Chapter Seven: Floria
Trix
Aunt Floria terrified everybody, including her family. Perhaps even especially her family.
Occasionally Lorelai had been accused of being cold by some people. It was an accurate enough assessment and it would not be untrue to say that she could be from time to time.
Lorelai knew though that even at her coldest she was like the Sahara at the height of summer in comparison to the South Pole in June that was her Aunt at her worse.
Lorelai had few memories of her mother that didn't involve the woman being sick but she knew that her mother had been a very different character to her twin.
Mother had practically fled her homeland to start a new life with her father in the United States. Given the social stature of her mother's family, and the society view of Americans (even wealthy ones) in Britain at the time it nearly could have been the biggest scandal in Britain since the (blatantly true) rumours surrounding her mother and aunts father.
Aunt Floria had not been best pleased by her twin absconding to another continent. Especially as her mother had chosen to do so on the night after Aunt Floria's wedding day.
By all accounts the breakfast the next morning was something to behold.
It was only Lorelai's grandmother who had been able to calm her daughter down. By all accounts Victoria di Borbone was a clever woman who laughed off scandals that would have destroyed others reputations by simply refusing to care. Considering the true identify of Lorelai's own maternal grandfather it would not be unfair to say that Victoria enjoyed courting controversy.
Lorelai regretted she never got the chance to meet the woman.
Despite her grandmothers best efforts Mother and Aunt Floria had never fully reconciled. Visits to London were far more difficult in the early years of Lorelai's life so she had only the vaguest memories of meeting the woman once or twice during her very early childhood.
Her late teens and early twenties were a different story of course.
Lorelai considered all of this as her cousin William entered the room.
He immediately sped over to Richard, at a speed that bellied his age, and gave him a massive hug.
Which was not the done thing by any means but was very typical of him.
"I'm so sorry about Emily Richard." Her cousin said kindly. "I'll miss her greatly. While I never got the chance to properly know Lorelai you can always count on my help."
Her son looked touched. Her cousin was sympathetic. All seemed well.
Her Aunt of course ruined the moment.
"William you just broke all rule of etiquette." A sharp voice burdened with age cut across the room. A practiced voice that knew how to pierce through chatter without seeming to shout. "Must you always be so wilfully obstinate to society protocol?"
Lorelai turned and looked at her aunt.
She was dressed in mourning clothes. That much hadn't changed as her aunt never wore anything else. Lorelai wondered who still made the styles her aunt wore, the clothes were at least seventy years out of date after all, before deciding the woman must have had them expensively tailored herself.
The old woman was robust though. A single cane was the only support required and if the wrinkles on her face and the brilliant white of the hair gave evidence of her aunt's very advanced age you could not tell it from her posture. Despite the ravages of time you could also tell she had once been a very beautiful woman as well.
"Who does that woman think she is?" Shira Huntzberger said rather loudly to Mitchum standing next to her.
That was a mistake. A huge mistake. She even heard a muffle gasp from a few people in the room. Mostly those of her own generation who knew precisely who her Aunt was.
And what she was capable of.
Lorelai saw her Aunt's eyes glint with something. The hunger of a predator.
For prey had just offered itself up on a silver platter.
"Who do I think I am?" her Aunt said, closing in slowly but menacingly on Shira Huntzberger. "Who do I think I am? I am one of your betters' girl."
Her Aunt looked the woman up and down.
"Over priced designer clothing, tacky gold bracelets, rancid perfume, and is that a Louis Vuitton handbag." The old woman said, rattling off insults as if describing the weather. "I can smell what you are coming off you. The stench is quite overpowering. Gaudiness but no real class at all. New money to the core!"
Shocked silence filled the room.
Aged blue eyes, still shockingly clear, glinted with malice as her aunt waited for Shira's reply.
"The Huntzberger family has been part of society here for nearly 170 years." Shira spluttered. Beside Shira Mitchum was slowly but surely inching away from his wife.
More brains than Elias possessed then.
"Huntzberger you say?" Aunt Floria smiled. It looked rather like that of a crocodile. An apt description of her Aunt in general actually. "Well that makes all the difference my dear."
