Chapter 94

Ashton was already moving before the maid had finished speaking. He took the stairs four at a time and reached the second floor in a matter of seconds. Not stopping to catch his breath, he shoved open the bedroom door. Mirabelle was buried under a pile of thick duvets, face flushed scarlet. Her skin had been bloodless just half an hour ago, ghost-pale and ice-cold after she’d nearly drowned. Now she looked like she was overheating from the inside out. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut. ‘She started heating up a while ago,’ the maid behind him stammered. ‘I got a thermometer and… it’s forty degrees and climbing.’ Ashton strode over, pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. She wasn’t just burning up; her skin was scalding. He just picked her up—duvet and all—cradled her to his chest, and turned on his heel. ‘Hospital. Now.’ Downstairs, the room buzzed with shocked whispers, but Ashton barely registered them. He swept through the hallway, his footsteps thudding over the marble floor,