Secrets Of The Outback

“I intend to speak to her, with your permission, Blair.”

“Ah, no.” He shook his head. “You’re not haring off to North Queensland.”

“I can do it on my own time. This weekend. Maybe you’d be good enough to grant me Monday, as well. I’ll be on the job. And it’ll be wonderful to see my mother.”

Skinner eyes sharpened. “Of course. She’s still up there with your aunt?”

Jewel nodded, keeping her expression cool and calm. “I wanted her to live with me, but she doesn’t like change.”

“Oh, all right, then,” Skinner lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “It’s a helluva distraction, but it has the smell of easy bucks.”

“Thank you, Blair.” Jewel stood up, preparing to leave.

“I noticed a small error in your preparation of the Mayne Goddard brief.” Skinner fixed her with such a steely glance that she sat down again.

“Really? A misplaced comma, perhaps?”

“Don’t be too clever, my dear. No, it’s…” Skinner slipped his gold-rimmed glasses onto his nose. “Ah, here it is. Good thing I picked it up. It might have cost us. You said Shipton Technologies funded the initial deal.”

Jewel breathed an inner sigh of relief. “They did.”

“But surely it was Goddard on their own?” Skinner gave her a steady frown.

“Let me refresh your memory.” Jewel spoke pleasantly. “It was supposed to be, but things changed. A man called Elliot stepped in to handle the negotiation, remember?”

Light dawned in Skinner’s eyes. “Ah yes, now I do. You’re off the hook, Eugenie, when I was so looking forward to catching you out. Shipton Technologies, of course.” He gazed across at her, considered a minute. “By the way, if you were to pop in with some papers at around three-twenty this afternoon, I could introduce you to Lady Copeland and Keefe Connellan. They’ll be here.”

“My goodness. I assure you I’m appreciative of the honor.”

“It’s a gesture of my confidence in you, dear girl. So for God’s sake, be on your best behavior. That sardonic tone might go over well enough with me, but these people are used to a lot of respect.”

“I’ll be so respectful they’ll never know what hit them,” she promised with a straight face.

“You might keep in mind that Keefe is a past master at gobbling up small fry,” Skinner said acidly.

Like you hung heavily in the air.

CHAPTER TWO

BLAIR SKINNER WAS ALL SMILES, as he shook hands with his favorite clients, then waited until they’d seated themselves—he had special chairs brought in for such occasions—before he returned to his revolving leather armchair behind the desk. Lady Copeland had asked for this meeting, bringing along not her son, Travis, as might under normal circumstances have been expected, but Keefe Connellan. Keefe would provide company, support and advice. And few better, Skinner thought, scanning Connellan’s handsome familiar face. Keefe had hair that was almost jet-black, and his eyes were equally dark. They were remarkable eyes, ablaze with intelligence and a shrewd intensity that a lot of people, including Skinner, found daunting, but they also had a marvelous capacity to light up with humor and an irresistible charm. Men as well as women felt it. Skinner, the clotheshorse, approved of Connellan’s unmistakable sense of style—the dark-gray suit, beautifully tailored to fit his tall, athletic body, the very pale lilac shirt worn with an olive silk tie patterned with lilac, silver and midnight blue. Keefe Connellan looked what he was: a rich, highly successful young man from a powerful and influential family.

Lady Copeland, as usual, was lovely, but getting very fragile. Skinner knew she was seventy-five but she didn’t look anywhere near that age. She always dressed beautifully, today in one of her exclusive little suits, in a shade of indigo that was particularly effective with her wonderful eyes. She wore glorious triple-stranded South Sea Island pearls around her neck, chin-length pearl-white hair classically framing a face whose bone structure would probably look good forever. Her skin was extraordinarily unlined. Granted, she had the money for the most expensive skin treatments in the world, but so did other clients of the same age and none of them looked as good. Davina Copeland was and remained a genuine beauty.

She was smiling at Keefe now. Skinner could see the ease and depth of affection that lay between them. They seemed to be seasoned confidants—even co-conspirators. Certainly this kind of bond didn’t appear to exist between mother and son, which was possibly one of the reasons Lady Davina Copeland still held the reins of power in Copeland Connellan.

“So?” Keefe asked with his slow smile, deliberately breaking into Skinner’s thoughts. “Perhaps we could get started, Blair. I have an appointment in just over an hour. Lady Copeland has filled me in thus far, but perhaps you can tell me more. On the face of it, I don’t think we can rule out industrial espionage.”

