4 4 Proposal (AVOT)

For a moment, excitement filled the room at the prospect of a potential marriage with the Marquess of Blackthorne. However, the excitement was short-lived as the family quickly remembered the rumors surrounding him and his mysterious skin disease. Cassandra's face paled, her earlier enthusiasm evaporating.

"Father. No!" Cassandra said, her voice trembling. "Everyone knows about Lord Blackthorne's condition. How could he even consider sending such a proposal?"

Condition.

Daisy fumbled with her fingers, knowing she had touched him, and she was just fine. Was it because she washed it off? A one-time luck? Or was it simply just a rumor, although she couldn't understand why such a rumor would persist when he could easily shut the rumors down with one simple appearance?

Thomas' face hardened. "That is nothing but rumors," he said. "Don't you see the opportunity here? He is the Marquess!"

An opportunity indeed, but did he see her sister, or was it her careless mention of her stepsister's name to Lord Blackthorne that brought about this situation? Daisy hoped for the latter, although the thought sent shivers down her spine. There was something about him that alarmed her.

"But father…" Cassandra cried. "Even if his disease is only rumored, everyone knows he is a recluse. And have you seen him? He looks horrible." She shivered, and then her face twisted with disgust. "You want me to marry a man with such skin?" She almost spat the words.

"It is not time to be shallow, Cassandra. You must at least meet him and consider his proposal." Thomas said, annoyed.

Cassandra looked at her mother for help.

"Thomas," Katherine began softly. "We don't know much about the man, and we can not say his condition is just a rumor. Everyone knows that the Blackthorne family has this disease in their bloodline. You should at least investigate before sacrificing our daughter."

In their bloodline?

Daisy just remembered that the previous Marquess also had this skin disease. Those who knew him before his demise said that he had the exact same skin color, and those he touched, also acquired the same traits. The skin disease also made them sensitive to the sun.

Thomas became thoughtful and then nodded. "I'll meet with Lord Blackthorne."

Daisy hoped her father would reject the proposal and then no one would have to know about her encounter with him, and Lord Blackthorne would never find out she lied to him. Yet, she couldn't help but feel curious if it was indeed her he had in mind. What did he see in her?

"Where could he have seen me, anyway?" Cassandra now mused aloud, her curiosity piqued despite her apprehension. She played with a lock of her golden hair.

No one in the family had an answer for that.

"You know, it's quite impressive," she continued, her tone shifting from fearful to proud. "The Marquess of Blackthorne, one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the kingdom, has taken an interest in me. Was he stunned by my beauty or charmed by my elegance?"

Daisy tried not to roll her eyes, but Lila did, clearly unimpressed by her sister's boastfulness. "Yes, Cassandra, we all know how lovely you think you are," she said sarcastically. "But you're forgetting the most important part—he's a recluse with a terrible skin condition."

Cassandra's face fell, and she sighed. "I know, Lila. But still, it's flattering, isn't it? It is sad that I don't find him equally flattering. I feel bad about it, you know. It isn't his fault."

Oh, how thoughtful of you, Daisy muttered under her breath.

"Well, dear Cassandra. It seems you can attract a nobleman after all. You will see that after this proposal, many more will come, and you can find one who is handsome and has a good reputation." Katherine smiled.

Lila crossed her arms over her chest, clearly jealous of the attention her sister was getting. She turned to her father instead, "Father, what is in that chest? You haven't opened it."

Thomas grabbed the small chest and lifted the lock. His eyes widened, and the girls gathered around him. Cassandra's eyes almost fell off when she saw what was inside, and Katherine gasped.

Daisy, who remained in the same place, became curious. What was it?

Cassandra quickly reached inside and pulled out a necklace. Daisy didn't have to be close to see the large sapphire stones and the diamonds.

Lila pulled out another one with emerald stones. Both were sets, and Katherine and her daughters drooled over them.

Helena joined her daughter and watched from a distance, wondering what was going on.

"These are for me," Cassandra beamed.

Not really, Daisy thought. If Lord Blackthorne was mistaking her for Cassandra, then those jewels would be hers. Daisy thought of how only one of those stones could change her life, and for a brief moment, she wondered what life with Lord Blackthorne would be like.

She remembered his gleaming skin, and those golden eyes but she also remembered how she felt around him. His presence made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Thomas stood up from his seat and took the jewelry from his wife and daughters before putting them back in his chest. "You have not accepted his proposal, yet." He said.

Cassandra looked at him baffled. "Father!"

Katherine came to her daughter's support. "It would still be rude to return gifts," she remarked.

"No, it would be rude to refuse his proposal." Thomas corrected. "The least we can do is to return the gifts if I decline his offer." He locked his gaze on Cassandra. "I hope I will not have to."

