God's Loving Embrace

Part Thirty-Five

Asset Management

September 2026

'Behold, I shew you a mystery; we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.'

1 Corinthians 15:51

Lady Trevor sat with Mrs Craig in the large conservatory of her adopted parent's massive Meadvale home. Miss Howard and Miss Kenton, their guardians, had removed their muzzles to let them talk, whilst they took the girls for a walk outside. Lady Brogan was still dressed in black, mourning her late husband for a year, as the Archbishop had instructed, her devotion visible to everyone. It was a national scandal, an act of terrorism aimed at all democrats, and Brogan's painful grief, and her poor children's fatherless plight, damaged Ben Cartwright's opposition by association, as the killer was a fully paid up member of the Social Democratic Party and a women's rights campaigner. But Brogan had moved to Meadvale just as soon as her dear 'father' suggested it, well away from any political turmoil, because he was her legal guardian again, and Paul Craig had quickly rented out the large house in Eaton Square. Mr Craig wanted his grandchildren and wards under his protective wing and his poor 'daughter' close to her 'mother' of course. As Harry was the last of the Trevor's, other than his own children, Paul Craig had full control of his estate until his son's were of age. Brogan did not much care. It could not make her feel much worse, and she did not think that anything would make her feel better. She was almost thirty three years old in reality, but according to her loving 'parents' she was twenty five and proven fertile. Her marriage had not been perfect by any means, but she had still cared for Harry and he always understood her, even if he had a cruel propensity to torment her. She did not expect to be so damned lucky the next time. And she knew that there would be a next time. She was too big an asset to be allowed to wallow in her grief.

"Surely your new gowns should be here by now my dear?" Mrs Craig asked, breaking the polite silence. "Coming out of mourning will make us all feel better, I am sure?"

"Miss Howard has made all the arrangements, Mama." Brogan sighed, her mittened hands resting in her lap, of little use to her but neatly arranged for the sake of appearances, like her whole life. She thought of herself as a decoration, but without Harry there was no respite and no real point anymore. Every night was spent in her sleeping gown, muzzled, diapered and mittened, and she was totally at the mercy of Miss Howard, as Mr Craig had told the guardian to manage Brogan and the girls as she saw fit. Brogan had not even bothered to protest, and hardly reacted to Miss Howard anymore. She had no control, and no one to appeal to, as she was essentially a maiden again, and Mr Craig had never interfered in such things. Meadvale was quite like living in a vacuum because other than the occasional glimpse of the news she saw nothing of the world outside her gilded cage. She could only look forward to visitors from London and the snippets of gossip she heard at the dinner table. With Harry, she always heard what was going on, even if she was only ever an accidental tourist, a mute observer of events, with no voice. She spent as much time as she could with Eloise and Grace, but they were maidens now and needed her support less and less. Reformism had consumed her, and it seemed to be slowly consuming everyone else, like a cancer. She had already spent longer in Meadvale as a widow than she originally did as a maiden, before her marriage.

"Archbishop Michael has promised us a tour of the new cathedral complex later this week and there will be photographers there so you should wear something nice. It is invitation only of course, once the press have seen us arrive, and we will meet the new bishop of Meadvale we hope." Mrs Craig continued, but Brogan only smiled at the thought of wearing something nice. Meadvale had outgrown the old Cathedral, and Pastor Winstanley had funded a massive new building with a theology college, a palace for the new bishop and a convent, to cater for the towns needs. He would remain based at the old Cathedral, as head of the church, still in his large old house by the river and in charge of the First Congregation, although he spent a lot of time in London, of course. Brogan had not seen the construction site as she had been hidden in mourning but she was told it was magnificent, and that Bishop Osborne was the fast rising star of the clergy according to Paul Craig and renowned as one of the most intelligent men in the country. She knew Osborne, of course. She had visited his parishes in both Birmingham and London, hearing him preach, and she knew that Harry had liked him a lot, but as a confirmed bachelor she had not spent much time with him socially. Osborne was firmly Michael Winstanley's number two, hence Craig's comments about him, and he would be heading up the new Winstanley College of Theology as well as oversee the enlarged and renamed Winstanley Priory, replacing the old Meadvale Convent, a new branch of the Order designed to house the most pious nuns available, the most suitable to serve the famous First Congregation and promote the ideal of the modern renaissance.