Chapter Seven.
Lyra
I was barely aware of William picking me up and carrying me down the stairs to my bedroom.
“Stay here,” he whispered as he tucked me back up and left the room. Minutes later, William returned with a cup of hot chocolate and placed it beside me.
“Don’t leave me,” I begged, and William paused. He nodded stiffly and sat in the small armchair I’d bought.
“We have to figure out what this is,” I murmured, picking the mug up and cupping it.
William gave me an incredulous look. “Pardon?”
“We need to determine what happened and what that creature is.”
“That? What I just fought? It’s called a shade,” William said confidently and scowled. “And don’t ask me how I know that. That was a manifestation that the evil produced to attack you. It considers you the weak link.”
“There’s a library in town. They might have old records.”
“Lyra…”
“No. Don’t you understand, William? I need Leafpoint. She’s mine. Another man took everything from me. My dignity, self-respect, reputation, and confidence. I won’t lose her.”
William sighed. “Fine. Do some digging, but this monster is just beginning to start trouble.”
“Why now?”
“That’s a question I’ve asked many times and still lack an answer to.”
“Has there been a local shipwreck? Something that might have woken it up?”
“No. Shipwrecks have happened throughout the years; it has never stirred until recently. The only things of note are Ajax and you returning home.”
I sat up. “Me or the four Jasper daughters?”
William frowned. “You consider that to be important.”
“Hmm, not sure, but I know someone who might have answers,” I replied, thinking of Mrs Penrose.
“Well, it’s too late to act now. Lyra, I shall let you sleep,” William said awkwardly.
Panic rushed through me. “No, you must not leave me!” I cried.
“It is not suitable that I’m in here…”
“William. It’s not frowned upon these days, and we’re not doing anything. Please, I feel safer with you,” I murmured.
William struggled and then settled back down. “Sleep, Lyra,” he said wearily.
I woke up feeling better than I had yesterday. Quickly showering and dressing, I headed downstairs. William sat at the kitchen table with my laptop open, frowning at the blank screen.
“How do you make this magic work?” he inquired, puzzled.
“It’s a device. Not magic. Look, press this.” I showed him the ‘on’ button, and William jumped back as the display loaded.
“Lyra, I need whale oil. I’ve seen you type into this thing and items appear the next day,” he said.
“Um, that’s a banned substance now.”
“What?” William turned to me incredulously. “How do I fuel the lantern?”
“Refined liquid paraffin is used in non-electrical lighthouses. I did some research when I had a chance. Let me check. Yes, here, see? Nothing needs adjusting as long as you have an Argand lamp installed.”
“Yeah, Leafpoint has that. How do we purchase this?”
“It comes in barrels. I can place an order,” I replied.
“So much has changed. How are you purchasing this?”
“It’s called online shopping.”
For the next hour, I answered William’s questions about the internet and how it worked.
I left him with my laptop while he pored over the interactive world map.
I lay on the sofa, scanning a book, but I was becoming antsy.
Nobody was going anywhere today; the snow had dumped another six inches, and it was still falling.
Finally, after reading the same page five times, I got up, headed upstairs, and dressed warmly.
“Where are you off to?” William demanded as I entered the kitchen.
“For a short walk. Want to come?”
“No, I can’t leave Leafpoint.”
“Since when. You chased that spirit the other night,” I replied, and William looked stunned. “You’d not realised?”
“No. I just acted. Would you be content to stroll with me?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You are a Jasper, and I am a lighthouse keeper. We are of different classes,” William pointed out stiffly.
My eyes widened, and I began to laugh. “William, I’m probably more working-class than you are. Come on. Let’s head out.”
It was late afternoon, and the sky was a little brighter than it had been yesterday.
The snow fell light and fluffy, but wrapped up, I didn’t feel the cold.
The air was fresh and biting, and as I drew it into my lungs, it stung a bit, but it was soothing.
We walked along the coast, and I explained my working-class status.
“I do not understand. How did you lose the title?” William finally asked.
“Huh. I never considered that. But from what I know of nobility, it could be possible that the title passed to the nearest male heir while the estate remained within Charles’s direct line.
That has happened in the past. I can call Joseph tomorrow and ask him,” I replied, almost confident that I was correct.
“Joseph?”
“The solicitor managing the inheritance and trusts.”
“I see.”
“Are you always so stuffy?” I asked.
“Stuffy?”
“Uptight, rigid. Don’t you bend, William. Do you know how to have fun?”
A snowball smacked me in the face, and I spluttered in shock.
