Tom slipped out of the antique shop, his left hand caressing the Baroque-style emerald-encrusted silver jewel box he had nicked. According to the card that had been before it in the store, and now also was in his pocket, it had purportedly belonged to a lady named Catherine Riddle, Baroness Hangleton, in the seventeenth century, and so he had to own it. It ought to have been his anyway. Surely that was his family. For a brief moment he fantasized about being discovered by a noble family and adopted as their long-lost heir.