Mitchum Huntzberger was now nearly a metre away from his wife.
"The Huntzbergers aren't new money of course. Well not by your American standards anyway. You personally however reek of it. Married up didn't you? Bravo! Everything you expected? Hoped for? The Huntzbergers do have their famous proclivities as I'm sure you know."
Her Aunt inched closer to Shira. The younger woman trying her best not to flinch away.
"Tell me my dear for I am dying to find out. What's your arrangement? Do you ignore the affairs? Do you give tacit approval for him to "let off some steam"? My personal favourite of course are those who are too foolish to notice the reality of the situation. Well come on dear. We're all dying to know. Which type are you?" Aunt Floria asked with mock sympathy.
Shira Huntzberger was looking at the floor now. Not able to bring her eyes up to meet Floria's face that was now just inches from her own.
"One of the first two options then. Alas." Floria sighed dramatically her free hand giving an exaggerated flourish to the crowd of mourners, who were now all watching the situation develop like the audience of a play. "The third option normally proves the most entertaining in polite and even impolite company." Aunt Floria paused for a moment as if to contemplate something. "It does cause one to wonder what the female version of a cuckold is. I confess I do not know the term myself. It must therefore be rarely used as I am quite certain I am one of the more well-read people here. Surely it must be a problem for students of the English language who have delved far deeper than I. A professor perhaps?" Aunt Floria mused. "Certainly someone deeply entrenched in academia."
Shira Huntzberger was shaking slightly and it wasn't with anger. It was the shaking of a mouse when the cat had it caught in its claws.
"Oh cheer up Shira you're not dead. Well not yet. Be content with that at least. Feel thankful you're not married to Elias. The things I've heard about him would make your toes curl." Floria mock whispered conspiratorially but loud enough for the whole room to hear. Lorelai was completely unsurprised her Aunt knew precisely who she had been talking to from the very beginning. Her Aunt always knew when she engaged a target as the old woman just did. "At least Mitchum allows you to keep your Honor. Your daughter of course not the personal quality. That's as absent as any class you attempt to portray yourself as having dear. "
Her aunt laughed then. A tinkling noise that was as beautiful as it was sharp. A noise that perhaps a sadistic member of a fairy court from some of the crueller legends would have given. A laugh that sliced through Shira Huntzbergers social standing from what Lorelai could see in the faces of certain members of the room in the know. Once the tale spread Shira's reputation would be devastated for months if not years.
Secrets that polite society would not openly discuss, but whisper behind closed doors in private settings, had been brutally exposed in a public setting by seemingly an interloper. For a lesser member of society it would have backfired. It would not happen here. The horror in the expression of some of the people in the room told Lorelai that much. They knew why Aunt Floria could get away with it. Not because of her bloodline alone, though that would have been enough, but from what Floria herself had done in the past to the last person who made a significant attempt to try to stand against her.
Her Aunt locked eyes on Mitchum next.
Mitchum, to his credit clearly knew some of what her aunt was capable of. Of who she really was. He subtly bowed.
"Lady Brabourne."
Her Aunt sniffed.
"A man who knows his courtesies, you help your case with that at least." Aunt Floria said.
"My wife didn't mean any offence My Lady." Mitchum said tentatively.
"Noted. Nevertheless offense was given. Can't be helped given her background of course. She looks rather unwell now poor dear. Perhaps she is sick." Her Aunt continued glancing briefly at the still cowering and pallid Shira. The woman looked on horrified at her husband effectively prostrating himself before the woman who'd just savaged her and his family as well. "Yes she is definitely sick. I am sure neither Richard nor either of the younger Lorelais will take offence if you both leave to ensure she recovers promptly." Floria stated before finishing very softly with one final word.
"Now."
Mitchum Huntzberger knew when a battle was lost, even if it was over before it really began, and was quickly dragging a Shira, still in shock from what happened, from the room panicked as an antelope attempting to escape a hungry lion.
The rest of the room watched in a state of terror.
One of the most important couples of the social set had been dispatched, torn down in a public setting, and effectively banished, with not even the slightest peep of protest.
