Most Ardently

by Gabe Cole Novoa

“Quite certain,” Oliver responded firmly. “I assure you, there’s no need for concern.” “I’m glad to hear it,” Wickham said. “In that case, as your last dancing partner didn’t injure you too grievously, would you do me the honor of a dance? I promise I won’t step on your toes.” Wickham smiled in a way he probably thought charming. It might have worked, if the manipulation weren’t so obvious—and if Oliver hadn’t already had an unpleasant interaction with him. But what was he supposed to say? He couldn’t very well feign injury now that he’d assured Wickham twice that he was fine. Wickham had artfully backed him into a corner—and he knew it. Not trusting himself to keep the irritation out of his voice, Oliver took his hand wordlessly and stood. Which was how he again found himself in the unenviable position of dancing with a boy he had no interest in dancing with. “You are so beautiful,” Wickham said as he twirled with Oliver on the dance floor. “I think it’s quite clear you’ll make a very handsome wife for an exceedingly fortunate man one day. Perhaps even soon!” Oliver balked at that. “Soon? I should hope not. I certainly haven’t met anyone who I’d like to make my husband.” Wickham smiled slyly. “Perhaps you have and you just don’t realize it yet.” Maybe if Oliver hadn’t spent all his patience on Collins he would’ve been able to stop the distaste that showed clear on his face at Wickham’s implication. As it was, he looked at the other boy like a jar of milk left out in the s...