Skinner inclined his head in acknowledgment. “But we want proof.”

“Of course.” Keefe leaned forward, assuming like lightning a different guise—official, authoritative, keeping his brilliant black gaze on the lawyer. “And I’m quite sure we can obtain it. Inside the law. Just one question.”

Skinner hoped he was prepared for it….

WHEN THE KNOCK CAME some twenty-five minutes later, Skinner was so intent on the discussion, he wondered for a moment who would have the temerity to interrupt him when he was with such important clients. Anger flared in his eyes, and he swung around in his revolving chair, remembering at the last moment that he’d instructed Eugenie Bishop to make a calculated appearance around that time.

“Enter,” he called curtly, his expression fixed. All exchanges with Keefe Connellan raised him to this level of intensity. Keefe was more than his equal when it came to strategy and points of law. It didn’t make him dislike Connellan; rather, Skinner strove constantly to be well regarded by the younger man.

As they all glanced toward the door, Jewel opened it and walked gracefully into the room, her demeanor poised and confident. Before Skinner could open his mouth to introduce her, Lady Copeland, suddenly looking years older, simply slid from her chair onto the carpeted floor.

“My God!” Skinner leapt up in agitation, wondering if he’d imagined the icy hostility that swept Keefe Connellan’s face. Clearly they were both shocked. Connellan was already down on his knees, demanding a glass of water. Lady Copeland was already stirring, her face white as a sheet.

“Keefe,” she said almost desperately, clutching at his jacketed arm. “Keefe.”

“It’s all right,” he assured her in a strangely harsh tone. “We can handle this, whatever it is. Let me get you up.” He put his strong arms beneath her and lifted her into the chair, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Lady Copeland?” Jewel was back within seconds, carrying a glass of cold water, which she offered to the woman.

“Who are you?” Lady Copeland asked in a quavering voice. She clearly wanted some sort of answer, but Jewel felt it was beyond her.

“I should’ve explained,” Skinner said hastily. “This is one of our associates. Eugenie Bishop, Lady Copeland.”

“Bishop?” Connellan turned to stare at Jewel.

“I don’t understand.” It was impossible to ignore the hostility that emanated from him, the half-horrified, half-fascinated expression on Lady Copeland’s face.

“Here, let me help you.” Jewel moved quickly, seeing Lady Copeland’s hand shake badly. She didn’t even pause to consider that Lady Copeland might reject her help. As it happened she didn’t, allowing Jewel to assist her in bringing the glass to her mouth.

“I’m so sorry. Are you feeling better?” Jewel asked, bending to peer into the older woman’s face.

“I’m fine.” Lady Copeland gave a faint little smile that struck Jewel oddly as very brave after that sudden, shocking collapse.

“And why is Ms. Bishop here, precisely?” Keefe Connellan looked at Skinner with unconcealed contempt.

“Mr. Skinner was after a particular file,” Jewel fired back levelly. She’d never met a man like Connellan. Who the devil did he think he was? She felt a wave of answering aggression. More to the point, what had she missed? She’d surely missed something. He was looking at her as though she was playing some high-stakes game. Or as if she had secrets to hide. What on earth was going on? Whatever reaction she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this.

Connellan now held out his hand like a man used to a great deal of authority. “Show me.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Connellan, it’s confidential.” She kept her expression neutral.

“I thought it might be,” he said. “I’d like to see it, all the same.”

Skinner interrupted uneasily. “Look here, Keefe, Ms. Bishop is one of our finest young lawyers and my protégée. She did a lot of research for the Quinn Corp.-Omega takeover. I thought it was time you met her.”

“So you arranged it.” Connellan’s tone was hard.

Skinner shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Keefe. Or why you’re upset.”

Connellan took a step closer to Lady Copeland, his manner both protective and daunting. “Are you feeling better, Davina?”

“Perhaps a cup of sweetened tea?” Jewel suggested, already turning to go.

“Thank you, my dear, but no.” Lady Copeland spoke quietly and gently. “I’m sorry if Mr. Connellan and I seem distracted.”

“We can scarcely fail to be,” Connellan said, his voice clipped. “I’m curious, Ms. Bishop. How long have you been with the firm?”

“Three years.” Jewel returned his challenging gaze with one of her own.

“Ms. Bishop came to us with wonderful references,” Skinner submitted, sounding quite confused.

