“I need her lady’s maid with her at the very least but a gardener or stable hand with her whenever she’s outside.” Cillian rubbed a hand over his face and set the eye patch back in place. “Someone strong ideally. That comes under your purview.”
Shah straightened, shoved the charcoal stick behind his ears, and tucked the notebook into his tweed jacket. “What’s this all about, Cillian?”
Cillian eyed his friend. He and Shah had been through much together. They’d shared many a night around the fire, unable to quite believe they had survived yet again when so many other boys had fallen. They had drunk together, warding off the chill that came with the knowledge they were to head into the battle the next day. They had discussed war, and life, and what the meaning of it all was.
But they had never discussed their pasts.
Cillian wasn’t sure he could. He’d kept that as hidden as possible and for good reason. Everyone blamed him for Mary’s disappearance. Everyone. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t even been in town when she’d vanished. It didn’t matter that he loved the woman to distraction.
He wasn’t certain she loved him in return. It didn’t matter at the time. She’d been kind and lovely and willing to while away hours talking to him. Hell, he didn’t really understand what she saw in the quiet Irish boy that everyone said had a touch of the devil in him, but he was always grateful for her friendship even if it would never be anything more.
He plucked a leaf from the nearby climbing plant and pulled it between two fingers again and again. He didn’t even know where to start.
“I saw that man yesterday.”
Cillian snapped his attention to Shah.
“The only reason a man ever looks that angry is because of a woman.”
“It was a long time ago,” Cillian said stiffly.
Shah’s mouth quirked. “Aye, I didn’t take you for the sort of man who has lovers in every corner of the country. So pray tell me, why is he here now if it was so long ago?”
“Because this is the first time I’ve set foot in Bath in decades.” Cillian shook his head and hefted out a sigh. “I thought he was in London. I thought the bastard was going to stay there.”
“Everyone who joins the army is running from something.” Shah said sagely, making Cillian regret he ever hired the damned man. Did Shah have to pretend he knew everything?
“Or they need a job.”
“There are other jobs, and no one likes war.” Shah scowled. “Well, apart from you.”
“I didn’t like war.”
“You were just very, very good at it.”
Cillian couldn’t deny it. His rise through the ranks had been easy. He’d discovered he could fight, shoot, and organize a skirmish of almost any French garrison with an ease that terrified even him. He had to wonder if all those people who said he had the touch of the devil weren’t wrong.
“What wereyourunning from anyway?” Cillian countered before this conversation went anywhere he did not wish it to.
“A nagging wife.”
“You don’t have a wife.”
“A hefty inheritance and too much responsibility.”
“You like money too much.”
Shah shrugged and chuckled. “Very well. My pocketbook was empty.”
There was something else, Cillian reckoned but as they both had their secrets, he could hardly press further. “With any luck, your pocketbook shall be quite full by the time I have got these investors on my side. They just need to see expansion is what is needed to turn things around.”
“I am just here to manage the estate, and I’ll see that it earns well, but I can’t tell you much about charming investors.” Shah plucked the charcoal from behind his ear, leaving a dark smudge on his cheek. “And my pocketbook will be full regardless.” He pointed the stick at Cillian. “You will be paying me regardless, my lord.”
“Your job won’t exist if the estate doesn’t,” Cillian reminded him. “And the estate needs more than profitable farms and tenants who pay on time.”
“I followed you into battle, Cillian, and I have every faith you will have those neglected investments of yours making a fortune before long.” Shah shot him a grin. “And I will be expecting a nice pay rise then.”
“You always were a greedy bastard.”