Page 1 of It Began With A Kiss
CHAPTER1
The Year of Our Lord’s Grace, 1183
Summer, Dunborough Castle, Scotland
Achild’s laughter rang out in the early evening breeze giving testament to the boy’s delight as he made his way along a narrow path. Lady Iona Ferguson followed alongside her husband and laird, Ewan, a basket with the remains from their picnic swinging from the crook of her arm. Their young son Gregor ran ahead, picking up several small rocks and tossing them over the edge of the cliff they traipsed upon.
“Be careful, lad.” Iona shouted to be heard over the roaring surf below.
Her husband chuckled. “Ach, Iona, ye coddle the boy too much. He is doing naught but what all young boys his age is doing.”
“He is a mischievous imp and ye know it.”
“He is nine summers, lass. Of course, he is mischievous.”
She playfully punched her husband in the arm, but he only laughed again. ’Twas not as though she could hurt the brute, Ewan’s arm being heavily muscled along with the rest of him. “I have the feeling our son has inherited that trait from his father,” she murmured gazing up into the face of the tall Scot before her.
Iona had married the laird of Dunborough Castle, a much older man than herself. Not that she was old at a score and eight. They had said their marriage vows and, before she had time to feel married, she was pregnant. But no matter their difference in age, she had come to love her husband. How could she not? Ewan was a handsome man, with his dark hair peppered with hints of grey, and a devoted husband and father. She could not ask for much more than that.
His brown eyes twinkled with merriment when he leaned down to kiss her. “Aye, wife. Gregor does me proud, he does. I only wish we could have another so as tae ensure my name lives on long after I am gone.”
Iona linked her arm with Ewan’s. The weight of having one child to inherit Dunborough weighed heavily on her mind. She was unsure why she could not conceive again but she would leave it to God to decide if they were to be blessed with more children. “I do not think I could stand more than two of ye cut from the same cloth in our keep, my laird,” she teased, hugging his arm close. “Besides, I could always give ye a wee daughter. What would ye be thinking then when her suiters came tae call once she was of an age tae marry?”
“Bah! They would need tae prove their worth, of course,” he muttered, even whilst he unconsciously reached for the hilt of the sword that swung from his side.
The sound of falling rocks interrupted their teasing of one another. They looked up in shock to see their son dangling precariously close on the edge of the cliff.
“Gregor!” they yelled in unison and Ewan quickly lessened the distance between them. Grabbing Gregor by the scruff of his shirt, he hauled the boy back to land on even feet upon the treacherous footpath.
Iona sunk to the ground in relief, hiding her tears of concern in her hands. She hated the way to the castle, but this narrow spit of land between the mainland and sea was the only real access to their home. Sometimes Iona wished she still resided in her own humble cottage within the nearby village, but her status had changed drastically when she had married the laird of Dunborough Castle.
’Twas easy to understand why no one ever invaded the castle rising upon the rock formation at the edge of sea. No one in their right mind would attempt to climb the dangerous cliff, and the narrow path between the mainland and the gate of the castle was not meant for an invading army. The knights guarding the keep could see for miles around, so sneaking up on its inhabitants was not likely.
“Mama, I am fine. Ye need not fret,” Gregor said, coming to kneel at her side. His small hands took hers, but she could tell he was also trembling in fright.
She grabbed her son, giving him a shake before pulling him down into her lap. “Ye shall be the death of me, sweet Gregor,” she proclaimed and began smothering her son with kisses.
“Ma! I am too old for ye tae be treating me like a small bairn,” Gregor protested. The boy gave her a fast hug before he took himself from her arms, running ahead to disappear inside the open postern gate.
Ewan held out his hand and Iona was pulled from the ground and into his arms. “Ye canna continue tae show such affection tae the lad, wife. He will be ridiculed by all the other boys his age.”
“He almost fell off the cliff, Ewan. That is enough tae be concerned for his welfare.”
“Aye, concern, for ye are his mother, but beyond that ye must refrain so the boy will grow tae be a fine warrior. Now come, let us get inside our gates before they close for the eve. If ye remember, I invited my brother Broden to the keep. I have a matter of import tae discuss with him. I am sure he is anxiously waiting in my solar for our return.”
Iona brushed the dirt from her gown and looked ahead to the castle. There were times when she hated this place, despite the fact she now called the castle home. “I wish we could have stayed at my old lodgings. Times seemed so much simpler than now, especially when I must needs remind myself that I am lady of the keep.”
“We should give the place tae one of the neighbors who are in need of finer dwellings, but I promised ye that we could keep yer lodgings since it made ye happy.”
“Yemake me happy, Ewan,” she replied but her concern must have shown on her face since he halted their progress and lifted her chin to stare into her eyes.
“What is troubling ye, Iona,” he whispered, brushing her lips with his thumb.
“I shouldna say anything.”
“Voicing yer opinion never stopped ye before. Tell me what is on yer mind, wife.”
Iona gave a weary sigh. “I know Broden is yer brother but I like not how he stares at me when he knows ye are not watching.”