“And where did you work before that?” Connellan asked.

Such unfettered arrogance, Jewel thought. She named the highly respected law firm in the north.

“But you wanted to come to Brisbane?”

She nodded a shade too curtly. “It’s not too terrible to be ambitious, is it, Mr. Connellan? I needed more demanding work.”

“Eugenia graduated top of her class,” Skinner pointed out. “Indeed, she won the University Medal. Across all disciplines on all campuses, as I believe you did yourself, Keefe.”

Connellan ignored him. “Go ahead, Ms. Bishop. As you might imagine, we’re particularly interested.”

“Really?” Jewel couldn’t mask her surprise. “You only met me a minute ago.”

Lady Copeland, who had listened without interrupting, now spoke. “What is your background, my dear?”

Jewel felt astonished by her interest. “I could show you my file, Lady Copeland, but shouldn’t I be getting you a cup of tea?” She sought to keep her tone respectful.

“I’ll ring for it.” Skinner moved quickly to the phone, betraying an uncharacteristic agitation, not without a hint of excitement.

“I find it hard to believe you’re a country girl,” Keefe Connellan said, his black eyes moving so disturbingly over Jewel that she felt herself flush. She was developing a profound dislike of this too-handsome, too-arrogant, too-rich and powerful man.

“But I am, Mr. Connellan. Take it or leave it. In fact, I was born on an Outback cattle station.”

Incredibly he laughed. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said strangely. Facing her, he was disconcertingly close.

“Doing?” Her vivid blue eyes sparkled with anger. Jewel was confident in herself and her own abilities. She refused to let this man belittle or insult her, no matter who he was.

But he smiled at her. A curiously unnerving smile, for all that it lit his lean, darkly tanned face. “You’d better be good.”

Lady Copeland spoke in a voice so strained it seemed almost theatrical. “It’s all falling into place. Your father was a Steven Bishop? Overseer on one of our properties, Mingaree Station, some twenty years ago.”

Skinner looked over at Jewel quizzically. He had always sensed this girl had some mystery to her. Was that what it was all about? Her father? What had Bishop done?

Jewel inclined her gleaming blond head, one side sweeping forward to shield her face. “He was. Perhaps you could tell me, Lady Copeland, why you and Mr. Connellan are so interested. My father died tragically, as you must know—or perhaps you don’t. He wasn’t important in your scheme of things.”

“I didn’t know him, my dear,” Lady Copeland confirmed gently. “I saw him only once in my life, at my late husband’s funeral.”

“I was six at the time,” Jewel answered, just as quietly. “I don’t really remember Dad going, but my mother told me he attended the funeral with a party of cattlemen.”

“What else do you remember?” Keefe Connellan asked.

Jewel turned on him with magnificent disdain. “He never came home.”

In the midst of the bitterness, he suddenly sounded sincere. “I’m sorry.”

“Blair, I wonder if you’d mind leaving us for a few minutes?” Lady Copeland unexpectedly took the initiative. “I would appreciate it.”

Keefe Connellan intervened. “Davina, I don’t think this is the right time. You just fainted and you’re still very pale. I should take you home.”

“Ten minutes, no more.” Lady Copeland threw him a trusting smile.

“Take as long as you want, Lady Copeland,” Blair Skinner said, not meeting Jewel’s eyes. “I have things I can attend to.”

He went to the door, practically colliding with a secretary carrying a silver tea tray. The secretary smiled at Jewel, who went to her and said thank you, then put the tray down on a side table. As Skinner shut the door, Jewel poured Lady Copeland a cup of tea, asking over her shoulder if she took milk.

“No, my dear. No sugar, either, but perhaps today…”

Jewel ladled in two teaspoons and passed the elegant cup and saucer to Lady Copeland, who took it with a steadier hand. “Tell me about yourself,” Lady Copeland invited, gesturing to the armchair Keefe Connellan had vacated. He stood, arms folded, and leaned against Skinner’s desk.

“You’re dying to tell someone, aren’t you,” he said.

“Pardon me, but are you insane?” Jewel let her own hostility spill over.

He stared at her for a few moments, his handsome face drawn into somber lines. “I’m so very sorry, Ms. Bishop, if I’m Goddamn offending you.”

“Keefe!” Lady Copeland endeavored to soothe him. “Maybe she doesn’t—”

“Doesn’t what?” Jewel asked, finding the whole situation bizarre. Yet was it? Now that she was really looking at Lady Copeland, she was swept by a strange sense of familiarity.

