Kim blew derisively through pursed lips. “I sincerely doubt it,” she said. “The cork is probably disintegrated. No one has been taking care of them for half a century.”

Edward replaced the dusty bottle and opened a bureau drawer. Randomly he picked up a sheet of paper. It was a customs document from the nineteenth century. He tried another. It was a bill of lading from the eighteenth century.

“I get the impression there isn’t much order here,” he said.

“Unfortunately that’s the case,” Kim said. “In fact there is no order whatsoever to any of it. Every time a new house was built, which had been fairly frequent up until this monstrosity, all this paperwork was relocated and then returned. Over the centuries it got completely mixed up.”

In order to make her point, Kim opened a file cabinet and pulled out a document. It was another bill of lading. She handed it over to Edward and told him to look at the date.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said. “Sixteen hundred and eighty-nine. That was just three years before all the witchcraft nonsense.”

“It proves my point,” Kim said. “We just looked at three documents and covered several centuries.”

“I think this signature is Ronald’s,” Edward said. He showed it to Kim and she agreed.

“I just got an idea,” Kim said. “You’ve got me interested in this witchcraft phenomenon and particularly in my ancestor Elizabeth. Maybe I could learn something about her with the help of all these papers.”

“You mean like why she’s not buried in the family burial plot?” Edward asked.

“That and more,” Kim said. “I’m getting more and more curious about all the secrecy about her over the years. And even whether she truly was executed. As you pointed out, she’s not mentioned in the book you gave me. It’s pretty mysterious.”

Edward gazed around the cell they were in. “It wouldn’t be an easy task considering the amount of material,” he said. “And ultimately it might be a waste of time since most of this is business related.”

“It will be a challenge,” Kim said as she warmed to the idea. She looked back in the file drawer where she’d found the seventeenth-century bill of lading to see if there were any more contemporary material. “I think I might even enjoy it. It will be an exercise in self-discovery, or, as you said in relation to the old house, an opportunity to connect with my heritage.”

While Kim was rummaging in the file cabinet, Edward wandered out of the cell and deeper into the extensive wine cellar. He was still carrying the flashlight, and as he neared the back of the wine cellar he switched it on. Some of the bulbs in the sconces had blown out. Poking his head into the last cell, Edward shined the flashlight around. Its beam played across the usual complement of bureaus, trunks, and boxes until it stopped on an oil painting leaning backwards against the wall.

Remembering all the paintings he’d seen upstairs, Edward was curious as to why this one deserved such ill treatment. With some difficulty he managed to work his way over to the painting. He leaned it away from the wall and shined the light on its dusty surface. It appeared to be a painting of a young woman.

Lifting the painting from its ignominious location, Edward held it over his head and carried it out of the cell. Once in the hallway, he leaned it against the wall. It was indeed a young woman. The décolletage it displayed belied its age. It was done in a stiff, primitive style.

With the tip of his finger he wiped the dust from a small pewter plaque at the base of the painting and shined the light on it. Then he grabbed the painting and brought it to the cell where Kim was still occupied.

“Take a look at this,” Edward said. He propped it against a bureau and illuminated the plaque with the flashlight.

Kim turned and looked at the painting. Sensing Edward’s excitement, she followed the beam of the flashlight and read the name.

“Good heavens!” she exclaimed. “It’s Elizabeth!”

Enjoying the thrill of discovery, Kim and Edward carried the painting up the stairs and into the great room, where there was adequate light. They leaned it up against the wall and stepped away to look at it.

“What’s so damn striking about it,” Edward said, “is that it looks a lot like you, especially with those green eyes.”

“Maybe eye color is the same,” Kim said, “but Elizabeth was far more beautiful, and certainly more endowed than I.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Edward said. “Personally I think it is the other way around.”

Kim was transfixed by the visage of her infamous ancestor. “There are some similarities,” she said. “Our hair looks similar and even the shape of our faces.”

“You could be sisters,” Edward agreed. “It certainly is an attractive painting. Why the devil was it hidden away in the very back of the wine cellar? It’s far more pleasing than most of the paintings hanging in this house.”

“It’s weird,” Kim said. “My grandfather must have known about it, so it’s not as if it were an oversight. As eccentric as he was, it couldn’t have been that he was concerned with other people’s feelings, especially not my mother’s. He and my mother never got along.”

“The size looks pretty close to that shadow we noticed above the mantel in the old house,” Edward said. “Just for fun, why don’t we carry it down there and see.”

Edward lifted the painting, but before he could take a step, Kim reminded him about the containers they’d come to the castle to find. Edward thanked her and put the painting back down. Together they went into the kitchen. Kim found three plastic containers with lids in the butler’s pantry.

Retrieving the painting from the great room, they started for the old house. Kim insisted on carrying the art work. With its narrow black frame, it wasn’t heavy.

“I have a strange but good feeling about finding this painting,” Kim said as they walked. “It’s like finding a long-lost relative.”

“I have to admit it is quite a coincidence,” Edward said. “Especially since she’s the reason why we happen to be here.”

Suddenly Kim stopped. She was holding the painting in front of her, staring at Elizabeth’s face.

“What’s the matter?” Edward asked.

“While I’ve been thinking she and I look alike, I just remembered what supposedly happened to her,” Kim said. “Today it’s inconceivable to imagine someone being accused of witchcraft, tried, and then executed.”

In her mind’s eye Kim could see herself facing a noose hanging from a tree. She was about to die. She shuddered. Then she jumped when she felt the rope touch her.

“Are you all right?” Edward asked. He’d put his hand on her shoulder.

Kim shook her head and took a deep breath. “I just had an awful thought,” she admitted. “I just imagined what it would be like if I were sentenced to be hanged.”

“You carry the containers,” Edward said. “Let me carry the painting.”

They exchanged their loads and started walking again.

“It must be the heat,” Edward said to lighten the atmosphere. “Or maybe you’re getting hungry. Your imagination is working overtime.”

“Finding this painting has really affected me,” Kim admitted. “It’s as if Elizabeth were trying to speak to me over the centuries, perhaps to restore her reputation.”

Edward eyed Kim as they trudged through the tall grass. “Are you joking?” he asked.

“No,” Kim said. “You said it was quite a coincidence we found this painting. I think it was more than a coincidence. I mean, when you think about it, it is astonishing. It can’t be purely by chance. It has to mean something.”

“Is this a sudden rush of superstition or are you always like this?” Edward asked.

“I don’t know,” Kim said. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Do you believe in ESP or channeling?” Edward asked.

“I’ve never thought much about it,” Kim admitted. “Do you?”

Edward laughed. “You sound like a psychiatrist, turning the question back to me. Well, I don’t believe in the supernatural. I’m a scientist. I believe in what can be rationally proved and reproduced experimentally. I’m not a religious person. Nor am I superstitious, and you’ll probably think I’m being cynical if I say the two are related.”