Uncle John was waiting for him on the sitting room sofa in the parlor between the suites when Philip came back. "Your mother was in quite a state."
"Which antic in particular this time?" Philip leaned casually against the wall. He was still riding the high from that last kiss at her dorm. At least he knew that much was perfect between them. It was one reason he'd been wanting to talk to his uncle. So many things running through his mind. Now to get all the rest to fall in line.
His uncle tucked a long arm behind his head, and let out a long, heavy sigh. '"Well, for one, she doesn't much care for the lippy bird you had on your arm. Or rather, clutched in your arm. Staying gone all day and most of the night, and then not bothering to come in with her once you deigned to let us know you were safe."
"So, I should have let her walk home alone?"
"Of course not. Letting us know you were going to? That might have been nice." Philip winced. Leave it to Uncle. Might as well get it all out in the open then.
"Something happened today, and I have no idea what to make of it."
"What is it?" He had his uncle's wary attention now. It didn't help he sounded even to himself like the toddler admitting it was his crayon on the wall.
But Philip's confession was interrupted by a very familiar, but very Londoner voice from the back room, Uncle John's room, to be precise. "Love, I'm peckish. Have you ordered it yet?"
Philip was frozen with shock. "What..?" Eyes confirmed what ears heard not a moment later as the ginger that shot him down in the restaurant the day before came sauntering into the room wearing nothing but Uncle's shirt and a satisfied grin. It was her turn to freeze when she noticed Philip against the wall in the sitting room. She recovered fast.
"Evening, Philip is it?" No trace of the southern drawl lingered at all in the very proper and very English voice. "How are you enjoying your stay on our island?"
"I've been on rollercoasters with less loops." Philip was not feeling well.
"I believe it's in the island's motto. I should get back to bed probably," Wren tossed a steamy glance at Philip's uncle."I'm getting cold."
"It's at least twenty degrees outside, Wren," The lifted eyebrow fazed her not at all, but she grinned back at the chuckle in his voice.
"I wasn't talking about the weather," Her sultry voice nearly had John coming up off the couch. The come hither smile and light in her eyes did not help matters, neither did the gently swaying hips that left no delusions about what she was looking forward to later.
"Is that the waitress from the restaurant?" Philip sounded as if he was choking.
"That's Wren." John's tone was suddenly cold and firm. "She is coming back to London with us."
"And that's where she lives, I gather by the accent." Philip concluded. John grinned from some pleasant memories and nodded.
"Blimey..." Philip shook his head. It was too incredible. "What in bloody hell is going on?"
"What do you mean?" John looked at his watch and then at the door of his bedroom. Apparently the room service he ordered for his hungry bird was tarded.
"When was the last time you brought a 'friend' home?" He shook his head again. "I was coming to ask you for advice, and it seems this island's gotten you, too."
"She's not a friend, Phil. She is… Wren," John suddenly laughed. "I'm keeping her." He shook his head still chuckling, "And you're bloody right. Let's blame the island."
"Keep her, Uncle? How do you mean?"
"As in that's your aunt there, Phil?" While the lips were smiling, the eyes were warning Philip to tread carefully. Philip took the hint.
"Oh bloody hell!" Philip slid into a nearby chair. Stunned didn't begin to describe it. John feigned a nonchalant look.
"Alright, good night, Phil. Send the room service my way if they come, would you please?" He started up off the sofa to take Wren up on all those innuendos.
"I think I found her." Philip said it fast, getting it out before he lost all his nerve. He needed some kind of footing dealing with this.
"Who her?" John finally focused his cold blue eyes on his nephew. His attention was quickly back in the here and now, instead of in the room with Wren.
"The one I want to keep." Philip ran his hands through his hair in frustration. It sounded barmy even to him. He knew it the minute she warned him she could get pregnant. He saw her clearly, round with his child, and he didn't want to run. He wanted that, her, the baby, everything. It scared him shitless. John looked at him attentively. Long years dealing with the lightning fast stock market enabled him to take in his nephew's current state quickly and fully. The boy was obviously in love. He stretched back out on the sofa in total control of the situation.
"Is that where you were all night?"
"Yes. She found me bladdered on the jetty, then walked me till I was sober." He quirked a smile. "She refused to come in, didn't want any posh brits looking down their nose at her."
"She'd get plenty of that," John's tone was slightly irritated, "Your mother is unimpressed, putting it mildly."
"Not very surprising. Briallen didn't let her pull her usual tricks." John gave his nephew a studying look.
"Give me a mo, Phil," he rose and walked to his door. He slightly opened the door, obviously not wanting Phil see the room destroyed by sexcapades and stuck his head inside the room. Philip never heard that particular tone from his uncle. It almost sounded like a purr. "Wren, I'll be in a jiffy. I'll send the roomservice to your door. Just put it on my bill, alright?" Philip couldn't hear her answer clearly, but John suddenly barked a short throaty laugh. "None of that, little one. I have a conversation to finish." The indistinct sounds from the room sounded like a mixture of giggles and squeaks. None of which he'd ever have associated with his uncle or anyone with his uncle. Could the night get any stranger?