Those who knew who her Aunt was were unsurprised at what had occurred but sickened they'd seen it up close. It was the social equivalent of seeing a tiger tear out a man's throat with its teeth then proceed to devour the rest of him.
Those who didn't know who she was decided it was probably safer not to ask where they could be overheard by the woman and address her as formally as Mitchum had. Those who looked as though they knew who the woman was were in for deep questioning later in a place of safety. For the sake of their own social standing they could not do anything less than that. Not if the woman had the power it seemed she wielded.
Satisfied with the carnage she had wrought her Aunt made her way gracefully but slowly towards her. Sureness in every step. Menace in every step.
The aura her Aunt carried reminded Lorelai of a moment in the opera Tosca. Her Aunt's ponderous journey towards her was eerily reminiscent of that of the victorious Scarpia in the opera during his triumphant victory over poor Tosca in the last moments of the first act.
All that was missing from the scene was the accompanying music.
"William I am one hundred years old. Ensure I have a chair at least." Her Aunt ordered as she neared Lorelai.
"Of course mother." William said quickly grabbing Richard. Straub and Francine quickly followed with them.
At least her son and his friends could be spared. She owed her cousin a good meal out for that.
"Four people to get one chair. How remarkable." Aunt Floria sniffed with mild disdain, or perhaps amusement. "They will take at least five minutes and more likely ten. William has never had the patience for subtlety when it came to avoiding me.
Well the old woman wasn't in a bad mood at least. Dispatching the Huntzbergers had clearly amused her. Not that it fooled Lorelai into a false sense of security. Cousin Claudia had already escaped the immediate vicinity the second she heard her brother's voice. It was remarkable the speed a nearly eighty year old woman could move at when she wished to escape her estranged mother. Rory was talking quietly away to her new found friends. The Shelley boy and Gellar girl advocating fleeing in self-preservation. It was probably the wise choice.
Lorelai would have to face what was coming alone. Which was a shame as what was coming next was going to be painful to hear.
"Well you got your wish Lorelai. The poor woman's dead. I expect after all these years of whining about it you're finally happy now?" Aunt Floria began.
Straight for the body blows.
"I'm not happy. How could I be happy? I never wanted this." Lorelai replied in earnest.
"Your granddaughter and the Hayden boy perhaps. But this? This you always acted as though you wanted Emily erased from the family." Aunt Floria responded.
It was stated as fact. Unarguable. Uncontested. The gospel truth.
It shamed Lorelai but Aunt Floria wasn't entirely wrong.
In her darker moments Lorelai had wished Emily would go away. That had been before though. Before the truth as she now saw it, before the accident, before she saw what it was doing to her son and great granddaughter.
Lorelai hated herself for her previous thinking. She wondered if some cruel genie had answered her darkest wish in the worst way possible.
Her Aunt was watching her.
"Did you finally figure it out?" Floria smirked.
Lorelai was silent.
He Aunt continued.
"Of course you did. Was Emily flawed? Certainly. Never nearly as bad as you made out though. I only met her annually but she was never the harpy you painted her as. There's a reason we haven't talked in nearly a decade Lorelai. Your last visit to this awful country you behaved abysmally to that poor woman. She only ever tried to be a dutiful daughter in law. If you feel sickened now you should."
The knife was stuck in again and again by her Aunt. Every sentence containing a truth Lorelai was desperate not to be confronted with.
"But if you feel guilt and despair now over your actions be done with it quickly girl. There are more important things at stake now than pointless self-recriminations." Her Aunt critiqued before asking a question Lorelai hadn't expected.
"How is the child?" Her Aunt asked. The Old Woman's eyes were locked on Rory who seemed to be attempting to convince her friends there was nothing to be afraid of.
Lorelai's blood run cold. Her Aunt had power with a capital P and craved ever more for her family with a hunger never quite fulfilled. She never took an interest in something unless she had a plan ahead.
Lorelai knew from experience.
"Rory is doing alright I think. She has nightmares. About the night of the accident." Lorelai confessed attempting to keep her face emotionless. For once the strategy worked.
Her Aunt looked in shock for a moment. The old woman's expression softened briefly. The glimpse of who her aunt could have been many years ago might have even been visible for a second.