“What was that?” I shrieked.
William looked worried, and then I threw my own snowball in retaliation. He laughed and tossed another at me. For the next ten minutes we fought, laughing and yelping as we did. Finally, we stopped.
“We had better head back. I need to prepare the lamp,” William said.
“Okay.” I smiled. It was the first genuine smile in forever. It didn’t last. My phone rang as we neared the lighthouse, and I frowned when I recognised the office number.
“Hello?” I answered cautiously.
“Miss Jasper?”
“Yes, this is Lyra.”
“Miss Jasper, this is Helen from HR. I’m sure you know why we’re calling,” she snapped angrily.
“Actually, no, I don’t. My resignation was emailed and stated that I didn’t expect holiday pay for the holidays I didn’t take. That was fair considering my lack of notice.”
“This isn’t about that. It’s about the files you stole. Those are confidential company products, and we demand them back.”
“I beg your pardon,” I said, coming to a stop.
William paused beside me, looking concerned.
“The Sinclair, Harrison, and Danish projects. We understand you took them out of spite,” Helen declared.
“Oh, I did? And you’ve checked CCTV?”
“We have statements from Serena and Cale. We’ve been made aware that because of your breakup, you spitefully set out to destroy them and brought drama into the workplace.”
“My solicitor shall be in contact with you. Be certain about these allegations, because you will regret them,” I said and put the phone down, shaking.
“What are you going to do? That sounded serious,” William asked, brushing my hair away from my face.
“Call Joseph; he’ll know what to do.”
The good mood soured; we headed inside.
Two days later, I waited calmly in the reception area of my former workplace. The receptionist kept scowling at me as I texted Thea.
Helen, along with director Mark, emerged from the opened door. Behind them stood Cale and Serena, looking smug.
“Miss Jasper. I don’t see the files,” Mark said, approaching.
“We’re waiting for my legal representative. Don’t talk to me without him,” I answered and returned to texting.
“Excuse me?” Mark sounded outraged.
I looked at Mark, quaking inside but outwardly calm. “Considering Helen’s slander and grave accusations, we are waiting for my solicitor.”
“What are you talking about, Lyra? Just give us back the files and stop trying to make Serena appear inept!” Cale snapped.
I glanced at Cale, snorted and returned to messaging Thea.
“Serena doesn’t need my help to be incompetent, as you’ll soon find out.”
Casually, I smoothed my dress down, catching Serena’s gaze. Serena’s eyes narrowed as she took it in. No doubt she realised it was designer.
Joseph arrived ten minutes later; it was a power play and one I welcomed. He entered with several men and women behind him.
“What’s this?” Mark spluttered, looking shocked.
“Joseph Fanshaw, of Fanshaw, Parker, and Dawson. This is my secretary, and other solicitors who are present as witnesses. Now, without further ado, I’d like the allegation repeated that Helen Place made about my client,” Joseph said.
“Fanshaw, Parker, and Dawson?” Mark asked and swallowed. Yes, he’d heard of them. Joseph had informed me that his law firm was well known. It seemed he was right.
“How can Lyra afford you? This is bull. Who are these fakes?” Cale demanded.
“The allegation.” Joseph snapped his fingers.
“Miss Jasper has misplaced…”
“No. That isn’t what you accused Miss Jasper of.” Joseph turned a stern glance on Helen, who swallowed. “Your wording was that Miss Jasper has stolen several files out of spite. Because she had been dumped.”
“Maybe I ought to get my legal counsel down,” Mark said, looking worried.
“Perhaps you should have considered them before making baseless allegations,” Joseph shot back.
“Lyra is guilty!” Serena shouted. “Lyra stole them to make me appear bad. All because Cale fell in love with me and not the frump she is.”
“Frump?” Joseph repeated, amused. “Wearing a Miss Mystique dress? I very much doubt that. However, we have noted the allegation and the phrasing. May we proceed?” Joseph looked at those accompanying him, who nodded.
“Where?” Mark asked, clearly confused.
“The office,” I replied and began walking off.
Everyone followed me. As we entered the floor, everyone’s eyes turned to me. At first, sneers and derision greeted me. Then they faded at the team behind my back.
I walked to the centre of the room, clenching my hands. “I won’t approach the files. Mark, can you tell me the name of the Sinclair project?” I asked.
“The Marina Shuttle,” Mark replied.
“Please access the filing cabinet which contains the Ms. Not the Ts or Ss,” I sniped at Serena, who paled.
“Now go to the back for MS.” Swallowing hard, Mark held up the Sinclair file.