Chapter 9: The Atypical Family

Ashley’s POV

"Then you'll be the happiest widow in the world, won't you? You did say those words to me on our wedding night."

Maybe it was the way his lips brushed my ear sweetly as if the words he’d just uttered were in the most scathing tone I’d ever heard, or the lazy smile that followed as he stepped back but I could only stare at him, stunned as he climbed onto his horse and charged into the world, following in the wake of Adam and Thomas.

What sort of married life was Ashton living with this man? It shouldn't be any of my business but with each interaction, I was more curious.

As I turned to rejoin the others under the canopy, who were already engaged in animated conversation with Margaret while Alfred was engrossed in a book, a cold dread settled in the pit of my stomach.

Something had not been right with that map, and the more I pictured it in my mind, the more certain I became of my suspicions.

Returning to the map stand, I found the steward watching me as I advanced towards him, shifting from one foot to the other nervously as I approached. "I'd kike to have a word with you.” I started, keeping my tone neutral and he nodded almost too eagerly.

“What would you like to know, my lady?”

“Is it possible that the maps were altered?" I asked, my voice steady despite the churning in my stomach.

He froze and opened his mouth to respond, hesitating slightly with his eyes darting around nervously. "No, ma'am. The maps are accurate," he replied, his words hurried but pitched higher than usual; a telltale sign that he wasn’t honest.

I leaned in closer, attempting to make my voice sound menacing. “Your facial expression begs to differ. Now, you have a choice; to tell me what actually is going on here. If you don't tell me the truth, I can assure you, I will find a way to have you removed from this position. And if you think I'm bluffing, I can be very persuasive."

His eyes widened in fear. "Master Andreas's map was altered slightly," he confessed, his voice trembling. "It's become a tradition of sorts. His older siblings enjoy making his route and tasks more challenging each year."

"And what does that mean?" I pressed, my brows furrowing in confusion.

"As long as he stays on the marked path, he should be fine, even though his route might be more tedious than the others. There are no dangerous animals in the designated hunting area," he explained.

His answer was supposed to reassure me but instead, I found myself reaching into my pocket for my phone and dialing Ashton's number. The call went straight to voicemail. Did my twin sister really plan to leave me with her family this entire weekend by myself even though she promised to always stay in contact? Of course, she did. Typical Ashton to never keep to the promises she made.

Checking our message history for her husband’s contact which she’d sent to me, I dialed his number and it didn't go through.

“If you're trying to call Master Andreas, I'm afraid that it might not go through. The service is not so good in the middle of the woods,” The steward whispered, quickly shutting his mouth when I leveled him with a glare.

Turning to the large table behind me where other maps were spread out, I grabbed another copy. "Mark the original route and the altered route with different colors," I instructed the steward.

Eyes wide, the burly man stared at me, disbelief and something akin to fear flashing across his face. "You want to venture into the woods? Women don't usually go on hunts," he exclaimed. 

"Then maybe it's time for that to change," I replied, my voice firm. "Or perhaps you'd prefer I march over to that table and paint you in a light that isn't very favorable."

He nodded, his hands shaking as he complied. As he worked, I studied the map, trying to identify any potential differences in both routes. 

Why was I even doing any of this?

When the steward finished and handed me the canopy, I gestured towards the stables, “Find me a horse.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering between me and where the rest of the Thornes were seated. Finally, he sighed. "As you wish, ma’am" he muttered.

Returning to the table, I slid into my seat, my heart pounding with adrenaline. The silence was deafening, the only sound the soft music that played in the clearing and I took a deep breath, mentally asking myself again if it was really necessary for me to be so bothered about any of this when Ashton had only asked me to survive the weekend pretending to be her, but if Andreas was being treated unfairly, surely I couldn't look away, even though he had a personality as cold as ice.

“You look like you have something to say,” Amarinth drawled, her brows raised as she gave me a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Well, here goes nothing.

“I have reason to believe that my husband’s map was altered and that he was given a more tedious route than the other men,” I said, keeping my tone casual even though I wanted to cringe at the fact that I'd just referred to Andreas as my husband.

The silence in the circle was deafening and I studied everyone’s reactions. While Annabel was the only one who looked remotely interested in what I'd just said, Margaret and Alfred looked like I'd just told them that the sky was blue. Amarinth narrowed her eyes at me while Sansa seemed to suddenly fixate on her nails.

Alfred folded the newspaper he was reading, his gaze settling on me, "Andreas is a capable man. I chose him as my heir for a reason. He will be fine," His voice was steady, his tone showing no hint of surprise at what should have been a serious accusation.

Looking around again, I realized that the aura of indifference I'd perceived after my allegation remained, as if such incidents were a common occurrence.

What kind of family had my sister married into?