Only a second though. Quickly her aunt's usual mask to her emotions realigned itself upon her face.
"Rory?" Aunt Floria said. "Mother used to have that as a nickname."
Which was news to Lorelai.
"I never knew that." Lorelai said truthfully.
"There was no reason you would. Mother was too painful to talk about. Especially after my dear twin passed so young." Aunt Floria confessed.
"Grandmother died a heroine. I know that much." Lorelai said. "From the history books."
Accounts of her grandmother's death were in more than a few after all.
"My mother never was one to follow the rules." Her aunt chuckled, possibly even genuinely, before turning morose. "Nearly eighty years later though what happened still hurts. She could, probably would, have lived were she not so stubborn."
"Not for long. It was a quicker death compared to the drawn out agonising one she otherwise would have had." Lorelai said trying to comfort her aunt.
Her aunt's eyes flashed with anger, another sign of what might have been true emotion, but only for the briefest of moments. The centenarian then gave a wistful sigh.
"You're right of course. Mother got a chance to die a heroine and took it. Her name emblazoned across the papers for something heroic rather than a scandalous but probably true rumour. I have no doubt she died the way she did that night to do so on her own terms." Aunt Floria mused. "Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt me to speak of her now. I can barely bring myself to speak your mother and you know that relationship was fraught with difficulty.
The two were silent for a moment.
"You know who reminded me of my mother?" Aunt Floria said.
"Who?" Lorelai asked.
"Your Lorelai. Your granddaughter. Their lives had parallels after all. Different actions taken of course, but the same spirit. Certainly a reluctance to get married when it was the only proper course, though that option was never feasible in my mother's case. Their ages when they made their decisions are a vast difference as well. They shared though that same rage against being constrained by society's rules as well as a fondness for breaking them. I only met the girl once but she had that fire in her." Aunt Floria said. "Fire like my Mother."
Aunt Floria paused before her voice turned somewhat passionate.
"It was snuffed out far too soon. Extinguished before her time. Like my Wyndham, like Beatrice, like Jane, like Amelia, like Mary, like Fabian. So many names… Are we cursed Lorelai? It would seem so. In our family we either live too long or die too soon." Aunt Floria muttered bleakly.
Lorelai agreed. Charles dead before sixty. Emily dead before fifty. Arthur dead before forty. Lorelai… Lorelai dead before thirty. Before even twenty five.
It wasn't fair.
The pair remained silent.
Even now Lorelai couldn't tell how much of the emotion her aunt had just seemed to express was real or a veil over a hidden agenda. The woman's mind and true feelings were opaque most of the times even to her own family.
"I would meet her now Lorelai." Her aunt said.
"Rory?"
"Yes" her Aunt nodded. "You know how we are similar to each other. Though it may be years before the girl realizes exactly why and how we are, probably long after I have shuffled off this mortal coil. Regardless even if we are separated by nearly a century I can help the girl." Her aunt locked eyes with her own.
The same blue as her great granddaughters own. They glinted with something. Though Lorelai could not quite think what.
Lorelai hesitated.
Her Aunts help was almost always both a blessing and a curse. Knowledge gained from the woman certainly useful but often dangerous (very often to others and rarely to the wielder).
Even now the lessons that she had allowed her aunt to teach her had seen her in good stead. Though the cost to others had been almost too great.
Her aunt would make Rory stronger, that was without a doubt, but any exposure to her aunt would change the girl in ways that Lorelai the second would have rightfully detested.
But her granddaughter wasn't here to protest and the life Rory could have had in Star's Hollow was in over in all the ways that truly mattered.
Lorelai thought of what she knew Rory could face in the years ahead.
Life was a battle and there was no better armourer on society's battlefield than her Aunt Floria.
Rory needed to be strong for what lied ahead in her life. A harder life than the one her Mother had envisaged for her in most respects. A harder life that required a harder person.
Lorelai's decision was easier than she thought it could have been.
Rory
The very old lady was looking at her.
Paris and Finn and run away and hid. Finn said that the old lady frightened him too much for him to stay, especially when Trix had started talking to someone else and the old lady had walked closer as if to speak to Rory. Paris had agreed with and hid like Finn but Rory thought that was partly for another reason.
