Betrayal

Betrayal ~ Chapter 3

In the coming months Francis was to see that was never going to happen. His mother enjoyed making him miserable, reminding him every chance she got that his wife had left him. She also refused to take on the responsibilities Marie had shouldered in their rule – he hadn't honestly realized how much her job entailed – it was almost as demanding as his job. He was exhausted thoroughly every day; his only joy was spending time with his illegitimate son, John Phillipe. At least he was tired enough to sleep, he still woke several times in the night reaching for his wife, crying out for her when reality set back in – that she was gone forever.

The first months when Marie arrived back in Scotland were some of the busiest she had ever encountered. In taking over her duties as queen from her mother and still spending quality time with her children and finding time to sleep the months whipped by. She was glad for the bustle of activity to keep her from thinking and missing on what she had lost. Katherine was right though, her single most joy were her children, especially, Prince Francis, who was like his father in every way. They could have been born twins in different generations.

In the first year, Katherine visited three different times and Marie enjoyed her company immensely. She gleaned her for information on French Court hoping for anything to be said about her husband. She was pleased to hear he had taken no mistresses, it gave her hope for the future, that perhaps he might one day realize what he had given up.

As the babies grew they changed too. Princess Rose kept her lovely red hair and she had beautiful curls like her father but she was identical to her mother in attitude. Prince Francis was the spitting image of his father. His red hair had fallen out and his blonde locks had come in, inherited from his father. The young prince had retained his father's patience and caring and even at only 18 months old, he was fiercely protective of his sister. Both of her children had lost their green eyes, their gazes were sky blue now, the same color as their father's. Sometimes looking into their eyes she felt a deep sadness when she remembered what had been taken from her, what had been taken from her children. They deserved a father that loved them. But then she would smile, she had a piece of the man she had loved for so long in both of her children.

Katherine was due to visit again and would be arriving anytime; she wanted to take the children to the port to welcome her. The twins were almost three now and they were playing tag with each other when the ship arrived. She was smiling, watching them play while sitting on a blanket.

"Marie!" she greeted her as Marie stood to give Katherine a hug. She was startled after the hug to see her husband standing behind her mother-in-law.

"Francis! What are you doing here?" she asked.

"What no greeting for your husband?" he mocked. 'You don't write, you don't ask for France's help." He stated.

She looked back at her children to be sure they were still where they were supposed to be. Princess Rose liked to explore far too much. They were still running and playing.

"I told you when I left, I don't require your help," she told him stiffly. Marie watched as Katherine ran over to her grandchildren. "Grand Mere!" they laughed launching themselves into her arms.

Marie smiled; they loved her so much, if only their father would give them his love and attention.

'Welcome to Scotland Francis,' Marie whispered as she watched her children.

Francis frowned, looking at his mother with the children. The girl still had red hair; it was curly and long now. But the boy, he was stunned; he was the spitting image of himself when he was young.

"What trick is this?" he asked. "My mother told you I was coming didn't she?" He accused.

Marie turned back to him, "If I had known you were coming my children would have been left in the safety of my court," she promised him. "As it is they will have to endure your glares and accusations all the way back to the Castle she sighed.