Willamina was sitting on the porch with her nose stuck in a book. "Ad nauseum... to the point of sickness. Bona curatio... good cure. Natura sanat... nature cure."
The moment the Latin phrases book had come into her possession she had poured her heart into studying the language. She murmured each of the phrases and their English translations softly to herself, familiarizing herself with the words and their meanings. Since she had begun working as an assistant to the local doctor, medical phrases had become her point of interest.
The door suddenly opened and slammed shut, signaling that Abigail was back from her luncheon.
"How was Mrs. Banks?" Willamina asked politely, although she did not take her eyes away from the book. She was cordial when her aunt was around but saw no reason to be overtly friendly. She may have rejected Abigail's high society but she still had manners. The wooden floorboards of the deck creaked as the older woman made her way over. Abigail reached over, gently taking the book and setting it on the rail.
"She was fine," Abigail replied stiffly. There was a brief pause. "You should have come. Judah was there."
Willamina released a sigh of exasperation. Wherever her aunt went, a dark cloud of misery followed and rained upon anyone who dared to show a glimmer of joy. "Judah is only sixteen, Aunt." She never understood the woman's constant need to marry her off. It made her heart ache for the days her mother was alive. She never would have forced her daughter to do something she wasn't ready for. In all honesty, Willie didn't know if she would ever be ready.
"He is a bright young businessman and in a few years could make a good husband for you, but only if you make an effort now. There are plenty of other, younger women he could choose from."
Willie rose from her velvet cushioned seat. "Good. Let him choose from one of those other women." As kind as Judah was, she knew he would never understand her or her passions. If she were to marry him, she would be resigned into the role of a housewife. She turned to walk back into the house, but Abigail caught her by the arm with a firm grip.
"People are starting to talk, young lady. It has been two years since your debut and most girls in your position would have married or at least been engaged by now." The look in Abigail's eyes was pitiful but her tone was something akin to threatening. "I am worried about your reputation, dear."
Willie scowled. She had heard this speech over a dozen times since her debut. "I know better than that," she retorted. "It is your own reputation you are worried about, dear aunt." She jerked her arm from the woman's grip and marched into the house, only to be met with the younger version of the woman she had just left. "Evangeline," she said in surprise.
The blonde woman smiled, a spitting image of her mother's. "Hello, Willie, it's nice to see you."
Willamina stiffened, then smiled. "It's good to see you too, Eva. I did not know you were visiting today."
"Oh? I told mother, but I suppose she didn't pass along the message."
Just then, Abigail came brushing past the two women without a word. It went quiet for a moment between the two young women, no conversation to be made without a thing in common between them. It saddened Willie sometimes that she couldn't converse with her own family. They were all she had left since her parents were gone. Despite that, she did not feel as though the residents of Goodspring Plantation were truly family. Blood perhaps, but not family.
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Word Count: 629