Paris probably wanted to go and read her book again.
After a moment or two Rory realised that the old lady was waiting for her to say something and wasn't going to tell her off like the other lady who had been made to leave.
"Who are you?" Rory asked the very old lady.
"I am your Great Aunt Floria" Floria replied.
Rory thought hard. (Great) Auntie Hope was Grandma's sister but Great Aunt Floria wasn't grandpa's sister. He didn't have any brother or sisters. He'd told her. Plus Rory had overheard Trix calling her Aunt as well. Rory thought more. That would probably make Floria Trix's mommy or daddy's sister.…
"You're not my great aunt." Rory said hesitantly. "You must be Trix's mommy or Trix's daddy's sister." Rory thought hard and made an educated guess. "Does that make you my great, great, great aunt?"
"Well reasoned and you are correct. My sister was your "Trix's" mother." The woman began. Already Rory felt that she has passed a little test. "Although Aunt may be easier to remember as a general term as opposed to all those greats. In addition Mommy is an American term I have never cared for and many elsewhere also dislike, particularly among polite society across the pond. Mum or mummy is more appropriate if informality is required and such a term must be used. Mother however is always most appropriate. It might be ideal to remember that when in society should you come to Britain at any point. Americanism's are rarely appreciated there."
There were a lot of big words in there. Very big words. Rory thought she got the gist of it though.
Mommy is bad. Mummy is good. Mother was best.
"Why did that man call you Lady Brabourne if your name is Floria?" Rory asked.
Floria looked pleasantly surprised for a second.
"You're a sharp one aren't you? I am of the nobility Rory. One of the less bothersome things about it is I am addressed as Lady among members of polite society. My son is addressed as Lord for similar reasons. Do not concern yourself on it though, the technicalities bore even me to tears. Americans seldom keep to such things, though it is courteous to so, and I find myself pleasantly surprised when they do recognise the proper state of affairs. Courtesy so rarely becomes them after all."
That was another answer with lots of big words. Rory was learning a lot of them today. Again she thought she understood most of it.
Aunt Floria was a Lady (like a princess was a princess!) and although she didn't outright say so Rory got the feeling Aunt Floria didn't like Americans very much. That made Rory remember the scared lady who was made to leave.
"Why was that woman scared of you?" Rory asked.
"Do you not find me scary?" Floria said to Rory smiling.
It looked kind of like a crocodiles smile.
Rory did find the old lady a bit scary. Before the accident it might have even been a lot scary. Being without her mommy no… mother was a whole lot scarier though. Rory was surprised to find that the situation got less scary as the days went on since mummy died though. After all that? One old lady wasn't really very scary at all.
"Not having my Mummy" The word had a different shape in saying it to mommy but Rory found herself liking it. "Is much scarier than you."
"Nicely evaded Rory. Not saying I am not scary at all I noticed. But you did admit that I am not quite as scary to you as I was to that woman. Which is of course the correct state of things. Some things and some people should be feared though." The Old Woman smirked. "You are six years old if I recall?" Floria said as if she had forgotten the information.
Rory could tell she knew though. Talking with Aunt Floria was almost like a game!
"Yep. My birthday is on October eighth." Rory said. "I think you knew that though. I'm smart." Rory frowned. "I don't think most kids in kindergarten know their birthday though. They can be kind of stupid.
"I'd imagine you are right. You are indeed a very clever child. Especially for six. You have a great mind in that brain of yours." Floria said proudly.
"Are you going to try to take my brain?" Rory said warily.
Because Rory suspected that if Floria could she might well try.
Floria began laughing then. A kinder laugh than the one before with the other lady. A real laugh.
"Heavens no child. Your brain is your own forever. No one shall ever take it away from you. I do wish to aid you in improving it though. Well your mind at least."
Rory felt relieved. Only one difficult word there and she was really sure she knew what it probably meant.
Improve. To make better!
That was good of Aunt Floria to offer. Rory liked her brain and her mind as well.
Improving it would be very good.
"You are right to protect your brain though child. The brain cannot be taken but the thoughts we have inside can be stolen by the unscrupulous from our mind if we are less than cautious in the company we voice them. Be wise on who you trust your thoughts with." Floria proclaimed.
