(Complete)Heart broken Matthew Clark travels across the sea to heal. When he meets a stranger on his flight, he makes her his muse and says goodbye, only knowing her first name. It would be an amazing love story, if they met again.
When Lily Taylor...
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London, England
Matthew Clark entered his London flat. As he walked down the hall, he pulled at his necktie, after feeling trapped all night at his Grandfather Clark's birthday dinner in a waistcoat and dinner jacket. The food was delicious and the wine even better. As it should have been since the dinner was at the sommelier's table at the Michelin rated restaurant in The Connaught. Nothing was too good for the earl.
There was no excitement, just refined conversations. The entire meal was dull and his Clark cousins were bores. If it was a Dale party, his mother would host it and the gathering would be boisterous. At least one uncle would be drunk. The Clark family were aristocrats. His grandfather was the Earl of Gorham, and his father would inherit the title. Eventually, Matthew would become Lord Gorham. The thought made him shudder. At least, he wouldn't inherit his ancestral landed estate, because Beddington Hall was sold after the second world war. The earl's residence was a large drafty brick mansion, known as Gorham Place, in Kensington, filled with uncomfortable chairs and things children couldn't touch.
His father had practically caused a family scandal when he married a commoner, Wendy Dale. Matthew didn't have to ask why, but thirty years later, his parents were still madly in love. Thankfully, time had softened his grandparents' opinion of his mother. She produced a male heir, which counted for something. Matthew was jealous of his twin sisters, Millie and Martha. They were both away at uni and missed the exciting birthday meal.
His uni days were over and he no longer depended on his father. Although he spent ten or twelve hours a day on his laptop, he loved his work and made his own schedule. If he wanted to get pissed on Thursday night and have a lie-in all day Friday, he could. A lie in was always better when Penelope joined him.
He didn't trip over any colorful bags in the hall and the flat held an unwelcome silence. Penny didn't officially live with him, but had her own key and stayed more often than not. The buzz from the expensive aged wine would be wasted. He wanted her body as his digestif. On the ride home, he had looked at his mobile, hoping she had texted. She was probably out with her friends, a group of giggling, shrieking girls, he called Pen's hens. He felt a tightening in his gut, because she acted like a single girl when she went to nightclubs, even when he was with her. More than once he had to get between some knobhead trying to grind into his girl.
Filling a glass with water, he took a long sip before setting it on the worktop. His small kitchen worked for him, because he rarely cooked. If he wanted a proper meal, he drove to Surrey for his mother's cooking. With her empty nest, she spoilt him whenever he went home. Wendy loved Penny and would complain if he showed up without her.
He texted Pen, I'm home. Come over xXx
No response. He picked up his water and walked to his bedroom. If not for the three foot wide wall separating it from the reception room, it might not be called a bedroom at all. Then he could sleep, watch Spurs on the telly, and heat leftover takeaway in the same room. The only room with a door aside from the loo was his office. He chose the flat because it had a tiny room slightly bigger than a walk-in wardrobe, but perfect for work.
