Share
MidReal Story
The Earl's Secret Lover
Scenario:Back in the mid 1800's of England, 24-year-old Aurelia Winchester, known as the 'perfect girl,' struggles to find a suitor in her second season, while Josephine Lockhart, Jodie, also 24, effortlessly attracts suitors but lacks interest in them. Jodie decides to help her find a suitor but once Aurelia's found a suitably 'perfect match' Jodie can't help but feel something she can't quite understand, hinting at something a bit more lingering under the surface of their friendship. Jodie and Aurelia struggle to work with their forbidden tension as Aurelia is forced to get courted to her new suitor and Jodie is pressured to find one as well, her parents not taking the idea too lightly that their daughter is purposely rejecting possible matches for herself.
Create my version of this story
Aurelia Winchester
female. She is a young woman participating in her second season of courtship in Victorian England. She is selfconscious,hopeful,and sensitive. Despite being described as the "perfect girl," she struggles with finding a suitable match. Aurelia is drawn to Josephine Lockhart,her childhood friend,and feels conflicted over her feelings. She experiences anxiety and embarrassment during her first encounter with a suitor and ultimately accepts a proposal from Lord Sebastian Markham,unable to reject him due to family pressure.
Josephine Lockhart
female. She is Aurelia Winchester's childhood friend and companion in society. She is confident,playful,and independentminded. Josephine effortlessly attracts suitors but shows little interest in them. She helps Aurelia find a suitor but secretly proposes a daring plan to run away together. Their friendship deepens as they confront their feelings and the societal expectations that bind them. Josephine ultimately suggests Aurelia accept her match to avoid scandal,despite her own reservations about marriage.
This is my second season and I am no closer to finding a suitor than I was last year.
My parents are delighted, of course.
"Such high standards, Aurelia, " they say.
But the truth is, I’m not so much picky as I am hopeless.
I can’t seem to catch the eye of any man here.
Not that I want to, particularly.
Not that I want to be married and have my life ruled by someone else.
But my parents will not rest until I am settled with a suitable husband.
"Josephine has so many suitors, " my mother sighs.
"She is such a clever girl, catching the eye of all the best men. You should try to be more like her, Aurelia."
If only she knew, Josephine Lockhart may appear to be the most sought-after girl in all of England, but she has no interest whatsoever in being courted or married.
She laughs and flirts with the men who fawn over her, but behind closed doors, she rolls her eyes at their foolishness.
She has no intention of ever being tied down to one man.
And yet, despite her carefree and independent nature, she is the one who insisted on coming with me to the ball tonight.
From across the crowded ballroom, I watch her holding court with three gentlemen near the refreshment table.
Her golden hair catches the candlelight as she tosses her head back in laughter at something Lord Pembroke has said.
She gestures animatedly, her gloved hands dancing through the air as she speaks, while the men lean in closer, completely captified by her words.
The way she commands their attention with such ease makes my chest tighten.
When she catches my eye through the crowd, she gives me a subtle wink before turning back to her admirers.
Gathering my courage, I weave my way through the crowd of silk gowns and tailcoats toward her.
My hands tremble slightly as I smooth the front of my pale blue dress, my eyes fixed on the floor to avoid tripping over any stray hemlines.
The gentlemen’s laughter grows louder as I approach, and I catch snippets of Josephine’s story about her horse riding mishap last summer when she got thrown off into a muddy puddle.
She must sense me coming before I even reach them because she shifts subtly to create a space beside her.
Lord Pembroke’s smile falters when he sees me join their circle, clearly disappointed by the interruption.
"Ah, Aurelia, there you are!" Josephine exclaims, linking her arm with mine.
"I was just telling these fine gentlemen about our little adventure last summer," she adds with a mischievous grin.
Lord Pembroke raises an eyebrow, "And what mischief did you get up to, Miss Aurelia?"
I gather my courage and begin, my voice growing steadier as I speak.
"Josephine and I snuck out of the house at dawn to ride our horses through the fields. It was still misty and the sun was just beginning to rise."
I pause for dramatic effect, glancing at Josephine, who nods encouragingly.
"We were racing each other across the open fields when a pheasant suddenly darted out from behind a bush, spooking Josephine’s mare. She lost her balance and tumbled into a muddy ditch."
The gentlemen lean in closer, captivated by my story.
I can’t help but mimic Josephine’s indignant expression when she emerged covered in muck, which earns a chuckle from Lord Pembroke and the others.
"We had to sneak back through the garden to avoid being seen," I continue, "and Josephine had to wash her hair three times before all the mud came out."
As I finish recounting our misadventure, a flash of emerald green catches my eye from the corner of the ballroom.
