to see her like this. Elspeth was like the older sister she’d never had. The healer was the kindest, most caring soul Sorcha knew.
Elspeth could heal her broken heart. But Lord Benjamin was a man. A Lycan man at that. And Alec MacQuarrie’s oldest friend, or ex-oldest friend. Either way it didn’t matter.
She just didn’t want to see him. Not right now.
Before she could even semi-compose herself, Lord Benjamin Westfield stood behind her. “Good God, Sorch!” he breathed. “Are you hurt?”
Oh, she was hurt more than she ever had thought possible. But she didn’t want to tell him that. He sounded so concerned, which only made her humiliation that much worse. And she hated it when he handed her a handkerchief. She must look a sight.
“Stay with Rose and let me see ta Sorcha,” Elspeth suggested, and she began to tow Sorcha down the corridor.
Sorcha let her friend lead her into a softly lit private parlor and dutifully sat on a comfy chintz settee. Elspeth settled in beside her and grasped Sorcha’s hands. “Take a deep breath, love.”
Sorcha nodded and did as her friend asked. Her jagged breathing started to smooth out, and she began to feel like the most foolish idiot in all of Scotland.
“Can ye talk now?” Elspeth leaned close, looking into Sorcha’s eyes.
She thought she could talk, so she nodded. “I-I need ye ta heal me, El.”
The worry didn’t vanish from Elspeth’s face, and she just squeezed Sorcha’s hands tighter. “I doona feel any sickness in ye.”
Sorcha closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see her friend’s face. “My heart is broken, El. I need ye ta fix it. I just want ta be myself again. I want ta start over.”
Elspeth sighed heavily. “Oh, Sorch. That’s no’ somethin’ I can do. Matters of the heart are beyond my powers.”
Sorcha’s eyes flew back open. Elspeth had to help her.
She just had to. “But—”
“Who broke yer heart? Was it one of Eynsford’s scurrilous brothers? Which one was it? What did he do?”
Sorcha choked on a sob. How she wished she’d stuck to her original plan. “Nay.” She shook her head. “Lord Radbourne or one of the others would have been better. One of them could have at least fallen in love with me. Why did I lose sight of my goal?”
Because she’d stupidly, foolishly, shamefully fallen for a man who could never be hers. Not in the way she needed him to be.
“What happened?” Elspeth’s calm voice floated over Sorcha like a warm blanket.
“It doesna matter. I just need ta be healed. I want ta be whole again. There must be somethin’ ye can do. Please, El.”Elspeth smoothed a tear from Sorcha’s cheek. “If there was somethin’ I could do, Sorch, I would have done it for myself when Ben broke my heart.”
“Blasted men,” Sorcha grumbled. “Always breakin’ hearts. They ought ta be drawn and quartered, the lot of them.”
Elspeth’s eyes grew wide, and she shot out of her seat.
“Havers!” she cried, rushing toward a potted iris in the corner of the room. At least it used to be a potted iris. Now it was a cloud of black smoke. “I’ve never seen ye make a plant burn up like that before.” Elspeth fanned the smoldering plant, as though to air out the room. “Ye better tell me what this is about or there willna be a flower, shrub, or tree that is safe in yer presence.”
It was hardly the poor iris’ fault that men were such feckless creatures, but Sorcha was afraid to try and even help the poor plant for fear of making it worse. “What did ye do, El? How did ye get over the heartache Ben put ye through?”
The healing witch looked toward the doorway as though she expected her once-feckless husband to appear. “I had ta forgive him.”
“Forgive him?” The last person she wanted to think about forgiving right now was Alec MacQuarrie. He could rot with his friend Mr. Browning and the two English whores for all Sorcha cared.
“I had ta make peace with the situation,” Elspeth explained.
From the doorway, Lord Benjamin cleared his throat and Sorcha turned a scathing glare on the man she normally adored. He bounced little Rose in his arms, though concern still clouded his eyes. “Rose was worried about her godmother.”
“Ben,” Elspeth chided, “we are talkin’.”
He pointed to his left ear with a look of sarcasm on his face. “And I can’t help overhearing, so I might as well join you.” Then he glanced again at Sorcha.