She turned her head to look at the maids behind her, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "All of you, attack together."
The maids, with an imposing air, charged Sophie Sullivan in unison.
Sophie Sullivan knew she was outnumbered. She loosened her grip on the maid she held, pushed her forward, and then slipped away through the opening.
Minimus Hart remained unfazed. "Catch her!"
"Yes." The maids lifted their skirt hems and pursued her.
Young Master Thomas Shannon had just pulled Harry into his arms when he heard a flurry of chaotic footsteps approaching.
Looking up, he saw the maniac running down the staircase, stumbling as she went.
She looked utterly disheveled as she fled.
"Maniac," Thomas Shannon’s cold eyes narrowed, his tone unconsciously chilling by several degrees, "what are you doing?"
Sophie Sullivan, heedless of the consequences, ran straight to Thomas Shannon’s side, the maids chasing her down from behind.
Meeting Thomas Shannon’s icy gaze, they all grew uneasy and bowed their heads respectfully. "Young Master, she refuses to take a bath."
Sophie Sullivan stood before Thomas Shannon, her voice defiant. "Why should I let them help me bathe?"
What a joke! Letting these women help her bathe—she had no such disgusting fetish. Wasn’t it just a bath? Was she missing arms and legs that she couldn’t wash herself? Did she really need their help?
Thomas Shannon released Harry and, in one swift motion, grabbed Sophie Sullivan’s wrist. The force of his pull sent her tumbling into his embrace.
"If you don’t like them helping you, then what do you want?"
Thomas Shannon picked up a strand of her hair, twirling it around his slender fingertips, and let out a soft laugh.
She really was stubborn. On this point, he had never misjudged her.
Sophie Sullivan struggled a couple of times, trying to free herself from his embrace, but Thomas Shannon’s arm held her fast, his eyes darkening. "What, haven’t you learned the rules yet?"
Obedience was simply not in her nature. Even if she feigned it, it was only ever a temporary pretense to achieve her own ends.
Sophie Sullivan calmed down and stopped struggling. "What do you want?"
"That’s a question I should be asking you."
When Minimus Hart came downstairs, he saw the scene before him: Sophie Sullivan sat on Thomas Shannon’s lap, her face cold and her expression petulant.
Upon seeing Minimus Hart descend, Sophie Sullivan raised her arms and wrapped them around Thomas Shannon’s neck.
Amused by her sudden display of affection, a smile touched Thomas Shannon’s eyes, and a roguish smirk played on his lips as he pinched her chin. "What trick are you up to now, hmm?"
Minimus Hart stepped forward, bowing his head respectfully. "Young Master, please administer punishment."
The other maids also stood behind Minimus Hart, requesting punishment for failing to complete their mission.
Sophie Sullivan sneered, her gaze shifting from Minimus Hart’s face to Thomas Shannon. "Young Master, aren’t you going to punish them yet?"
Weren’t they so bold upstairs just now? Why ask for punishment the moment they’re in front of Thomas Shannon? Fine, if they wanted to be punished, she’d happily oblige!
"They’re being punished because of you," Thomas Shannon reminded her.
Sophie Sullivan remained unconvinced, a flicker of contempt in her eyes. "So, Young Master, you’re still not going to punish them?"
Thomas Shannon’s brow furrowed. She’s too confrontational. His grip on her chin tightened. "Where are your manners?"
Manners? He wants manners, does he? That’s easy enough.
Sophie Sullivan abruptly unclasped her arms from his neck, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Young Master, hello. Young Master, goodbye!"
She pushed Thomas Shannon’s arm away and stood up, turning to leave.
Her departing figure was indeed strikingly resolute and carefree.