This made the butler, who was still hesitating whether to report Amelia Shaw’s illness, feel as if he had seen a savior!
"Young Master, you’re back!"
The butler stepped forward a few paces, his voice urgent. "Miss Shaw has fallen ill..."
Thomas Shannon strode rapidly upstairs. Pausing on a step, he turned his head. "What did you say?"
The butler raised a hand, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. "Miss Shaw has fallen ill and is still unconscious," he said.
"What happened?" Thomas Shannon’s eyes darkened slightly.
"She has a high fever that won’t go down. She... she keeps calling your name." The butler then asked cautiously, "Would you like to go and see Miss Shaw?"
After a moment’s hesitation, Thomas Shannon’s brow furrowed. His voice, characteristically icy and unreadable, said, "Lead the way."
The butler led Thomas Shannon to the servants’ quarters where Amelia Shaw was staying.
In her room, Thomas Shannon saw Amelia Shaw lying unconscious.
Her face was flushed, her lips dry and peeling. Damp, sticky hair clung to her forehead and cheeks, evidently soaked with sweat.
"How long has it been?"
"Young Master, it has been one day and one night."
Thomas Shannon’s thin lips pressed into a line. He went to the bedside, sat down, and tentatively raised his hand to feel her temperature.
The scorching temperature transferred from her skin to his hand.
He frowned fiercely. "Where’s the doctor? Call the doctor!"
"Young Master, the doctor has already given Miss Shaw a fluid transfusion, but it’s no use. The high fever still hasn’t subsided." The butler was at his wit’s end.
It’s impossible to keep her on a fluid transfusion for 24 hours; her body wouldn’t be able to take it.
"Pour a cup of water and give me a cotton swab."
When the butler understood what Young Master Shannon intended, he immediately turned, poured a cup of water, and also fetched a sterilized cotton swab for him.
Thomas Shannon’s expression was inscrutable. He took the cotton swab and the cup of water, then moistened Amelia Shaw’s lips with the dampened swab.
The cool sensation caused Amelia Shaw’s tightly furrowed brow to show signs of relaxing.
Thomas Shannon freed one hand and gently patted her cheek. "Samuel, wake up."
Amelia Shaw, delirious with fever, vaguely heard a distant yet familiar voice, as if echoing in her ears.
Alone, she navigated through layers of dense mist, finally reaching the source of the voice.
Pushing aside the mist, she finally saw the person before her.
It was him, Thomas Shannon.
She excitedly grabbed his hand, exclaiming, "Thomas..."
Hearing Amelia Shaw call his name even in her delirium, Thomas Shannon’s gaze was complex. He watched her intently for a long while before resuming moistening her lips with the damp cotton swab.
The butler quietly left the room, leaving the space for the two of them.
Sophie Sullivan was alone in the spacious suite, completely uninterested in the vacation.
No, to be precise, she had no interest in vacationing alone.
Thomas Shannon abandoning her and leaving by himself made her very upset!
After her indignation, she began to reflect.
But why was he angry?
She had only played a little prank. Was he angry just because of that?
He had no magnanimity at all!
Sophie Sullivan lay languidly on the chaise lounge on the balcony, eating fresh fruit and gazing absently at the azure sky.
Thomas Shannon, mark my words!
Leaving her to vacation by herself, was he?
Fine. She’d actually be glad to have her own space to think quietly, undisturbed by anyone.