Downton Abbey - The Story of Emma Barrow

Prologue

Thomas opened the back door annoyed, only to find that nobody was there anymore, even though the doorbell had just rung. Instead, a basket lay at his feet. He peeked inside. A small whimpering creature was lying there. Thomas audibly sighed and lit a cigarette. At the same time, he read the note lying on the baby's stomach.

Thomas Barrow,

It's your child

Born on March 15, 1912

Martha is dead because of you.

If she hadn't carried your child, she would still be alive!

Don't you dare show up at the funeral.

O.T.

Thomas took a long drag from his cigarette. As if he didn't have enough problems already, he now had an abandoned baby at the doors of Downton Abbey with a note claiming it was his child. Ridiculous. He had only slept with a woman once in his entire life - his childhood friend Martha Turner, to be exact. Like him, she was curious to see if it would change them, so they had sex together. But it didn't. It was even terrible. In any case, he couldn't have this problem now. Just today, he had clashed with his lordship and Carson. They had rejected him as a valet. But he wanted nothing more than that. He didn't want to be a common servant anymore, but now a new valet was supposed to appear.

A cry brought Thomas back to reality. He took another drag from his cigarette, slowly exhaling the smoke from his lungs. The little dwarf looked at him with big blue eyes. Wrapped in a cream-colored blanket, Thomas threw his cigarette to the ground, stepped on it once with his boots. What should he do now? He didn't expect to find a crying baby in freezing temperatures.

"You're unwanted too," Thomas remarked as he gently reached for the baby. Still wrapped in the blanket, he carried the child into the servants' room. By now, the crying had also stopped, and the little baby probably just longed for a little closeness. Thomas sat down in his chair by the fireplace. The warmth would surely do the baby good. His colleagues' gazes did not escape him. Anna looked at him, bewildered but smiled. William was also wondering where the child had come from. However, it was Carson who looked at him in shock and asked, "What is that?"

"A baby," Thomas replied briefly, rolling his eyes. Wasn't it obvious?

"I can see that too," snorted the butler. "Where did you get it?"

"It was outside the door in the cold. I brought it in to warm up."

"A good decision, Thomas," Mrs. Hughes appeared behind the butler. "Our little guest is probably still hungry," nodding to the little baby, who was sucking on Thomas' finger. It didn't bother Thomas as it didn't hurt, but he wasn't exactly eager to be covered in baby drool.

"I'll notify the police and his lordship," Carson said.

"Please telegraph Dr. Clarkson as well," Mrs. Hughes requested. Now Carson rolled his eyes. He was the butler here, not a messenger boy.

Overwhelmed, Thomas handed the baby over to Mrs. Hughes. Immediately, the baby started crying. It cried as loud as its little lungs would allow until Mrs. Hughes gave the baby back to Thomas. The crying stopped.

"Oh, it looks like you have a favorite here," she grinned.

"Mrs. Hughes, wouldn't you rather take the child yourself? Please!" The dear housekeeper sighed and took the crying baby once again. "Let's see if you're a boy or a girl," smiled Mrs. Hughes, gently laying the child on the table. Carson grimaced. That was the dining table! You couldn't lay a child on it.

"A little girl," announced Anna joyfully, the tiny baby already having wrapped her delicate hand around Anna's finger. Whether housekeeper, kitchen staff, or housemaid, the women gazed at the small baby with fascination and love - except for O'Brien. The gentlemen of the staff kept their distance, not understanding how one could be fascinated by a drooling thing - especially since it wasn't their own child.