“Does your mother live with you?” Lady Copeland asked, sipping her tea, then putting it down.

“My mother lives in Hungerford, North Queensland, where I was raised. Perhaps you can give me a clue, Lady Copeland. I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

“You haven’t looked in the mirror for a while?” Keefe Connellan asked in a dark voice.

Jewel sat back wearily. “Could this possibly be the nature of your enquiry, Mr. Connellan? My appearance?”

Though she spoke sardonically, inside her was growing panic, confusion, even fear.

“So it’s come to you at last. My, my, my!” he drawled, eyes snapping.

In desperation, Jewel turned to Lady Copeland, who was now excessively pale. “Please tell me! I swear I don’t know what this is all about.” Lady Copeland was gazing at her with such a strange expression but for the moment seemed quite unable to reply.

“We didn’t get much notice, either,” Keefe Connellan said, his handsome features drawn tight. “Tell me, are there many golden-haired, black-browed, sapphire-eyed women in your family?” he asked. “Don’t look so stunned. You’re a beautiful woman with very distinctive features.”

“So?” Jewel spread her hands. “Please continue.”

“But, Ms. Bishop, you’ve even got your hair cut the same way. Tell me, are you and Skinner enjoying this? I assure you your enjoyment won’t last long.”

Jewel stood up, her mind racing. This meeting had implications that were deeply disturbing. They could also cost her her job. “There’s no way I can continue to sit here and listen to this,” she said. “Either you come out with the information you appear to have, or I’ll break all the rules by walking out on you.” Arrogant son of a bitch. He could get her fired, but she no longer cared.

Behind her Lady Copeland sighed heavily. “My dear, I may be almost three times your age and I, too, am breaking all the rules by saying this, but you’re the living image of me when I was in my twenties.”

“The question is, why haven’t you noticed?” Keefe Connellan demanded before Jewel could hope to speak.

He moved suddenly, taking her by the arm and guiding her toward a gilded mirror that hung between two ceiling-high Georgian bookcases.

“Please let go of me,” Jewel said from between clenched teeth. Her confusion was growing.

He removed his hand immediately but continued to watch her with careful eyes, their two heads reflected in the mirror. “Are you going to tell us what’s going on, Ms. Bishop?” he asked.

She felt as though she was hardly breathing. “Fine, there’s a resemblance,” she conceded. “I see it now, but I was never looking for it. Hardly! All I can say is that it’s a coincidence. And for the record, Blair Skinner has never remarked on any such resemblance.”

“He must have known,” Connellan said.

“Known what?” She swung on him. Tall herself, she had to look up at him. “What sense is there in keeping me in the dark? I’m not a fool. You seem to be implying that Blair Skinner and I have devised some strategy to bring me to Lady Copeland’s attention.”

“Haven’t you?” he challenged.

“Please, Keefe.” Lady Copeland spoke quietly.

Jewel ignored him and walked back to where Lady Copeland was sitting. She noticed that a fraction of color had come back into the woman’s face. Jewel sat down so her own face would be level with the older woman’s, staring into eyes she now saw with shocking clarity were indeed like her own. “I wouldn’t for the world be party to any plan to upset you, Lady Copeland. Neither would Blair Skinner. He respects you greatly. It was exactly as he said. I’ve done quite a bit of work on the Quinn Corp.–Omega takeover. I’m well thought of in this firm. He felt it was time I met some of our more important clients.”

“Surely you could up with something better than that?” Connellan stood tall, his expression cool and cutting. An imposing figure who clearly didn’t believe her.

“I don’t think I could come up with anything better than the truth. In any case, this isn’t a courtroom, Mr. Connellan,” she reminded him.

“But you’re playing a dangerous game.”

“Nonsense!” she said emphatically.

“Perhaps, my dear, we’ve all been taken by surprise?” Lady Copeland suggested, still looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Or you and Mr. Connellan have leapt to a conclusion,” Jewel countered. “I don’t allow myself to be used by anybody. That includes my boss.”

“Maybe you could visit me so I could find out more about you.” Lady Copeland for all her power and influence seemed to be pleading.

Jewel stared back at her, perturbed. “There can’t be any connection between us, Lady Copeland, no matter how strong the resemblance. Isn’t it said we all have a double somewhere?”

“Perhaps not so close to hand. I have to admit you play the game well,” Keefe Connellan said dryly.

