“Nothing at all, except a lot of paintings and sketches—but I did find something interesting, a reason my aunt could have been connected to your family. See here.” She sat in the chair and then held up the sheet of paper. “It’s possible she worked as a nanny to your family, don’t you think?”

Luca leaned over and examined the sketches. “Yes, it is possible. I can see a resemblance to the early photographs of my father. Oh, and you know what? There was a painting of him in the old nursery in the palazzo where I grew up. I don’t know what has happened to it now. Maybe your aunt was commissioned to do the painting, and these were the sketches she used for it.”

Caroline nodded. “The only thing that’s confusing is that your grandmother had quite a reaction to my being British, and I got the feeling her animosity could have been about my great-aunt.”

Luca shook his head. “I think it’s more probable that Nonna had a bad experience, maybe with the British soldiers when the Allies occupied the city. Conquering troops are not always well behaved, you know.”

“That’s true,” Caroline agreed, still seeing the anger in the old woman’s eyes. She was suffering from dementia, that was clear. She might have got things mixed up, but . . . “I was wondering,” she began hesitantly, “if there was a family tragedy. Perhaps a child she was caring for died and she was held responsible?”

Luca frowned. “I don’t think so. I never heard any mention of a dead child. Besides, my father would have been born around that time, and he is still alive and well. And I’m pretty sure he wasn’t a twin.” He walked over to the window, then came to perch on the arm of her chair. Caroline was horribly aware of his presence. “If she was the nursemaid, that would be relatively simple to find out. We would have old employment records in the company headquarters.” Caroline wished she was not sitting down. It put her in a vulnerable position, although there was nothing hostile in his demeanour. “The only thing I can’t understand is the ninety-nine-year lease. Who gives one of the servants a lease to this prime piece of property? And if she was the artist and not the nanny, who rewards an artist with such a nice place as this?”

“Perhaps it wasn’t nice in wartime. Perhaps it was in a dangerous position and vulnerable to hostile shelling?” Caroline said.

“You may have a point there. They wanted somebody to live in it—anybody. But you would have granted that for a month at a time, wouldn’t you?”

“We may never find out.” Caroline stared back at the smiling baby.

“So how long do you plan to stay here?” Luca asked her suddenly, getting up again.