Lucy felt her own eyes fill with tears. “William and Robert Catesby,” she said.

“My most treasured possession...” She could hear Catherine’s whisper in her ears and despite the tears, felt joy burst in her heart. Both boys, safe, together, found once again...

Hazel was speaking. “Well, I suppose it could be William and Robert Catesby,” she was saying. “They are the right period—perhaps even the work of Isaac Oliver, for they are very fine. If the box had somehow been overlooked when Chastleton was sold to the Joneses it might easily have been put away and lost in the attics along with all the other bits and pieces down the years...” She looked up, excitement in her voice. “Whatever the case, it’s a major find. We’ll call in our art specialists at once.” For a moment Lucy thought Hazel might hug her, but she managed to restrain herself. “My goodness,” she repeated, “what a find.”

Finn slipped his hand into Lucy’s. “All right?” he asked her and she nodded at him through her tears. Those tiny, perfectly detailed pictures of the two small boys Catherine had adored... She felt all of Catherine’s relief and a sense of peace.

“I feel we should call for champagne,” Hazel said, “but a cup of tea will have to do.” She was looking at Lucy rather oddly. “Are you all right? It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed,” Lucy agreed shakily.

Whilst Hazel went to put a kettle on and presumably call her boss with the news, Lucy and Finn stood quietly looking at the portraits.

“I don’t suppose we’ll ever know for sure how Catherine came to lose the key,” Finn said.

Lucy shook her head. “I think it wasn’t long before she died,” she said. “Otherwise there would have been time for her to have had a new lock made. And perhaps she didn’t realize at first that it was lost. But whatever happened, she must have treasured these pictures so much, and everything that they represented.”

“Her family was her world,” Finn said, and he slipped an arm about her and drew her close.

Hazel clattered through the door with a tea tray and they stepped apart a little self-consciously, but she only smiled. “I realize this will be a bit of an anticlimax after discovering the miniatures,” she said, “but there is something else I wanted to show you today.” She poured tea into little delicate china cups and passed the biscuit plate to Lucy.

“I hope you don’t mind—” Hazel was addressing Finn “—but after Lucy told me a bit about your project with the garden at Knightstone I started digging into the topic a bit myself.”

“We’re delighted, thank you,” Finn said, giving her his rare, special smile. Lucy thought Hazel looked slightly dazzled. She knew the feeling. “We’re such a small team,” Finn said, “and privately financed, so any extra help is very welcome.”

“Good, yes. Well...” Hazel smoothed the documents and seemed to pull herself together. “Well, I took a look at the Tresham family papers to see what connection there was between the Knightstone garden and Sir Thomas Tresham, and I found a rather interesting record. It’s in a private collection so you may not have come across it.” She selected a paper from the pile in front of her. “It was written a few days before Sir Thomas’s death and it’s entitled ‘an account of the treasures of the knights hospitaller of St. John in the last days.’ In it he writes of the mission that he and his grandfather undertook in 1544 to Knightstone, where he was initiated into the Order of the Knights Hospitaller and given the mantle of the prior as a sign of office. Poor boy, he was only fourteen—it must have weighed heavily on him, literally and metaphorically.”