John, except for a bit of color on his cheeks, was his usual unmovable self and gave Phil an expectant look once he was again leaned back on the sofa.
"So, what do I do? How do I handle this?" Philip looked as close to panic as John had ever seen him, including that time he was caught in the car with the keys at age ten.
"Are you honestly asking my advice?" John chuckled. "You know my history, Phil. That," he pointed at the door behind him, "is where random boffing ends for me, I believe. How does it end for you?"
Philip laughed, but there wasn't any humor in it. "No, no more one offs, but she doesn't believe a word I say, and my background scares her."
"For once you can't use your family and money as an asset, I see," The sarcastic chill in his voice left Philip wincing. "I like the chick."
"No, rather, it's a blunder. She prefers to stay away from 'posh wankers'. I think she's mates with that one." Philip nodded towards John's door.
"Then she's fine with posh wankers. That one, as you put it, has a Duke for a grandfather. Given they are micks."
"Can any more surprises jump out at me today? I think I'm due at least three more." Philip's moan earned a wolfish grin from John.
"I exchanged my ticket, so I'm staying for another three days with you and Dea. And Wren. They are already best of mates."
"Are they?" Phil's raised eyebrow and dry tone were almost a match for John's, considering where he'd learned it. That prompted a chuckle from his uncle.
"Not really. Let's say, your Mum got her head bitten off for the second time tonight when she walked in on us on this very sofa," John patted his large hand on the velvet near his thigh.
"That was an image I could have done without. I also think I more than filled my quota of impossible today. I still have no clue how to proceed with Briallen, though. What do I do?" John steepled his fingers.
"I am the last person to ask, Phil. You know my record."
"Unfortunately, you're the only one I can ask. Bollocks"
"Ok, I'm going to regret this..." John sighed. "I say, grab her and run. It hit you, you are certain, so just do it. Blimey, I sound like an Adidas commercial."
"Will I have your backing when I transfer to a closer campus?"
Before John could answer, the door slammed to his room, and his Wren stalked out like an avenging angel: sheet wrapped like a Michelangelo statue, hair in a wild nimbus, mouth in an angry line, and her eyes that dangerous shade of green. Her phone dangled from finger and thumb like a dead mouse, and once she stopped in front of them, both men recognized the foot tap of a woman wanting answers.
"Philip," her voice was dangerously low and icy cold, "Would you care to explain why I have just found in my phone a text from my darling friend Bri telling me she had picked up a motherless blonde Brit today at the jetty and now she is 'fit to be tied'?"
"Bloody hell! I dropped her off not an hour ago. She was fine!" Philip was already half out of his seat. Had something happened to Briallen after he dropped her off?
"She is not fine! She is, and I quote 'turned around worse than a whirligig in a waterspout'!" She raised her voice, and John slapped a cushion from the sofa over his face. Phil thought he could hear snorting.
"Well, that makes two of us, then." At least it wasn't some new aggro. He had his hands full with the current crop.
"Do not compare yourself to her! For you it's a confusion of a wolf that ran into an unknown species of a bird! For her it's a life changing event with..." She looked into her phone, "A blonde beefcake." She pointed her small finger at his nose. "I will neuter you with a serrated edge grapefruit spoon if you hurt her! Stay away from her!"
"I can't. No more than uncle can stay away from you. Think about it."
"It's true," John's muffled voice came from under the cushion, "He was just professing his undying love for her." And Philip's humiliation was complete. It was a good thing his uncle couldn't see the derisive look that sally earned him. He might have wilted on the spot.
"I highly doubt your opinion on commitment counts, darling," her eyes were narrowed and tone venomous. "If the memory serves me right you had a one off with a tart of a waitress on a beach after exchanging two phrases with her." Wren's voice sounded entirely too controlled and haughty. John lowered the cushion, to Phil's shock he didn't look angry or upset, but was still smiling.
"And then I saw the light and asked the honourable maiden I found instead to accept my undeserving self." His face grew serious. "People change, love. Philip could too." She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. Her quick eyes took in his high color, unwavering gaze, and stubborn set of a usually smiling mouth. Whatever she saw in that must have reassured her.
"Alright, I'm leaving you two to it, but remember," she turned to Phil, "I spent the last six months waiting on people and the salad bar. I am very good with the grapefruit spoon." With those final words, Wren swept out as magnificently as she had stalked in, with a swagger that set her hips roundly swinging. Both men were caught up in the sight, though Philip quickly ducked his head when his uncle took notice.
"And answering your question I think you are a plonker if you decide to change schools for a bird, but I'll support you." John's voice was calm and warm, his eyes still lingering on the door Wren disappeared behind.
