"I know, but..." Marcello looked a bit aghast. "But...Meg. And I...we're only here for a day. And we're not competition."

"But Meg." She tapped Marcello's nose. "I told you, we tend to snarl." She looked more than a little relieved at the thought. "At least, I hope that's all it is. Here now, how's this: we go with your plan and ask her, and leave if she bids us leave, and if Father's still fumigating I'll be all Countess-like and install us at the house at Ebhot. There's no one there but Aubram's steward and his family and a handful of servants."

Marcello raised both eyebrows."Why don't we go there anyhow?" she asked. "There's...room enough for all four of us, and we won't be imposing or sleeping on the floor...we could ask Meg if she and Donal want to come with us for a night."

"You've not heard Meg's opinion on the manor house, have you? There's a reason she lives here and not there." But she nodded. "That works best, all around. There'd only be the matter of Dierdre, and she can glam up." Niabheara pulled herself up. "Little troubles, small solutions."

Marcello looked relieved, and got up after her, grimacing at the mud on her skirt. "I still can't lift anything, or reach high shelves," she said resignedly. "But I'm willing to forgo that for now."