Cassandra had nothing to say, and they all watched their father leave the parlor and go into his office.

"Oh, what a dreadful day," Katherine said dramatically. Then she slapped her daughter on the arm. "Where have you been sneaking around for him to have seen you?"

Daisy didn't care to hear their argument and went back to sweeping the floor. Her thoughts went in a thousand directions. Was Lord Blackthorne asking for her hand? If so, why? They had only met once.

The more she thought about it, the more doubtful she became. Perhaps, it was truly Cassandra he was asking for. She was a beauty with bright blue eyes and long golden hair. She had unblemished porcelain skin that flushed easily and a delicate heart-shaped face.

Daisy's shoulders dropped. If he was looking for marriage, then he couldn't have a contagious skin disease. Perhaps that part was a rumor.

In the background, Cassandra was still talking about the mysterious Marquess.

"If he just socialized more and didn't look so terrible," she sighed. "Imagine all the wealth. But I cannot marry him. Imagine what people would say. Imagine what our children would look like!" She panicked. "Oh no!"

Daisy knew Cassandra would talk about this forever. She was flattered the Marquess had chosen her. She was enjoying the attention, even though she didn't like him. The day went on with her babbling on and on about how she was chosen, and Daisy was happy once nighttime arrived and she could retire to her room.

Her mother had already placed her mattress near the hearth, and Daisy went to make her bed for the night. "Mother?"

"Yes."

"What do you think of Lord Blackthorne?" She asked.

"I haven't heard much about him," Helena replied.

"Would you let me marry him if he had asked for my hand?" Daisy wondered.

"Well, I know you, and I know the high society is not to your liking. You like simplicity and freedom." She replied, calmly.

Daisy was struck by her words. She had been so caught up in vengeance that she really didn't think about what she truly desired. Deep down, she yearned for what she thought her parents had. Love. But there was no such thing. Now she just wanted to marry to get away from this hell.

"Yes. I just want a simple man. I asked father to look for one for me;" she told her mother.

"You did?" Helena looked at her surprised.

"Yes. I think it is better to get married sooner than later. At least now I have my youth to offer a man."

Helena frowned. "You have much more to offer, Daisy. I will make sure you marry no less than you deserve."

Daisy forced a smile and said nothing.

While her mother tried to keep a positive attitude, her father sat troubled in his office. He was nervous to meet the Marquess. There was no way he could deny his offer. The man had the power to destroy their lives if he so wished, and he didn't know how he would address the issue of his disease without offending him.

Riddled with the burden of this proposal, he went to sleep. The following morning, he woke up with a plan. He wasn't sure it would work, but he could at least try. With his plan ready, he left to meet Lord Blackthorne.

As the carriage pulled up to Lord Blackthorne's estate, Thomas couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. The mansion loomed before him, an imposing structure of dark stone that seemed to rise from the very earth itself. The mansion was surrounded by a large garden, mostly of roses. Red and white roses and the garden was surrounded by a dense, gloomy forest that cast eerie shadows across the grounds, only adding to the sense of foreboding that Thomas felt.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Thomas watched as the carriage came to a stop in front of the grand entrance. The massive wooden doors creaked open, revealing a pair of impeccably dressed servants who greeted him with a respectful bow.

"Welcome, Sir Thomas," one of the servants said, his voice smooth and polished. It seemed as if they had been waiting for him.

"I am here to meet Lord Blackthorne. I hope I am not too early," Thomas said.

"Not at all. Please, allow me to show you inside." The servant led the way, and Thomas followed. With each step deeper into the mansion, a chilling air enveloped him, and the interior's dim lighting only heightened his discomfort.

The servant guided him to the living room and motioned for him to sit. "Lord Blackthorne shall be here soon. What can I serve you in the meantime? Coffee? Tea? Wine?"

"Tea is fine, thank you." Thomas replied.

The servant left with a bow, and Thomas took a deep breath, trying to settle into the couch. As he waited for Lord Blackthorne, he couldn't shake the eerie feeling that seemed to pervade the entire estate.

As he tried to compose himself, the door to the living room creaked open, and Lord Blackthorne entered. Thomas's hands grew cold instantly, as if the man's presence alone had drained him of blood. The Marquess was tall and finely built, dressed in well-tailored clothing that covered him from head to toe. His hands were gloved. Was his sickness contagious, as the rumors claimed?

Thomas felt an inexplicable mixture of curiosity and dread as Lord Blackthorne approached. The Marquess moved with a fluid grace that was both mesmerizing and unnerving. Thomas stood to greet him.

"Welcome to my estate, Sir Thomas," Lord Blackthorne greeted him, his voice smooth and as cold as the air in the room. "I trust you had a pleasant journey?"

