The Unknown Mr. Brown

by Sara Seale

  “I would have thought it wise unless you have come to the conclusion that Mr. Brown would provide a convenient let-out,” he said, but did not have the satisfaction of stirring up that flash of anger again.

  ‘That, of course, is a point of view,” Robert observed amicably. “Still, one must take chances in this life, mustn’t one? It would hardly be fair to my possible rival to use persuasion before he’s had a chance to reveal himself.”

  For a moment John did not speak but stood regarding the other man with hostile but puzzled eyes.

  “You’re a curious fellow,” he said then. “I believe you’re in love with that little girl after all. Why the hell don’t you put your cards on the table and end all this Mr. Brown nonsense?”

  “Because, nonsense or not, Mr. Brown has made his mark. Until she meets him Victoria will never be free of this image she has created for herself, and I prefer to compete with flesh and blood rather than an imagined father-figure.”

  “And if those proposed suggestions don’t turn out to be strictly paternal?”

  “My dear chap, your guess is as good as mine. Suppose we leave such contingencies until they materialise—and don’t, I beg you, offer well-meaning as well as professional advice when you go upstairs.”

  “And what of the possibilities of coercion from another quarter? I doubt if your elderly rival will be quite so particular in view of past benefits,” John retorted with some impatience. Robert merely shrugged and smiled a little enigmatically and the doctor turned on his heel.

  “Well, I’ll go up now and take a look at her,” he said a shade gruffly, “after which I would like a word with Kate in private.”

  “Yes, you do that. I will diplomatically take myself off to the nursery and amuse my godson, so don’t hurry away unless you have to,” Robert said, observing with wry amusement the dull flush creeping up the back of the doctor’s neck as he left the room.

  After John had visited her, Victoria lay in her bed listening to the comings and goings in the house and trying to guess what they portended. She heard Robert come up to the nursery where he seemed to remain for some time and, later, Kate’s voice on the stairs followed by the sharp little click the parlour door made when it was shut because the latch was faulty.

  She must have dozed off, for the daylight was nearly gone when she heard John drive off. She hoped Kate would come up and tell her how he had taken the news, forgetting that there had been no chance as yet to have her own surmises confirmed, but Kate did not come.

  She turned her face to the wall, feeling as she had at school when parents came down for special occasions and everybody seemed to have someone belonging except her. She remembered how Mr. Brown had gradually become a myth in whom no one believed very seriously, and her own hurt feelings at his continued disinterest. Well, she thought with renewed confidence, that was all changed now. Mr. Brown was not only about to declare himself, but clearly had definite plans for her future. It was distinctly comforting to know that although the Trust was coming to an end, it was possibly the beginning of a new relationship ...

  It was dark before anyone visited her. Elspeth had brought up a light supper and remained for a while to chat, but her thoughts must have been elsewhere, for she answered at random and did not even notice that Victoria’s wet clothes still lay in a sodden heap on the floor. When Kate finally came it was only to say good-night and enquire a little apologetically if there was anything she needed.

  “How’s Timmy?” Victoria asked, remembering that Kate must still hold her responsible for any harm that might have come to the boy, but Kate only laughed and replied rather absently that Timmy was making the most of his situation and she was afraid she had created rather a fuss about nothing.

  “In fact, my cunning son seems to think he was rather clever to hide and give you a fright, because it would make you change your mind,” she added, sounding suddenly mischievous, and Victoria sent her a puzzled glance. There was something different about Kate tonight; it was almost as if she was a schoolgirl again, nursing a secret which she had been forbidden to tell.

  “Change my mind?” she said guardedly.

  “About leaving us. I tried to explain about Mr. Brown, but he seems to think he’s a kind of wizard who’s put a spell on you, and in a sense, I suppose, he has. Poor Timmy! This will be his first lesson in playing second fiddle, but we all have to learn, don’t we?”

  Victoria eyed her uneasily. “Kate, you’re being very unlike yourself. Have you something you want to tell me?”

