Pampered by My Secret Husband

Chapter 169: Chapter 169: Your Hobby Is Really Unique

She picked a flower, pinching its petals and plucking them off one by one as the melancholy in her heart gradually deepened.

She sat in the flower garden for more than ten minutes. It was a midsummer night; though the sun’s scorching daytime heat had passed, a stuffy warmth still lingered. The buzzing of mosquitoes filled her ears, and her legs were covered with terribly itchy bites.

Sophie Sullivan scratched for a while until anger suddenly surged within her. Why should *I* be out here feeding mosquitoes while that damn couple gets to be all lovey-dovey in the castle?

That’s right! In Sophie Sullivan’s mind, Thomas Shannon and Amelia Shaw were indeed a despicable couple. One, though rejected, still carried a torch; the other had rejected her backup admirer, only to shamelessly pursue him again. Each was more disgusting than the last.

Sophie Sullivan shot to her feet and stormed out of the flower garden, heading straight for the castle.

As soon as she stepped indoor, the refreshing and fragrant aroma of tea greeted her. A tea set was laid out on the tea table. Amelia Shaw was making tea with elegant movements while Thomas Shannon watched her, his gaze intent.

The scene was surprisingly harmonious—so harmonious that Sophie Sullivan almost swallowed the ”damn couple” curse she was about to utter in her mind.

Hearing the footsteps, Thomas Shannon raised his eyelids slightly. He looked at her with some surprise and asked, ”Where did you go?”

His mellow voice, rich with its characteristic deep magnetism, flowed slowly and gently, like a musical note landing softly on the heart, unexpectedly sending a pleasant thrill through her.

”Feeding mosquitoes,” Sophie Sullivan replied curtly, heading straight for the staircase without a sideways glance.

Only then did Thomas Shannon notice that her slender, fair, exposed calves were covered in small red bumps.

Thomas Shannon chuckled. ”You certainly have a unique hobby.”

Unique, my ass!

Sophie Sullivan snorted coldly and stomped upstairs, each heavy step making a loud thud.

Amelia Shaw remained entirely unaffected. Her tea-making movements were still elegant, like a scene from a painting—a visual delight to behold.

Once the tea was ready, she offered a cup to Thomas Shannon. ”Thomas, see if my skills have gotten rusty.”

Thomas Shannon took the cup, inhaled its fragrance for a moment, then leisurely took a sip. The tea’s aroma filled his mouth.

”Not bad.”

Amelia Shaw smiled shyly, then poured herself a cup and began to savor it.

After finishing his tea, Thomas Shannon rose, ready to leave.

Amelia Shaw stood up too, wanting to call out to him, but then she seemed to recall something and stopped herself. She sat back down, her gaze resting blankly on the tea cup before her. A bitter smile touched her lips.

Thomas Shannon glanced back and saw her looking lost in sorrow. His brow furrowed slightly as he called out, ”Samuel.”

Amelia Shaw looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ”Hmm?”

”Rest early.”

Amelia Shaw was taken aback for a moment, a wave of bitterness spreading through her heart. ”Okay.”

With that, Thomas Shannon went upstairs.

Sophie Sullivan was in the bath chamber, taking a bath. Unfortunately, the mosquito bites on her legs were maddening; the more she scratched, the worse they itched, and they itched even when she tried not to. I’m going insane!

In a foul mood, everything irritated her. After her bath, she stormed out of the bath chamber, fuming. Seeing Thomas Shannon push open the door and enter, she shot him an annoyed stare, then went back to her bed and flopped down, pretending to sleep.

Thomas Shannon was baffled. He saw her lying with her eyes closed, yet her hand was incessantly scratching her calves.

”Bitten by mosquitoes?”

”Isn’t that obvious?” Sophie Sullivan’s tone was sharp. If I hadn’t been bitten, would I be scratching like this?

Thomas Shannon’s cold eyes narrowed. ”What’s gotten into you? Did you swallow a bullet or something?”

Such an aggressive tone. Who does she think she is, acting like someone owes her? She’s like a little maniac, ready to snap at anyone!

”I haven’t swallowed any bullets, but I’ve certainly had my fill of gunpowder,” she retorted.