“May I Eat What You Didn’t Finish?” My Son Asks the Cold Duke—Unaware He’s His Father

Chapter 13

Spring came to Northwood Abbey in a rush of green. The gardens bloomed. The old orchard put out new leaves. And on a warm afternoon in May, beneath the same apple tree where Julian had first kissed her, Rowan agreed to marry him.

She did not say yes right away. She asked for time. She asked for space. She asked for the right to keep her own name and her own work, even after they were married.

Julian agreed to everything.

“Anything you want,” he said. “Anything you need. I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret this.”

“I already regret it,” she said, and his face fell. “I regret the seven years I spent being angry at the wrong person.”

He pulled her into his arms, and she let him. She let herself be held for the first time in seven years, and it felt like coming home.

Sam took the news of the engagement with characteristic practicality.

“So Julian will be my father officially?”

“Yes.”

“And we will live here?”

“Yes.”

“And I can keep my boots?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Sam nodded once, satisfied. “Then I approve.”

The wedding was small. No grand guests. No society page. Just the servants in the abbey chapel, and Mrs. Fletcher in a borrowed chair, and the spring light streaming through the stained glass.

Sam stood at the front, wearing his best coat and his now-famous boots, holding the ring on a cushion with the gravity of a royal chamberlain.

Rowan walked down the aisle in a dress of pale cream, her hair loose for the first time in seven years, the golden strands catching the light like a promise kept.

Julian watched her come, and his eyes were bright.

When the priest declared them wed, Sam cheered so loudly that the birds outside the chapel took flight.

That night, Rowan sat on the window seat in the library, looking out at the moonlit garden. Julian came to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders.

“Happy?” he asked.

She thought about it. The question deserved an honest answer.

“Terrified,” she said. “Hopeful. Grateful. And yes. Happy.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That is enough for now.”

“Sam asked if he could have a puppy.”

Julian laughed. “I have already arranged it.”

“Of course you have.”

She leaned back against him, and the silence that settled around them was not heavy with the past, but light with the future.

The End