Stuck with you

Chapter Seven

Marcus pov

The feast had already begun, fresh food being served at every table. My table, though, was piled far higher than the rest — Leah had made sure Tank sat with me.

The couple were wrapped up in each other, playing footsie under the table, not even trying to hide it.

I scanned the room for Kitty and spotted her quickly — directing a group of maids as they served each table, calling out instructions.

She really did carry herself differently. Even her dress had held my attention all evening — there was no mistaking she'd come from money, the way she moved through a room.

She soon stopped in front of our table, setting down a dish.

"Well done, Katherine," Tank said, his eyes on the food.

I saw her freeze.

Her eyes locked onto him.

"You called me Katherine," she said.

Tank looked up. "Did I say something wrong?"

Leah answered for her. "She's Kate. Not Katherine."

"Ah — I thought it was short for it," Tank admitted.

But I caught the look on her face. She was clearly bothered — more than a simple name mix-up should've warranted.

She turned to leave, but Leah caught her hand.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To sit with the other maids."

"Come on, sit here," Leah said, already pulling out a chair.

Her eyes landed on me instead. I could read the expression easily enough.

I said nothing. She could stand if she wanted to.

She sat across from me, gently.

"This soup," Tank said, "you should try it," nodding toward me.

I hadn't tasted it yet. I picked some up from the dish Kitty had made.

The first taste was good — good enough that I couldn't quite hide my reaction.

"Kate made it," Leah announced.

I paused. Her eyes were already on me by the time I looked up.

"It's good," I said.

"You really are talented, miss," Tank added.

Better off as my personal chef than my personal maid, I thought, and the idea made me smile despite myself.

Leah noticed immediately. "Did you just smile, Marcus?" she said, grinning.

I didn't have an answer, so I just let the smile stay.

"Maybe he likes my food but doesn't know how to say it," Kitty said, eyes fixed on her plate as she ate.

Tank and Leah both burst out laughing.

She really was something else.

______

Kate's POV

The night was full. I could see the stars through the window as I lay on my bed.

My mind kept replaying everything that had happened that day.

That man, I thought. So impossible. He couldn't even give a real compliment without wrapping it in something else.

I didn't know if it was obvious to anyone else, but I wanted him to see I wasn't as naive as he thought.

Then again — maybe I was. There was so much I didn't know, simply because I'd always let others handle things for me. I'd been nonchalant about everything except cooking.

Katherine had really been someone else entirely. I didn't want to be her anymore. I knew that much, deep down.

My thoughts drifted back to Tank calling me by my real name.

A coincidence, I told myself, trying to believe it.

The past should stay in the past.

But I still needed to avenge my father's death. I knew he'd been diagnosed with cancer — but I never believed it would take him so quickly.

Something in me suspected my uncle might have had a hand in it, though I had no proof. Not yet.

Not after everything else he'd done to me.

I knew I had to stay grounded, pull myself together as soon as I could.

I stood from the bed and walked toward the mirror.

I slipped my nightshirt off gently, revealing my back.

The wound still hasn't healed, I thought. I hadn't expected it to take this long. I lifted my hand, testing it lightly with my fingers.

"Ah—" A small sound escaped me.

It still hurt, more than I wanted to admit.

"And how long were you planning on telling me this, little Kitty?"

The voice was unmistakable.

I yanked my shirt back up, clutching it against myself.

Colonel Marcus Steele stood in the doorway.

Oh no. I didn't know what to say.

_____

Marcus's POV

I couldn't find sleep that night. I lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling.

My thoughts kept circling back to Little Kitty.

Something about her felt off — I just couldn't place what.

I found myself thinking about how she'd looked in that dress. Leah had good instincts.

That morning, I'd told her to pull something from Jane's old wardrobe — just until we could get Kitty clothes of her own.

The thought of Jane settled uneasily in my chest, same as always.

I got up and walked the hallway instead.

Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

I found myself outside Kitty's door.

Heavy breathing came from inside.

Was she alright?

I opened the door gently.

She stood with her back to me — and I saw it immediately.

She was hurt.

The marks across her back were severe.

"Ah" she cried out, fingers brushing against the wound.

"And how long were you planning on telling me this, little Kitty?" My voice came out colder than I meant it to.

She yanked her shirt back up, clutching it against herself, then froze the moment she saw me standing there.

I stepped closer, my eyes going straight to the wound across her back, ignoring everything else.

"What happened?" I asked. She didn't answer, still struggling to pull her shirt back into place.

"It's not serious. I'm fine," she finally said.

I could tell it was a lie before I even looked at the wound again.

"Doesn't look fine to me," I told her, stepping back, giving her space to cover herself.

I knew she wasn't going to tell me the truth tonight — she was too stubborn for that. But I also knew I'd find out eventually.

She buttoned her shirt slowly. "Why would you even be here in the first place?" she asked.

I turned, meeting her eyes.

That was a fair question. Why was I here?