The Advent

The Advent by Deidre Dalton is Book #1 in the Collective Obsessions Saga.

 

Forbidden love and dark secrets haunt two Irish families hacking out a new life in 19th-century America. When Molly Larkin's father discovers her affair with lighthouse keeper Colm Sullivan, his reaction pitches her into madness. Yet the legacy forges a bond of blood that will endure for generations...

From Chapter Eight

 

AFTER MAUREEN KELLY LEFT the mansion, Molly suffered the ministrations of Clea Barton-Brooks. Clea was assigned to Molly because she was an experienced midwife and had helped birth several babies born on the estate. She was also not likely to brook the same foolishness from Molly that Maureen had. Anne reluctantly agreed to let Clea take care of Molly. She resented that she should suffer the loss of Clea's care because her daughter behaved like a common trollop and now had to bear her bastard child in secrecy and in shame. Molly was confined to her bedroom on the third floor for the duration of her pregnancy, and not even allowed to take fresh air outside. John's explanation for his daughter's purported self-imposed exile, to those in a social position with the temerity to ask, was that she was preparing herself for a coming out event on her eighteenth birthday in late summer of 1881. People seemed to accept this explanation, and if they had doubts, they did not dare voice them.

In late January 1881, Molly sat by her bedroom window watching the red beacon from the lighthouse flash rhythmically through the cold fog. Colm would be up there now, she knew, doing his job; doing the job she had saved for him, had suffered for. She shifted uncomfortably. Her back ached. She was now five months along, though it was not easily discernible through the loose gowns and long shawls she wore. No one save Clea and her family saw her anyway.

Clea came in carrying a tray. “Are you ready for some tea, miss?”

“I suppose so.”

“Yes, miss.” Clea set the tray on a small table and poured the tea into a delicate cup.

“Why won't you tell me about Maureen's wedding?”

“Because Mr. Larkin instructed me not to speak of it to you.”

“Do you always do as you’re told?”

“Yes, Miss.” Clea handed Molly the tea. “It is my duty. Your mother told me you would do well to learn that.”

Molly grunted. Of course, her mother was behind Clea's carefully worded barbs, so polite and correct. “Will you tell me just a little bit about the wedding? A little bit won't hurt,” she pleaded.

“There’s no point in being curious, miss. It’s done. Your lighthouse keeper is married.”

“He's not my lighthouse keeper,” Molly snapped.

Clea raised her eyebrows and glanced pointedly at Molly's swollen belly as Anne entered without knocking. Molly did not bother to hide her surliness, which was not stemmed by Anne’s pretty cream chiffon gown and flushed cheeks.

“Stop baiting Clea, Mary Margaret. She is just doing as she’s told.”

“Go away, mother. I didn't ask for your company.”

Anne stood in front of her daughter, eyes cold. “If you had sought my company more often in recent months, perhaps you wouldn't be carrying a servant’s bastard.”

  “True, because, if I had spent my time with you, I'd be a drunk by now. Did you drink your lunch today, mother? Your color is unusually high.”

Anne blushed. Molly never considers her words, even in front of the servants. She turned to Clea. “You may leave us now. Return in half an hour.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“Why did you bother sending Clea away? She knows you're a drunk. You can't hide your weakness for the bottle from the servants.”

Anne closed her eyes briefly, ashamed for her daughter and her waspish tongue. Being with child seemed to make her more obstinate. “You’re not behaving as your father wants you to,” Anne finally said, overcoming her distaste for her daughter. “He wants you to learn some humility while you're confined. Instead, you seem to be getting worse. Did your time fornicating with the lighthouse keeper affect your brain, as well as your morals?”

Molly's eyes glittered dangerously with hate. While Molly's pregnancy had nothing to do with Anne, it fuelled her obsessive hatred and made Anne's quiet watchfulness unendurable. “Go to hell,” Molly hissed. “You're nothing but a mindless, addlepated, weak-willed bitch. Daddy must have been possessed by the fairies when he married you. You were never his choice, you know. Grandfather O'Quinn told me as much. You were a piss poor replacement for the real love of his life, your sister Maeve. How dare you stand there like a cow with a stick up her arse and judge me? Get out of my sight, you dirty old dried up excuse for a woman!”

Anne was aghast. She had never heard John in his blackest moods use such language.  “I believe you are going mad. If I tell your father that you're becoming unbalanced, he'll have you committed. Make no mistake about it.” But her doubts showed on her face.

Molly’s eyes turned to mere slits and her voice came icy. “Go ahead, tell him. Tattle. Do it! But remember, if I'm crazy, no one will be surprised when I slit your throat. If I have to be locked up, it might as well be for a good reason.”

“You don't mean that.”

“Try me,” Molly snarled. “Try me and find out the hard way, bitch.”

“Calm down, Molly, I didn't mean to....”

“Get out!” Molly shrieked, the sound of her voice echoing in the room. “Get your stinking face out of here and leave me in peace.”

Rooted with shock, Anne stared at her daughter.

Molly glared at her again. “Are you deaf, old woman? I don't ever want to see you in here again. You're upsetting me, and it's not good for the baby. I’ll tell Daddy that, too. Now get out!”

Anne backed away. Was Molly going mad? Whirling around, Anne ran from the room, closed the door behind her and leaned against it. What was the matter with her daughter? She had never been an easy child since, but now she seemed demented. Was she really losing her mind? Suddenly, as though Molly heard her thoughts, Anne heard her daughter’s laughter, an eerie, candescent sound that made the dim hallway feel more isolated. Then, accompanied by Molly’s rising shriek, something smashed against the door and shattered.

                Anne ran.