  “Nothing more momentous than a decision to adopt John’s advice and keep you in bed tomorrow. Whatever happens you must keep that appointment on Monday.”

  Victoria blinked. It was Kate who had been suspicious, counselling postponement—and now here she was speeding on an eventual parting with uncomplimentary haste.

  “You and Robert have come to an understanding, I imagine,” she said tentatively, and Kate smiled.

  “Oh yes. He’s quite convinced me that the sooner you meet your peculiar patron, the better, and since he’s going with you, I’m quite satisfied that you won’t be persuaded into anything foolish.”

  It was not the answer Victoria, wanted, but short of putting her question more bluntly she would have to be content to wait until Kate was ready to confide; but as if she had guessed her thoughts Kate sat down on the side of the bed and said suddenly;

  “Victoria, you remember I told you I had been in love with another man before I married Jim?”

  “Yes. He was engaged to someone else, so you did the noble thing and cut your losses, and when you both were free you met again. Well, I know all that, so what?” Victoria replied, trying to sound casual and adult and Kate smiled.

  “But you don’t, my dear. I only met him again quite by chance that week-end I was in London. He hadn’t changed a bit, but thank goodness, I had. I thought you might like to know.”

  Victoria was silent from sheer surprise, then she remembered Elspeth’s acid remark about bad pennies turning up again and her relief was mixed with pain.

  “You thought it was Robert, didn’t you?” said Kate softly.

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “I don’t think he even suspected. No, John told me.”

  “Oh! Well, it’s of no consequence now. I’m glad all the same, Kate, that I wasn’t poaching. It worried me dreadfully.”

  “Silly child! Don’t you think in the circumstances that you should reconsider before casting in your lot with Mr. Brown?”

  Kate made the question sound like a casual afterthought, but her eyes were warm and a little anxious and Victoria had to fight an impulse to succumb to the luxury of confessing to the sorry state of her own heart, but it was too late now for reassurance, neither did she fancy the possibility that Robert might still be offering to make insulting amends.

  “There’s nothing to consider. I took too much for granted, that’s all. It was really very fortunate that Robert’s silly trick misfired,” she said, and began to sneeze.

  “Those blasted roses!” Kate exclaimed, getting up and smoothing down the bedcover. “Oh, well, perhaps the real Mr. Brown will remedy that, once he’s made his intentions plain. Would you like Robert to come up and say goodnight?”

  “No!” Victoria answered so vehemently that she started coughing. Kate stood looking down at her with rather an odd expression, then she firmly tucked in the bedclothes and went away.

  Victoria spent Sunday in feverish anticipation of the morrow. Fears that she might not be fit enough to travel were mixed with a sneaking desire for the opposite, for although her temperature was normal, there was no denying that her cold was in its most unbecoming stage. Robert had thoughtfully sent up a supply of masculine handkerchiefs and by the time he put in an appearance himself to enquire, her nose was pink from repeated blowing and she was inclined to be tearful.

  “Isn’t it too humiliating?” she said when he commiserated tactfully with her situation. “The only one time in my whole life
that I want to make an impression and I have to look like a half-boiled rabbit!”

  “Oh, hardly that ... just a frail young thing with a regrettable addiction to the bottle,” he replied gravely, making her giggle. “Your ears are pink too, which on second thoughts does suggest a rabbit on account of their size.”

  “You,” she said, “are very rude, and it will serve you right if you catch my cold.” She added rather casually: “I think after all, it might be better if I postponed that meeting tomorrow. It wouldn’t be very tactful to pass on a cold to Mr. Brown as a token of esteem.”

  “Nonsense!” he retorted cheerfully. “Weren’t you taught that procrastination is the thief of time? For all you know the poor old gentleman may be on his last legs and thinking of making his will. You surely wouldn’t want to disappoint him after all this time?”

  “There you go again—mocking at poor Mr. Brown!” she exclaimed, welcoming a bracing return of hostility. “Why do you always have to provoke me just when I’m trying to be friendly?”

