I am back with another chapter; I am nearly finished writing season 5! I have been busy writing season 5 because it is one of my favorite seasons of Downton Abbey and I have finished writing Rose's wedding and I am up to writing the Moorland Holiday episode (which is my favorite episode).
I wanted to ask you guys who do you think would be a good partner to Emma, such as a man with a title (British peerage title like Baron, or Earl or Duke)
or no title?
or Oliver Woodward?
Or Jack Branston?
I am thinking of writing an OC but I am unsure if the OC should have a title and estate. Please let me know!!
Anyways, enjoy reading chapter 8 - Bazaar.
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August 1922. It had been a little over a week since Emma had been in London and had seen Oliver. She wasn't looking forward to seeing him knowing what had transpired. The saddest part Emma knew was that she didn't feel any love, she was rather fond of him, but that was all. She felt a warm gush of guilt about to bubble in her stomach. She avoided talking to him on the telephone, instead she talked to the other directors and back and forth, some workers came over to Downton to discuss finer details and selecting models.
Now, Emma was getting more involved in her role as advisor of Downton. She had heard of the pig's fiasco from Mr. Blake and Mary explained about the irresponsibility of the caretaker of the pigs, when he should've made sure the water trough was secure. Tom had suggested that he, Mary, Edith and Emma visited the pig farm where Mr. Drewe was currently taking care of the pigs.
Emma was carrying a document folder as she walked in between Mary and Edith. It had been some time since she had taken a stroll with the three.
'I assume Drewe knows we're coming.' Mary insinuated, as they arrived at the property.
'Yes. I sent a note yesterday.' Tom answered surely.
'Have the pigs recovered, do you think?' Edith asked.
'I believe they are well,' Emma replied, placing one hand in her tweed coat, 'I think we would've heard something bad would've happened by now.'
From a short distance, they saw Mr. Drewe with the pigs in their peg holding a bucket of water and pouring it down in the trough.
'They look in good shape to me, after the shock of their arrival.' Mary said confidently as they stopped at the fence.
'But why didn't he check to see if they all had water before he left for the night?' Tom asked, resting his arms on the fence.
'Maybe he thought a full trough was enough.' Mr. Drewe answered, 'He wasn't to know they'd kick it over.
'Mr Branson is right. He should have made sure.' Mary defended Tom. 'You would have done.
