That certainly hadn't been the response Brannon was expecting. Truth be told, he hadn't really expected anyone to ever come around asking to court Zelda. His youngest child was trying, in every sense of the word; it seemed appropriate that she would stay here forever, just to continue giving him new reasons to worry well into his old age. He particularly hadn't expected anyone to come asking to court her now. Brannon had been approached by several young men seeking permission to court his daughters before this, and it had never come as a surprise. The way that young girls talked with their sisters, or their mother when she had been alive, Brannon felt as though he'd known every detail of his prospective sons-in-law before they'd ever arrived at the door. Zelda, although she was the proper age for this sort of thing, hadn't mentioned anyone — not, at any rate, since the conclusion of the Jameshill disaster.
But then, wasn't that just like Zelda? She had been the one accepting drinks from a strange man in the Casino, of all places, and Brannon had heard about that through the grapevine, not from her. Perhaps it wasn't so unusual that she had been utterly silent on the subject of this gentleman (Brannon used the word only for lack of a better term; there was nothing about his appearance that seemed particularly gentlemanly), but in any case, it did little to endear this stranger to Brannon.
He was about to ask if the man would care to introduce himself, but Ari had handled the introduction. Captain Darrow — the explorer! That certainly explained his appearance — how in the world had Zelda gotten herself mixed up with a sailor, of all things? She must have been hanging around in the Casino again, he reasoned. He would have to have a little chat with Mrs. Parkinson about the types of freedoms a girl of her age was allowed in the performance of her Ministry duties — she seemed to be using them quite liberally.
Brannon shot his daughter a look that made it clear there was a discussion to be had between the two of them before she retired for the evening, then turned his attention to the sailor. "How exactly did you meet my daughter?"
But then, wasn't that just like Zelda? She had been the one accepting drinks from a strange man in the Casino, of all places, and Brannon had heard about that through the grapevine, not from her. Perhaps it wasn't so unusual that she had been utterly silent on the subject of this gentleman (Brannon used the word only for lack of a better term; there was nothing about his appearance that seemed particularly gentlemanly), but in any case, it did little to endear this stranger to Brannon.
He was about to ask if the man would care to introduce himself, but Ari had handled the introduction. Captain Darrow — the explorer! That certainly explained his appearance — how in the world had Zelda gotten herself mixed up with a sailor, of all things? She must have been hanging around in the Casino again, he reasoned. He would have to have a little chat with Mrs. Parkinson about the types of freedoms a girl of her age was allowed in the performance of her Ministry duties — she seemed to be using them quite liberally.
Brannon shot his daughter a look that made it clear there was a discussion to be had between the two of them before she retired for the evening, then turned his attention to the sailor. "How exactly did you meet my daughter?"