Downton Abbey - The Story of Emma Barrow

Grantham House (July 1923)

AN: Many thanks to all my loyal readers, as well as the new ones. Unfortunately, it took me longer than expected to upload this chapter. I had a persistent cold and just didn't feel well enough to write and upload the chapter. But now, I don't want to keep you waiting any longer. I hope you enjoy reading it. And regarding the question of why Tom Branson treats Emma as an upstairs child, I think it was revenge. After all, Thomas had previously caught him with Mrs. Bunting upstairs.

Emma looked around curiously at the servants' quarters of Grantham House. Compared to Downton Abbey, everything here seemed smaller, yet the rooms exuded a certain coziness. Just as she was taking in the new surroundings, Thomas abruptly pulled her out of her thoughts. "Emma," he said with a sharp undertone, "you're more than welcome to carry your own bag." He shot her a look that made it clear he wasn't in the mood to carry extra burdens—especially after already struggling with Tom Branson's luggage.

Emma let out a small sigh and reached for her travel bag, which Thomas had previously tossed at her feet. She knew it was best not to argue when her father was in this mood. She lifted the bag and followed him like a small shadow. Grantham House was still unfamiliar to her. The narrow corridors, the steep stairs—all of it felt like a labyrinth.

When they reached the attic, Emma could see the corridor split into two sections—one for the male and one for the female servants. However, Thomas ignored the female side and entered the male servants' quarters.

"Dad, where's my room?" Emma asked hesitantly.

Thomas stopped abruptly and turned to her, his brow furrowed. "Your room?" he repeated, emphasizing the first word as if he could hardly believe it. "You think you're getting your own room?"

Emma sensed the sharpness in his tone and bit her lip. "I... I thought..." she began softly, but before she could finish, Thomas interrupted her.

"That train ride with the higher-ups didn't do you any good," he said with a slight hint of sarcasm. "You ride with Tom Branson and the Dowager Countess, and suddenly you think you're entitled to the same comforts?"

Emma lowered her head. "I guess that's a no, then," she murmured, more to herself, though she knew her father would hear.

Thomas nodded, the tension in his movements apparent. "You're absolutely right." His voice was no longer as sharp as before, but the strain between them lingered.

Emma swallowed hard, nervously chewing on her lower lip. She didn't want a fight with her father. "You're upset because I travelled with them," she said cautiously.

Thomas looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment, he said nothing, as though he were considering how best to express his feelings. Then, he let out a sigh. "No, it's just..." he began at last, shaking his head lightly and running a hand through his hair. He turned away from his daughter and stopped a short way down the hall in front of a door.

He opened it with a quiet creak. The room was plain, with two narrow beds, a small table, and a wardrobe barely big enough for two. It was nothing like what Emma was used to at Downton Abbey.

"So, this will be our room," she murmured, setting her bag down and glancing around.

Thomas watched her as she took in the small space, and a pang of guilt tugged at him for his harsh tone. "I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice gentler now.

Emma turned to him, her eyes large and understanding. "I know."

Mr. Carson entered the servants' hall. "I'm glad you're all here. I have an announcement to make. Her Ladyship would like to treat us to an outing while we're down south," he announced cheerfully. A surprised cheer went through the servants.