  “Possibly because I’m heartily sick and tired of Mr. Brown and all his works!” he replied. “You, I might add, are surprisingly touchy on the subject, considering the gentleman in question is a stranger.”

  “Well, after tomorrow he won’t be a stranger any more, so you can stop amusing yourself at my expense,” she snapped, and his eyebrows rose with a quizzical air of indulgence.

  “At Mr. Brown’s expense, not yours, my purblind child,” he said.

  “Purblind?” she echoed between sneezes, and he took a clean handkerchief from the pile on the table beside her and tossed it into her lap.

  “Yes, purblind,” he said gently, “but there’s some excuse for you, I’ll admit. I tend to forget your youth and inexperience when we wrangle so merrily.”

  “Merrily?”

  “Yes, merrily, and a good thing too. Relations would have become insupportable if there hadn’t been a lighter side to our disputes. Now take your medicine and keep warm, and by tomorrow you’ll feel more like putting on your best bib and tucker to dazzle Mr. Brown. When the interview is over I’ll take you out to lunch to celebrate.

  She saw no more of him until the evening when Kate thought it wise, in view of tomorrow’s trip, to get dressed and join them for Sunday supper. Perhaps because John Squires had joined the party, Robert seemed to be in a mood to tease. Since he appeared to be accepting the doctor’s presence with unusual equanimity, Victoria bore with his mischievous attentions for Kate’s sake, but even Kate, who every so often exchanged knowing smiles with John, finally rounded on him and told him to behave.

  “You can hardly accuse me of improper conduct while you and Squires provide such admirable chaperonage,” he protested innocently, and she gave him a look that was strongly reminiscent of Elspeth.

  “You know very well what I mean,” she retorted briskly. “You’re an expert at tripping up witnesses and getting them confused, but you’re not in court now.”

  “Are you confused, Victoria Mary?” he enquired with mock anxiety, and Victoria who was beginning to long for the privacy and solace of her bed gave him a withering look.

  “Not in the least,” she replied, somewhat tartly. “Such confusion as I may once have felt was only to be expected since I was very green, and unaccustomed to charming insincerities, but things are crystal clear now, so you don’t need to keep on pressing your point in this tedious fashion.”

  “Well said,” the doctor murmured with an appreciative grin. “I think you asked for that, Farmer.”

  “Yes, perhaps I did,” Robert answered, and his eyes were suddenly grave. Kate, looking surprised and a little unhappy, said rather quickly:

  “Why don’t we all play Consequences or something instead of talking a lot of nonsense?” Both John and Victoria smiled sympathetically though they did not second the suggestion, but Robert exclaimed irrepressibly:

  “Now that’s an idea! I haven’t played Consequences since I was a boy. Think what fun we could have with sinister Mr. Brown meeting gullible Miss Hayes in a lonely wood. He said to her: ‘How will you repay me for past favours’? She said to him—”

  “That’s enough!” Kate broke in quite sharply, but Victoria got to her feet and, looking Robert straight in the eye, finished for him:

  “She said to him: ‘In any way you choose that will settle affairs once and for all’. Now, if you don’t mind, Kate, I’ll say good-night and go to bed. I wouldn’t want to keep Robert waiting in the morning.”

  She crossed the room and unhurriedly mounted the corner staircase which had played such an unhappy part in her affairs, and John remarked gravely: “I think she meant that. Are you trying to drive the child into the arms of a total stranger who may or may not be on the level, Farmer?”

  “Perhaps,” Robert answered with tantalising prevarication, and the doctor frowned impatiently. Kate touched his hand sympathetically, but she, too, seemed surprisingly unperturbed.

  “Dear John,” she murmured softly, “Robert isn’t as hard-boiled as he sounds. Even if he goes about things in a peculiar fashion, he knows his own business best.”

  “Thanks, my comely cousin. I suggest we all have a nightcap to restore relationships and talk of cabbages and kings,” Robert said, and got up to dispense the drinks.