Rory didn't fully understand all the words once again but she felt she knew what Aunt Floria meant.
Rory didn't want anyone stealing her ideas. Too much had been taken away from her already. Grandma, Daddy, Mom- Mummy. Aunt Floria was right! Her thoughts were hers! They should be no one else's.
"The words you use sound funny and I don't know a lot of them but they sound smart and I want to understand them! I really like learning new words because I always try my best in class. But my mom- mummy said kindergarten is not really proper real class and I should have fun." Rory thought mummy might have been wrong on that though. You should try to learn in Kindergarten. "I think you're right Aunt Floria! My ideas are mine! I don't think other kids or adults should take them from me! Never ever!" Rory said proudly to Floria hoping it would convince the old woman she knew what she had been told.
Because Rory felt she had learned a lot very quickly.
And Rory liked it.
"Excellently put. You show great wisdom as increasing ones vocabulary is always a noble goal. Very well done Rory you have firmly grasped the lesson." Floria smiled.
Floria's smile definitely looked like a crocodiles. But that didn't really matter because Rory was proud.
Someone was proud of her learning.
Really properly proud.
("Why hadn't mummy cared as much?" A voice in her head whispered.)
"You have done very well indeed." Aunt Floria smiled once more.
And Rory felt the happiest she'd been since mummy had died.
Richard
William was Trix's cousin but for Richard he was the closest thing that he had to an uncle.
His father's only brother had died when Richard had barely learned to walk. His mother's only brother had died more than two decades before he was born.
Cousin Will had been the uncle Richard had always wanted. Fun loving, eccentric, funny. When he had hugged Richard it had meant a degree of safety again. He had felt eight years old once more during a trip to visit his mother's family in London.
That Will was a Baron (and also a Baronet as well) was neither here nor there.
They had purposefully taken their time finding the chair they were looking for.
"That old woman will not die from a lack of a chair." William said. "She has made it quite clear she doesn't plan on dying yet. I sometimes doubt she ever will. The reapers probably afraid of her more than she is of him anyhow."
Eventually though time had elapsed long enough and the pursuit could be delayed no more. A chair was located.
"My mother is appeased." William said
"Thank the Lord." Richard replied hoping his great aunt would tear him a new one over the delay.
"You're welcome." William grinned.
Both men chuckled. That joke was one of William's favourites. Had he been Richard's true uncle he would have been the fun uncle.
The both men remembered where they were. A sombreness settled.
"Lorelai's funeral is later today isn't it. " William noted.
"Yes it is. I imagine it will be harder than this one has been." Richard replied.
"Have courage Richard. When Jane and Amelia died back in 78 I wanted to curse the world. It wasn't fair that my daughter died of cancer at thirty five. It wasn't fair that the stress of her death caused my wife to have a stroke during the funeral preparations. But I got through that and you'll get through this. "
Richard smiled at the man as Straub and Francine joined them having quickly nipped for some more from the buffet table.
"You found a chair then." Straub said. "Took you long enough."
"Time away from my mother is a precious commodity not to be wasted. But we do need to get it to her before your granddaughter is made her next major project." William stated.
"Major project?" Francine asked.
"My mother likes our family to do well. Unfortunately Mother's moral compass has been pointed to her personal magnetic north of ruthless pragmatism since she was at least thirteen years old and quite probably a bit before that. Very helpful if you have aspirations for great power or wealth, especially if you wish for a potent combination of the two, but not so helpful if you want a quiet content life where such things have less importance." William replied.
"You make her sound almost evil." Straub commented.
"Well she certainly isn't on the side of the angels most of the time." William confessed. "Unless the angels are advocating for increased power for her family. While I don't think she's ever outright killed anyone directly she has gone on quiet the merry spree of social murders on occasion. Shira Huntzberger was her being comparatively kind. My mother would metaphorically knife a family member in the back, and has in the past, if it suited her ultimate goals. The fate of Cousin Edward is perhaps the most infamous example of what she can do to family when she sets her mind on something. I on the other hand am content to manage the family estates and twiddle my thumbs in the House of Lords unless I have an opportunity to make an excellent speech or a clever quip."