Jewel faced him, terribly unnerved but determined not to be thrown off balance. “Game, what game?” she asked. “Why do you seem to think it’s your place to confront me, Mr. Connellan? Why this hostility? My God, it fills the room! I don’t feel the same antagonism coming from Lady Copeland.” It was perfectly true. Lady Copeland’s demeanor was curiously nonthreatening.

Connellan merely shrugged. “To answer your question, I’ve known Lady Copeland all my life. I care about her. We’re part of a tight circle. Whoever disturbs her, disturbs me. I wonder if you fully appreciate that.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Connellan.” Jewel met his gaze unflinchingly.

“Perhaps you should be.” A faint smile curved his mouth. “What was the plan? First the meeting, then the blackmail?”

It was an insult too great to be borne. Before she knew it, Jewel’s hand flew up spontaneously and she struck Keefe Connellan across his arrogant face.

The silence in the room was profound. Jewel felt her heart flutter.

“Oh God, I didn’t mean that,” she said.

“Yes, you did.” Connellan rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. “It’s a first, anyway. I’m sure you’ll tell me next that you’re the proud possessor of a black belt.”

“I apologize,” Jewel said, feeling his whole aura intensely. “But you have to admit you deserved it.”

“What else have you got up your sleeve?” he enquired with mock politeness.

Jewel was utterly exasperated. “I want to hold onto my job. I deeply regret this upset, but I feel I’m the innocent victim here.” She turned to Lady Copeland, who appeared to be hanging on her every word. “This is the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on you, Lady Copeland. I’m sorry if—for whatever reason—that makes you sad.” And sorrow was the expression printed on Davina Copeland’s face.

“Oh, it does, my dear.” Lady Copeland flung a narrow hand to her heart. “Forgive me, but…you’re not hiding anything from us?”

This would be ridiculous if it weren’t so disturbing. “I’m sorry, Lady Copeland. I’ve already told you no. If we’ve finished our conversation, I should get back to work.”

Again Keefe Connellan intervened. “So how did you get this job? Who offered it?” He glanced at his watch.

“I’m not sure this is any of your business, Mr. Connellan.”

“Oh, it is,” he muttered grimly.

“I was recommended to Mr. Skinner by Professor Goldner from the university,” she said, knowing he would check.

“So Skinner is definitely mixed up in it?”

Jewel sighed in disbelief. “I haven’t the vaguest idea what you mean. I came with very good references and recommendations. Let’s get that straight.”

“By all means,” he said tersely.

“I hope you’re discreet, Ms. Bishop?” Lady Copeland suddenly appealed to her.

Jewel frowned. “Lady Copeland, what do I have to be discreet about? Do you think people will gossip if they notice our strong resemblance?”

Keefe Connellan exhaled loudly. “You bet your life they will. It’s impossible to miss.”

“Do you think so? They’d have to be looking for a hidden mystery then,” Jewel said. “However, it hardly matters, since I don’t move in Lady Copeland’s circles.”

“No doubt Skinner hoped to change that?” He spoke so sharply his words gave Jewel a twinge of fear.

They stared at each other like combatants, neither yielding, both tense. “No need to investigate Blair Skinner,” Jewel said firmly. “He never puts a foot wrong.”

“You mean so far,” Connellan returned curtly. “Playing us for fools would guarantee disaster.” He moved then, touching Lady Copeland’s delicate shoulder. “I think we should go, Davina. Jacob will take you home and drop me on the way. I have an appointment with Drew Westaway uptown. I’d break it, but it’s critical.” He glanced at Jewel, brilliant black eyes narrowed. “You can inform your boss we’re leaving,” he said, his face taut.

“If that’s what you want. Let me say again that I deeply regret any upset I may unwittingly have caused you, Lady Copeland. I’ll speak of it to no one.”

Connellan laughed—an attractive if discordant sound. “That’s a bit rich. Skinner can’t wait to discuss this.”

“What do you expect, given your attack on me? Naturally I have to say something.”

“Of course. Is your mother in on this, too?”

Nothing so far had prepared Jewel for that. She went white. “My mother is a very sick woman, so watch it, Mr. Connellan. I’d just love to slap you again.”

“Only this time, I’ll deal with it,” he promised, gently propelling Lady Copeland to the door.

Nearing it, Lady Copeland paused. “If I asked you to come and visit me, would you consider it, Eugenie?” Her still-beautiful face revealed a strange longing.