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,