"The House of Peers throughout the war did nothing in particular." Straub muttered to himself.
"And did it very well." William said back with inappropriate glee. "A fellow Savoyard. Always a pleasure to find one."
Straub Hayden's eyes lit up.
"Trial by Jury made me want to be a lawyer you know. I was devastated when they told me American judges weren't allowed to wear the wigs." Straub explained.
Francine had a look of utter despair on her face. Richard remembered that Francine had never been particularly enamoured of Straub's obsession with light opera.
"Please don't start Straub. It's Emily's funeral. Quoting and discussing Gilbert and Sullivan is not appropriate." Francine said immediately sobering the conversation.
"Of course Franny" Straub said remembering himself and the occasion.
As they got into sight of the six year old Rory talking in depth to the hundred year old Floria they heard the last smattering of conversation.
"..very well indeed." Floria concluded smiling.
Richard though the woman looked like a damn crocodile. Rory however did not seem frightened. Even his daughter had been frightened of Floria on the one occasion they had met.
Rory seemed enraptured.
It concerned Richard. It concerned him deeply.
"My chair. Wonderful." The old woman said. "It only took you ten minutes. Some originality in your thinking when it comes to trying to avoid me would be nice William"
She knew. The blasted woman always knew.
"Standing is good exercise mother. You might live another year." William said casually defending his delay with the flimsiest of excuses.
"If nothing else at least your capacity for sarcasm is something to be proud of." Floria said dismissively. "My dear Richard I am so sorry about Emily and Lorelai. You know how much I liked Emily and I regret Lorelai was not able to visit me more often."
Richard didn't regret it.
Although Emily found his Aunt Floria far more bearable than his mother, perhaps had even gotten on with the woman, the same could not be said for his daughter.
Lorelai the second's sole visit to Floria had managed to subdue and control even the fourteen year old Lorelai for a moment after the old woman had invited the girl for a private audience. Whatever the two had discussed had deeply shaken his daughter so much she had actually behaved. His daughters silence after meeting his great aunt was a victory that not even Emily wished to repeat at such a cost to their daughter's happiness. The girl had been comparatively muted for the remainder of that trip to Europe.
Richard had an idea then remembering that there was another family member that Floria was well inclined towards who they had also seen that trip.
"Hope managed to make it here to the funeral as well. She got in early this morning." Richard said.
"Hope is here. How wonderful." Aunt Floria said. "I can't wait to see her again. She managed to escape Cauterets then?"
For a second Richard thought that would be the end of it, his aunt being suitably distracted, before Rory went up on tippy toes close to Floria and whispered in her ear.
Most of the adults held their breath. You didn't just whisper in The Dowager Baroness Brabourne's ear. It wasn't the done thing.
Aunt Floria let out a laugh though.
"I quite agree with you on that Rory" and quickly began to whisper back with Richards Granddaughter.
Most of the other adults looked uneasy. Familiar as they were with the woman's reputation. His cousin William looked horrified at what was occurring. It was the expression on his mother's face that made Richard feel ill though.
The resigned acceptance of the situation, Trix would not intervene in this.
Which meant she approved.
Rory gave a little giggle then. The centenarian and kindergartener were clearly getting on famously.
Which did not bode well.
It did not bode well at all.
Well this chapter has been far less time coming. During the course of my research I read the transcript for cinnamons wake. Cousin Claudia is described in a manner that makes her seem like a very very distant relative. However by the description she could be Trix's first cousin which is actually a pretty close relationship imo (first cousin twice removed). In my continuity the idea of Trix as only child having no living siblings means cousins are of increased importance. This led to me thinking what if Trix Grandmothers sister is actually still alive in early 1991? Floria and the backstory for Trix's mother developed from there. There have been a few story threads laid throughout this chapter and I hope people are enjoying this. If anyone has any theories on Floria's Father, what was the incident that caused the death of Victoria (Trixs grandma), or even what the big incident involving Floria was feel free to speculate in reviews or messages. I think I've left a few hints and I hope people are still enjoying the story. Next up will probably be Lorelai's funeral but no promises.