Thomas swallowed, trying to push down the unease that clawed at him. "Yes, thank you, my lord," he replied, attempting to keep his voice steady.

Lord Blackthorne gestured for him to sit again, and Thomas obeyed, trying to maintain his composure.

Seeing the Marquess up close for the first time, Thomas couldn't help but examine his face. Except for his odd skin color, there was no disfiguration. In fact, he would be considered handsome if not for the strange metallic hue that covered him.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Thomas carefully considered his words before speaking. He wanted to address the matter of the marriage proposal without offending the Marquess.

"Lord Blackthorne," Thomas began, his tone respectful and cautious, "I am deeply honored by your interest in our family and your generous proposal for my daughter, Cassandra. It is not every day that such an esteemed individual shows interest in one's family, and I am truly grateful for your consideration."

Thomas paused for a moment, trying to gauge the Marquess's reaction before continuing. "However, I must confess, my lord, that I am somewhat surprised by this turn of events. I am curious as to how you came to know of Cassandra and what has prompted your interest in her. Please do not misunderstand me, I only wish to understand the situation better so that I can properly discuss it with my family and ensure that we are all on the same page."

The Marquess regarded Thomas with a calm, measured gaze, seemingly unfazed by the question. As he prepared to respond, he slowly and deliberately removed his gloves, revealing his gray skin underneath. The gesture alarmed Thomas. It was as if the man casually prepared to put him in danger at the wrong word. He swallowed hard.

Lord Blackthorne's lips curved up in a mysterious smile. "Sir Thomas, I believe you have raised your daughter well, and as a man of my title, I wish to have a wife suitable for such a role. I believe your daughter has the grace and dignity of a Marchioness."

Thomas began to sweat. There was no way he could plainly refuse this proposal after the man's flattery. "I am glad to hear that. I find Cassandra rather difficult, a little rash, and immature at times." He joked. "She is the one who gives me the hardest time." He chuckled nervously.

"Interesting," Lord Blackthorne said with a slight smile, but before he could say anything else, Thomas continued. He wanted to make his case before the Marquess dug a deeper grave for him.

"I have two other daughters, my lord. My oldest daughter is the most refined. I apologize for trying to change your mind. I am merely doing my job as a father, ensuring the well-being of my eldest daughter first. I understand you are interested in Cassandra, but if you would allow me to introduce you to my daughter Daisy..."

Lord Blackthorne's face hardened, and Thomas became afraid he had crossed a line. Before his fate was sealed, he quickly reached inside his bag and decided to proceed with his plan to the fullest, now that he had already angered the Marquess. He pulled out the portrait of Daisy.

"Before you deny my request, my lord, please," he said, extending the portrait.

Lord Blackthorne's eyes darkened with an unspoken threat, and Thomas held his breath as he awaited the Marquess's response. After what felt like an eternity, Lord Blackthorne reached out and took the portrait from Thomas's hand without looking at it. With apparent disinterest, he glanced down at the picture, but then, something changed.

Though the Marquess maintained an inscrutable demeanor, there was a subtle shift in his posture, a certain intensity in his eyes that suggested he was not entirely indifferent to what he saw. Thomas couldn't quite decipher what was going on behind Lord Blackthorne's carefully composed facade, but he suspected that Daisy's portrait might have made an impression on the Marquess, especially since he stared at it for a while.

"She is even more lovely in person," Thomas said.

Lord Blackthorne continued to gaze at the portrait, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment, he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself, "Indeed, she possesses a rare beauty."

Thomas breathed out in relief. He had just solved two problems at once. Daisy wanted him to find her a husband after all, and Cassandra didn't want Lord Blackthorne.

Now only for the next issue.

"Lord Blackthorne," Thomas began tentatively, "I hope you will not take offense at my concern for my daughters' well-being. As a father, it is my duty to ensure their happiness and safety. There are... rumors about your condition, and I would be remiss not to address them. Can you please put my mind at ease regarding the nature of your... ailment?"

Thomas held his breath, hoping his question would not provoke the Marquess's ire.

Lord Blackthorne looked up from the portrait, his expression inscrutable.

"I understand your concern as a father, however, I must also ask you to understand that the matter of my condition is a personal and sensitive one. I can assure you, though, that I would never knowingly put anyone, especially my potential wife, in harm's way."

Thomas relaxed, understanding it as contagion just being a rumor. Of course. He knew already.

Lord Blackthorne put the portrait beside him on the table instead of giving it back. Then he folded his hands. "I look forward to meeting Miss…"

"Daisy," Thomas said.

"Daisy," he repeated, his eyes gleaming with mysterious intent.