Lady Pembroke’s parrot, infamous for causing trouble at social gatherings, has escaped from its cage and is now dive-bombing our little group.
The parrot lands on Josephine’s elaborately styled hair, its talons tangling in her golden curls.
"Mud! Mud!" it screeches, flapping its wings wildly.
The gentlemen take a step back, startled by the sudden intrusion.
Josephine, however, remains perfectly still, her eyes locked with mine in a silent plea for help.
Lord Pembroke lunges forward to rescue Josephine from the parrot’s clutches, but his sudden movement only agitates the bird further.
"Stay still, Josephine," I whisper urgently, reaching up to gently coax the parrot away.
Josephine bites her lip, trying not to laugh despite the chaos, "Aurelia, I think it likes me."
Lord Pembroke chuckles, finally managing to untangle the bird, "It seems even Lady Pembroke's parrot is enchanted by you, Miss Josephine."
After the parrot incident, we both look a bit flustered, but Josephine’s smile remains steady.
I notice her hands are trembling slightly as she smooths her hair.
The other guests have begun to whisper and point, making the ballroom feel suffocating.
Lord Pembroke hovers nearby, clearly hoping to escort Josephine himself.
Before he can step forward, I gather my courage and extend my arm to her.
My heart pounds in my chest as I lean close and whisper, "Shall we escape to the garden?"
A look of relief washes over Josephine’s face as she takes my arm.
Her fingers press warmly against my sleeve.
I lead her through the French doors and out into the moonlit garden.
The night air cools my flushed cheeks, and the scent of blooming flowers envelops us.
We follow the gravel path between neatly trimmed hedges, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the stillness.
Behind us, the music and laughter from the ballroom spill out through the bright windows.
Josephine’s breathing steadies as we walk in silence, but I can feel her hand trembling against my arm.
When we reach a stone bench partially hidden by a flowering arbor, I guide her to sit.
I settle beside her, our shoulders touching, and the white roses overhead cast dappled shadows on the ground.
The distant music mingles with the song of crickets, creating a soothing melody.
Josephine takes several deep breaths, and I can feel her body relax beside me.
Her hand finds mine in the shadows, fingers intertwining with mine.
The warmth of her touch sends tingles up my arm, making my heart flutter.
When she doesn’t respond, I study her profile in the moonlight.
Her usually confident posture is slightly hunched, and her golden curls are disheveled from the parrot’s attack.
Though she maintains her composure, I notice her lower lip trembling.
I lean closer, drawn by an instinct to comfort her.
The sweet scent of roses mingles with the lavender perfume she wears.
I squeeze her hand gently, and her shoulders shake with suppressed emotion.
A single tear escapes, sliding down her cheek and catching the moonlight.
Without thinking, I reach up to brush it away, my fingertips grazing the softness of her skin.
Josephine catches my wrist, holding my hand against her face as she closes her eyes.
The shadows of the garden conceal us from view, but my pulse quickens at our proximity.
My fingers linger against her cheek, the warmth of her skin sending shivers down my spine.
The sound of a distant carriage and the rustling of leaves in the breeze fill the silence.
Suddenly, a small, dark shape falls from the arbor above, landing on Josephine’s silk-covered knee.
We both startle and look down to find a tiny green frog perched there, its throat pulsing rapidly.
The creature lets out a melodious croak, breaking the tension between us.
Josephine’s laughter bubbles up, genuine and unrestrained.
I can’t help but join in, our giggles mingling with the sweet scent of roses.
"Do you remember the last time we laughed like this?" she asks, her voice soft and wistful.
"At the summer fair, when the fortune teller mistook us for siblings," I reply, squeezing her hand gently.
She nods, her eyes meeting mine with a newfound clarity. "I never told you, but that was the day I realized I loved you."
I stare at her in stunned silence, my hand still pressed against her cheek.
The shadows of the garden hide us from prying eyes, but my mind races to process her words.
The fortune teller’s cryptic words from that summer day echo in my mind: "Love is often hidden in plain sight."
My heart pounds against my ribs, and the crickets seem to chirp in rhythm with its frantic beat.
When I finally turn to face her, I move with deliberate slowness, as if afraid to break the fragile connection between us.
Josephine’s eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I see vulnerability in her usually confident gaze.
Her fingers tighten around my wrist, keeping my hand against her cheek as she waits for my response.
"Josephine," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the night sounds, "I’ve loved you since that day too."
Her eyes widen, shimmering with a mixture of surprise and relief.
"Then why did it take us so long to find our way here?" she asks, her voice a blend of wonder and regret.
