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
