Niabheara bounced the baby on her arm. "Your brother's talking to him now," she said. "Mira, I . . . I had to do a lot of talking with Sire Cormac before you came back again. I tried to explain to him how things are for your people, but I don't really understand it myself. And I'm not sure if he does either. But I told him mostly what I just said to you: that it was going to be your decision. And if you decide you want him to have a say, you'll have it."

She spied the folded napkins and started toward them, singing, "Someone needs a changing, a changing, a changing--" Baby did not react appreciatively to singing, so she stopped and focused on getting the old nappie off and the new on.

"He needs one," Miranda replied. "His last child died, I wouldn't take another one away from him when there's no reason. That would be a horrible thing to do." She frowned, watching Niabheara. "Is there something wrong with her?" she asked. "She cries a lot. All the time. She doesn't do any cute baby-things."

"Probably just a little colicky," Niabheara said as she tried to remember how to hold a baby still while tying knots in a napkin. "Brammie was the fussiest baby e'er--ear infections, sour stomach, couldn't eat anything without vomiting half of it up. He didn't get to be much fun until he was almost two years old and had already driven poor Meg half-mad."

Finally, napkin in place, she raised the baby to her shoulder and turned back to Miranda. "Your brother and I," she began hesitantly. "We . . . one of the things we discussed was that . . . the baby might stay here. With us. So that her father could still be with her. And so that, if you e'er felt differently one day . . . it wouldn't be as if you would ne'er see her again."

"But you don't want a baby," Miranda replied. "You just said you're not ready for one."

"She's still family," Niabheara said. "You're family. I just wanted to let you know that it was an option."

"But you don't actually want her," Miranda answered. "You're just willing to take her as a last resort." The girl frowned, and hugged herself. "And I still don't understand what happens to me."

"That, I could not tell you," she said sadly. "You're welcome here as long as you wish, you know that."

Miranda squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't go home," she said quietly. "With or without the baby. People already know."

"Maybe if you stayed away for a little while?" she offered. "And came back again after everyone has forgotten?"

"They don't forget things like that," Miranda answered, morose. "They might forget to trouble my parents over it, but the minute I come back, they'll just start talking again."