Free Midwinter Manor 2 -Keeper's Pledge by JL Merrow Page B

at that, young Danny.” Her sympathy shone in her eyes.
    Funny how much more real suppositions felt when someone else shared them. There was a strange prickling in Danny’s eyes, and he blinked it away as best he could. “I’d like to speak to Effie alone, if I may,” he said politely.
Mrs. S nodded. “Ten minutes, then I’ve to be getting the dinner ready.” She bustled out.
    “Effie?” Danny said. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. He took a deep breath. “You needn’t fear I’ll… make demands upon you. I’ll see you and the babe right, that’s all. Give you both a name, see you’re looked after. But I won’t expect nothing in return.”
She looked up, then. “You mean we won’t really be married?”
    “It’ll be a proper church wedding,” Danny assured her. “But we’ll be man and wife in nowt but name.” He couldn’t do this if they weren’t clear about it from the start.
    She nodded, and he could see as she gathered her courage, like a mother hen shepherding her chicks. “Then my answer’s yes. I’ll marry you, for the child’s sake.” Then she made a little face. “And mine,” she added, and Danny found he liked her all the better for that admission. “It’s settled, then, and I’ll speak to the vicar tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mr. Costessey,” she said gravely. “Will that be all?”
     
“Aye,” Danny said, unsettled once more by her formality. “You can go tell Mrs. Standish now.”
    And he’d have to find Philip and work out some way of speaking to him alone. Danny’s heart was so heavy, it weighed down his steps as he plodded into the garden, hoping some fresh air would clear his thoughts of the black fug that suffocated them.
    He wouldn’t ask about the Cranmore lad, he decided. Wouldn’t betray he’d seen them together. That’d just lead to recriminations and anger, and if it was over between him and Philip, Lord knew he didn’t want to end it that way. He’d just lay out what he’d done, and see how Philip took it, and then he’d know.
    Danny paced around the garden in the near dark, the still, damp air chilling his bones without clearing his head. When the scullery maid popped her head out, Danny gathered his courage and called her over. “Can you ask Mr. Standish to see if Mr. Luccombe can spare me a moment of his time?”
    She bobbed and scurried off. Danny then had to kick his heels for what felt like an age as the message made its tortuous progress through the house. If he’d had any sense, he’d have sent a note asking Philip to meet him at the cottage later. But no, notes could be read by them as weren’t supposed to. When the door opened again, Danny opened his mouth to tell the maid he’d changed his plans, but it was Philip himself who stepped out into the damp.
“Costessey?” he said, a frown creasing his brow.
    The use of his surname seemed to sound the death knell to his hopes, but Danny realized the reason for both frown and formality when Miss Shorwell trotted out behind Philip. He nodded respectfully, his heart sinking so low he reckoned any minute now he’d see it take root in the ground. “Mr. Luccombe. Miss.”
“You, ah, wanted to speak to me?”
    Not any more, Danny didn’t. Not with one of Philip’s guests there to force them into the role of master and man and nothing more. He stared at the tips of his boots, scuffed and muddy as they were. “Begging your pardon, sir, miss, but it’s a private matter. But it’ll keep—”
    “No. Lord, don’t let me get in your way,” Miss Shorwell said decisively. “I’ll be off to see what Millie’s up to.” She took herself back into the house, but managed somehow to leave the awkwardness behind. Danny felt wrong-footed, unable to switch gait from servant to lover so sudden.
    Philip seemed ill at ease too, looking about nervously. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, moving closer to Danny. “She and I were talking, and she just tagged along.”
Danny nodded.
    “What is it,