Tristan sighed and drew his palm down his face. "Do you still have a flask of brandy in your desk?"
Marcus smirked. "You look as though you need a bottle. Help yourself to it while I discuss the particulars with Miss Sinclair."
"The particulars?" She stepped closer, the sweet scent of almonds drifting over him.
"To begin with, we shall dispense with all formality. You will call me Marcus."
"Then you must call me Anna."
Marcus put his hand to his chin in thoughtful contemplation as his gaze scanned her dull dress. "Agreed. I will call you Anna in private, but something more masculine when you don breeches to ride out with me at night." When her eyes grew as wide as trenchers, he added, "We do not want the smugglers to know you're a woman."
Tristan mumbled something as he sat in the chair behind them.
Miss Sinclair put her hands on her hips and huffed. "What did you have in mind?"
"Something that's easy to remember. Something short, something fitting." He knew just the thing. "I have it. I shall call you Ned during our assignment."
"Ned? Ned! Is that the best you can do?"
Marcus pursed his lips. Despite feeling a deep sadness over Tristan's impending departure, Miss Sinclair would help to ease the burden. "It reminds me of a horse I once had, so I'm unlikely to forget it."
When a smirk touched the corners of her lips, he should have known her sharp wits were about to come into play.
"You believe it is wise to disguise one's identity when informing on criminal activity?"
He gave a firm nod. "I do."
"Then I shall also refer to you by another name during our assignment. It would not be wise for me to call out your name in the darkness. One never knows who is lurking in the shrubbery, listening to our conversation."
"She's right," Tristan remarked. "You can't argue with her logic."
Marcus sat on the edge of his desk and folded his arms across his chest. "Let me guess. You've decided you'll call me Milo, after a mangy dog."
"Oh, no." She shook her head. "I would never demean you in such a way. I think I will call you Rupert."
"Rupert?" Heavens, the name gave him chills, but he hid it well. "After a beloved family member, I presume."
"No," she chuckled, "after a pompous lord filled with his own self-importance."
Chapter 9
Having shared an early supper with Tristan, the event more subdued than previous meals enjoyed at the long crude table, Anna decided to accompany Mr. Danbury as he walked his friend to the gate.
They stopped a few feet from the entrance.
"You will write and let us know how you fare?" Anna rubbed Tristan's arm affectionately, fearing an embrace would result in her shedding tears.
"You know I will."
Mr. Danbury pulled Tristan to his chest and patted him on the back. "It's not going to be the same around here without your jolly antics. I fear I shall be more solemn than ever."
"I doubt that's even possible." Tristan laughed but it failed to reach his eyes, and she knew he found it hard to say goodbye. "Try to be a little more hospitable in my absence. Conversation can be quite stimulating you know."
"Miss Sinclair and I are going down to the village inn this evening," Mr. Danbury said with a smirk. "We can converse over a mug of ale. I can't be any more hospitable than that."
Anna turned to him and narrowed her gaze. "When you mentioned we would be going out this evening, I didn't think we'd be going to the inn."
Mr. Danbury shrugged. "I thought we'd discuss it later. As I recall, you did agree to follow my command."