  Victoria slept heavily as a result of her cold and the strain of standing up to Robert’s provocations, and although Kate called her with a breakfast tray in plenty of time, she fell asleep again and was obliged to dress with more haste than she had planned for such a momentous occasion. Kate came back as she was trying to decide which dress to wear, thankful that the weather at least was being kind and she could dispense with the summer coat which had been chosen for utility rather than smartness.

  “Would you think the candy-stripe pink or the black sheath? The print is gay and was quite expensive but the black is towny and more sophisticated,” she said, her head on one side, but Kate took a navy-blue linen with crisp white collar and cuffs off its hanger and replied without thinking:

  “No, wear this, it’s Robert’s favourite. He says it gives you the air of a demure schoolgirl which is most intriguing and reminds him of the day he first saw you in court.”

  “Well, that’s a day I have no wish to remember, and since it’s Mr. Brown I want to impress and not Robert, I’ll wear the black,” Victoria retorted, snatching back the dress and throwing it on the bed, but when later, she came downstairs, ready to go, Kate observed with amusement that she had evidently changed her mind. She thought the girl looked delightful in the plain navy dress which made her appear so incredibly slender, but she was too tactful to comment and merely observed that she approved of the broad headband which did duty for a hat and was distinctly becoming.

  For a moment as they left, Victoria had a cold feeling of finality, the sensation of boats too hastily burnt, the point of no return too suddenly reached.

  “It isn’t really good-bye, is it, Kate?” she said as the older woman kissed her.

  “Of course not, you goose! Robert will see you safely on to the train after lunch and Elspeth’s preparing your favourite dinner.”

  “If, that is, Mr. Brown doesn’t spirit her away to his hidden lair before she can change her mind,” observed Robert from the open front door.

  “Now, Rob, don’t tease,” Kate admonished him. “Pay no attention to him, Victoria, if he tries to provoke you all the way to London. He’s probably only jealous of his unknown rival.”

  It was not very kind of Kate to make fun of her, too, Victoria thought as she followed Robert out to the waiting Bentley, but whatever his intentions may have been, he seemed undisposed for chatter. He drove with his usual speed and she sat beside him, every so often glancing at the hard, unrevealing lines of his profile and wondered what he was thinking about. Her own efforts at small talk having met with little response, she relapsed into an uneasy silence and wished she were not filled with so many last-minute doubts. Now that she was actually to come face to face wit
h her benefactor she was aware of a strange reluctance. The mysterious Mr. Brown had been an accepted part of her background for so long that she had not paused to consider that one day there might be a reckoning. She remembered those other summonses to the office of Messrs. Chappie, Chappie & Ponsonby and her sharp disappointment at Mr. Brown’s failure to appear. She would, she reflected unhappily, have been journeying to London today in a state of excited anticipation had it not been for the regrettable change in her situation. She wished Robert would make a last-minute appeal for further reflection before committing herself to the dictates of a stranger, but his disinclination to treat the subject seriously was even worse than his teasing and he seemed all at once like a stranger.

  He braked violently to avoid a car which turned off without giving signals, swore under his breath, then gathered speed with fresh vigour, at the same time placing a hand on her knee.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  “Not of your driving,” she answered, edging away, and saw him smile with amused comprehension.

  “Having cold feet for other reasons,” he said, but his tone was not conducive to a sympathetic hearing and she made no answer.

  All too soon the country was left behind them and the Bentley was forced to a crawl as it joined the incoming stream of traffic. The rows of ugly little houses with their sooty gardens depressed Victoria unutterably and she thought with longing of the Sussex lanes and woods and the familiar grace of Farthings. How much longer would she have to think of the place as home after today’s interview? she wondered disconsolately; what would be decided, had perhaps already been decided for her immediate future?

  “I’m not, of course, obliged to agree to anything,” she told herself reassuringly, aware too late that she had spoken aloud. She glanced a little nervously at Robert, hoping he had not heard, but he, with his usual promptness to pounce on an ill-considered remark, said a little mockingly: