Come on, Isis, we'll take you back home to Lord Grantham," she said gently. Isis seemed to understand that she should return home and trotted alongside the three friends.

When Lord Grantham saw his beloved Isis, his face lit up with joy. "Oh, Isis, you're back! Thank you, children," he said, expressing his gratitude to Emma, Ruby, and Simon. The children smiled proudly as they received a generous reward of 10 pounds. With that, they could buy a lot of sweets.

They had several reasons to celebrate. Thomas's promotion to valet, Isis's return - Emma was convinced the dog had just gotten lost - and Emma's very first visit to the cinema. Another reason to visit the cinema.

Emma sat impatiently in her seat at the cinema, waiting for the film to begin. She reached into the candy bag repeatedly to sweeten her wait. Until finally, the sounds of a piano filled the air, accompanied by the first moving images flickering across the screen. Emma sat wide-eyed, completely captivated by the magic of the cinema. Thomas watched her with a smile, pleased by how happy she seemed.

During the movie, Emma laughed at the humorous scenes and held onto Thomas's arm with anticipation during the tense moments. When the film finally ended, and the lights came back on in the theater, Emma looked up at Thomas. Her face radiated with enthusiasm. "That was fantastic, Daddy!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Thomas smiled and squeezed her hand. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, little dwarf."

AN: I'll see you in part/season three!