Symphonies in E Minor

Chapter Twenty Four: The Reception (Part II)

Pieces played in this chapter: Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2 (Chopin), Ballad No. 4 Op. 52 (Chopin)

Harry looks over the ballroom floor where Aaliyah is standing, twisting her fingers almost painfully, which he can tell judging by the way her face scrunches into a grimace. He begins to head over to her to gently reprimand her for damaging herself, but as soon as he starts walking, a larger group of people swarm around him, as if literally cornering him. Taken aback by the unfamiliar faces, he stops.

"Mr. Styles, is it?" one of them says. It's an older woman with the thickest accent he's heard yet, and after looking at her and then the younger people around, he realizes she's the mother.

"Er, yes," he says, fixing his neck tie. He glances at Aaliyah over their heads. He can barely see her now. He looks back at the women in front of him, plastering a smile on his face like Aaliyah told him to several times already on this trip. She's kicked him under the table multiple times about it too. He thinks he has a bruise on his shin. "How may I help you?"

"We only wished to introduce ourselves," the woman says, fanning herself with a black, elegant fan with gold rims. "We are the McCallister family from Stirlingshire. These are my daughters." She pokes them with her fan to make them stand straight and take a step closer to him as they bow. "Elizabeth, Cora, Jenny, and Anabel."

Harry smiles at them continuously. "Pleasure to meet you ladies."

"I've noticed you have yet to dance, Mr. Styles," Mistress McCallister says, raising her thickly drawn eyebrows. "May I offer the hand of my daughter?"

Harry blinks. "Which one?"

She smiles. Then, in a harsh voice, without taking her eyes off him, she barks, "Cora."

Cora scrambles forward again. Harry looks at her properly now that he has a view of her that isn't just the top of her head. "Yes, mam."

"Mr. Styles, do ye mind?"

He looks at Aaliyah again who's still not turning her head to meet his eyes though he's screaming in his head for her to do so. She cannot hear him, and it's partially his fault for getting himself into this situation and not heading towards her earlier. He looks at the people eagerly watching his face, and then he smiles like Aaliyah told him to.

"I do not." He holds his arm out for Cora, who looks to be the oldest of all the sisters, and the most abashed by her mother's actions. She steps forward and takes his arm.He's immediately reminded of the last person to hold his arm like this, but he tries to shove that to the back of his head. Of course he will be dancing with other people. This is the purpose of a ball, is it not? People dance with other people. Married couples do no simply dance at all times either, so how could he think that the only person he'd be dancing with would be Aaliyah?

Cora is taller than Aaliyah, but this makes the situation worse because Harry has nowhere to look besides her face. And she's more embarrassed than he is, awkwardly laughing when she realizes she doesn't know where to put her hands for this slow dance. Harry helps her by taking her hands and putting them on his shoulders. He may not be Scottish, but he knows this dance.

Cora is pretty. She has short dark hair that curls around her chin, and a thin frame that's accentuated with her tight corset. He knows women like their dresses well fitted, but he wonders if she can even breathe in this.

"Ah, sorry about my ma," she says sheepishly. "She's always like that."

Harry stiffly says, "Nothing to apologize for."

She nods and stays silent for sometime as they fall into a clumsy waltz. She keeps apologizng under her breath whenever she makes a wrong move. "I dinna dance much."